Archive of Our Own

Day Zero

Sid wakes up slowly, stretching out in the huge bed and luxuriating in the knowledge that he has absolutely nothing to do today. It’s summer, and he and Nate had managed to convince themselves to take a full day off. No workouts, no skating, no hockey - just relaxing, hanging out on the lake, maybe going for a swim, and cooking dinner together. Sid has been looking forward to today for weeks, which is why he’s confused when his outstretched arms don’t immediately make contact with his boyfriend.

At first, he thinks it’s possible that Nate had gotten up to use the bathroom, but when Sid manages a glance in that direction, the door is open and the lights are off. He frowns, hoping that Nate isn’t trying to cook the two of them breakfast. He doesn’t feel like interacting with the fire department today. Sid sighs, then gets out of bed, stretching out his back before standing up. He finds a pair of sweatpants on the ground and puts them on, grinning to himself as he notices the way they’re way too long for his legs; they must be Nate’s. He’s hoping to goad Nate back into bed, and wearing his clothes is a good starting point.

Sid makes his way downstairs. He’s surprised he doesn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen - Nate isn’t banging around pans in the way he manages to every single time, loudly arguing with Sid’s coffee maker as he does most mornings, or muttering curses as he tries to crack eggs. A quick look into the kitchen reveals that it’s empty. The weather is nice, though, so it’s possible Nate is already outside. Sid pokes his head out, and still no Nate. He’s about to go back upstairs to grab his phone off the charger when he finally spots his boyfriend, sitting in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, hood pulled up over his head which is buried in his arms, shaking on the floor of Sid’s living room in the dark.

“Nate?” Sid asks cautiously, walking over to him.

A wounded noise escapes Nate’s lips. Sid sits down next to him and tugs Nate into his arms; he folds himself up into Sid easily.

“What’s wrong?” Sid murmurs as he runs a hand along Nate’s back.

Nate makes another noise, but it’s not intelligible. Something bad must have happened - something really bad. Sid hasn’t seen Nate this upset ever, not even when he got kicked out of the playoffs. The way Nate is shaking in Sid’s arms also indicates some amount of fear, which is new. Nate isn’t scared of anything, ever. He’s stronger than Sid, always has been. He’s even willing to kill the creepy centipedes that keep finding their way into Sid’s house.

“Should I grab my phone so we can call someone? Your parents or your sister? What do you need? Your therapist?”

“No!” Nate shouts, startling Sid. “Don’t - not your phone.”

“Ok,” Sid says soothingly. “I won’t get my phone. Do you have yours? Did something happen?”

Nate is shaking so hard that it’s starting to freak Sid out. He really needs to get in touch with Nate’s therapist. This seems serious, like it might be something more than Sid can handle.

“Your phone,” Nate says shakily. “Your stupid fucking phone.” He’s crying now.

“What about my phone?” Sid asks cautiously.

Nate’s crying gives way into almost-hysterical laughter. Ok, this is going to be fine. He’s going to get Nate to come upstairs with him, and then he’s going to call Nate’s therapist, and Nate’s therapist will work his magic like always. It’s usually just panic attacks, but this seems like a whole mental breakdown situation. Still, Nate’s therapist has got to be good enough to deal with this, too.

“I fucking told you so many times,” he says, still laughing and crying. “How many times did I tell you to get a new phone? More than I can even fucking count. But -”

“I like the button,” Sid frowns. “The newer ones don’t have the button.”

“The newer ones have software updates,” Nate says.

“I’m doing just fine running iOS whatever on my iPhone 8,” Sid argues. They talk about this a lot. Nate usually complains about Sid’s phone because it’s old.

“Yeah, well, it turns out, iOS 11 stopped getting security updates back in 2018,” Nate says.

Sid rolls his eyes. “I have a password on my phone and I’m very careful not to lose it.” He’s not lying, either. He loves his phone, and it’s hard to find the ones with the button nowadays. If he loses it, he’ll have to get one of the ones without a button, and that seems like a true nightmare.

“Your phone is connected to the internet,” Nate sighs. His tone of voice is still slightly hysterical, but also as though he’s talking to a particularly stubborn, stupid five-year-old kid. “People can hack it easily because it’s connected to the internet and you haven’t updated the software since 2018.”

“Ok, but there’s nothing remotely useful on my phone. What, did someone on the Flyers think I had game plans they could steal?” Sid grins at the thought. His phone is mostly his text thread with his sister, dozens of phone calls with his mom, pictures of sunsets and the lake, and -

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“No,” Sid whispers, horrified. “But it’s - that’s a password-protected folder - nobody could have - and the password isn’t even 8787 like all of my others - it’s impossible, right?”

Nate looks stuck between laughing and crying and hitting Sid. “It’s definitely possible.”

“Ok,” Sid says, trying not to panic. “Ok, it’s gonna be fine. I can just go delete the folder - all of the pictures and videos - and then they’ll be gone, right? So i just have to go get my phone and -”

“Sid,” Nate says patiently. “Every single picture and video in that folder is on the internet. There’s no deleting them. There’s nothing we can do.”

“All of them?” Sid asks. His mind races through everything, hopping from bad scenarios to worse ones quicker than he can react.

“All of them,” Nate confirms before bursting into tears again. Sid hugs him tightly, arms circling him automatically. Nate sobs into Sid’s shoulder and Sid stares straight ahead, not able to take in anything other than drowning in horror. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Worse than losing the Cup Finals. Worse than the Flyers knocking them out of the playoffs. Worse than the time he thought Nate was cheating on him, but Nate wasn’t actually cheating on him and it was a whole stupid misunderstanding.

This is all his fault. He should have listened to Nate one of the hundreds of times Nate had suggested Sid upgrade his phone. And all of this because of the damn button. Now, because of him, his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms, distraught as he considers the fact that the entire world has seen everything in that folder.

“Would you excuse me for a minute?” Sid says calmly, extracting himself from Nate. Nate still has tears pouring down his face, but this is nearly as important as that. He walks to the garage, grabs the toolbox down from his shelf, and removes his favorite hammer. Then, he walks back into the house, goes upstairs to his bedroom, takes his phone off the charger and places it gently on the ground.

“Sid?” Nate asks from the doorway of their bedroom. Sid hadn’t realized Nate followed him up here.

Sid doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts the hammer and smashes his stupid fucking phone with its stupid fucking button into a thousand pieces. It’s not enough to hit it once, so he keeps going and going, screaming in anger, until he feels Nate’s arms around his shoulders, stopping him from raising the hammer again. Suddenly drained, he drops the hammer onto the ground with the broken remains of what used to be his phone, then turns around and collapses into Nate’s arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobs into Nate’s neck.

“It’s not your fault,” Nate says stubbornly. “Whatever twisted asshole did that to us - it’s not on you, ok?”

Sid sniffles into Nate’s neck but doesn’t respond.

“Go lay down,” Nate says to Sid. “Come on, get into bed. I’ll be with you in a second, I just want to clean this up so Maggie doesn’t get hurt.”

Shit. Sid had completely forgotten about Nate’s dog in the chaos of the morning. He hadn’t even considered that he’d created a dangerous situation, shards of glass covering their bedroom. He’s about to protest, apologize, offer to clean it up, but Nate beats him to the punch.

“It’s fine, Sid, just go lay down, I’ll clean up.”

Sid listens to Nate and curls up in bed, waiting as Nate vacuums up the mess. Nate slips into bed next to him, and they hold each other for a long time.

Five Years Ago

Sid definitely died and ended up in heaven - that’s the only explanation for what’s going on right now, how good he feels. His sudden death must have happened recently, and he’s a little sad about it because he’s sure his parents and sister are probably upset, but there’s no other logical reason for what is happening to him. He can’t really spare too much thought to feel bad for his various family members who are probably planning his funeral when Sid’s got Nate on his knees sucking Sid’s dick like it’s his sole reason for existing.

“Oh, fuck, Nate,” he groans. “Just like that, holy shit, you look insane.”

Nate does something with his tongue that makes Sid see stars, and then he’s slowly pulling off. Sid whines.

“Take a video,” Nate says, voice raspy.

It takes Sid a second to understand, and then his hands are scrambling over the couch, desperately looking for his phone. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Nate says. “Want you to get off watching me suck your dick when I’m not in Pittsburgh.”

“What if someone…?”

“I’ll password protect it for you,” Nate says, waving his hand like it’s nothing. “Come on, Sid, want you to film me choking on it.”

Sid quickly opens up the camera app and makes sure he’s on the video setting. He clicks the record button, grinning at Nate around the phone. He touches himself slowly, showing off for the camera; Nate’s eyes are focused on Sid’s hand and Sid’s dick. And then Sid is sliding into Nate’s mouth again, and he can’t help the groan that escapes his lips. Nate takes him in deep, coughing and gagging slightly before re-doubling his efforts to go even deeper. He’s making eye contact with the camera now, staring right into it.

“Jesus Christ, Nate,” Sid moans. “I’m so fucking close. Fuck, you’re so good at that, fucking made to take my dick.”

Nate moans into Sid’s dick, and it feels even better somehow. Sid notices Nate’s shoulder moving slightly, and he realizes Nate is getting off on this - he’s going to come because he loves sucking Sid’s dick while Sid films it. Holy fuck.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Sid asks sweetly. Nate nods, groaning around Sid’s dick, and Sid aims the camera to more easily see Nate’s hand wrapped around his own dick. Nate takes Sid deep again, moans one more time, and comes all over his hand. Sid gets the whole thing on camera, his own dick in Nate’s mouth while Nate makes a mess over his hands.

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Sid cries out. “Nate, gonna come, can I-”

Nate pulls off quickly, knowing exactly what Sid wants for the video. He jerks Sid off, aiming Sid’s dick at his face, and it’s too much.

“I’m coming, Nate, fuck, I’m coming, oh - oh, fuck,” Sid groans, flexing his hips up and spurting over Nate’s face, covering his cheeks, his lips. Nate kneels under him, looking angelic as he licks his lips and slowly blinks up at Sid. Sid makes sure to get a good shot of that for the camera before stopping the recording.

“Shit,” he says when he finally catches his breath again. Nate looks like he agrees. “Let me clean you up, sorry.”

Nate waves him off. “It’s fine, I got it,” he says, standing and making his way to the bathroom. Sid follows anyway; he gets a little clingy after they have sex, and even the thought of letting Nate out of his sight makes him wince.

Nate smiles when he realizes Sid is with him. “I love you,” Nate says, voice still raspy as he washes off his hands and gets started on getting the drying come off his face.

“I love you, too,” Sid says. He wraps his arms around Nate’s stomach, not interfering with his cleaning efforts. “That video is insane.”

“You gonna jerk off watching it?” Nate asks. He sounds a little self-conscious.

“Buddy, I’m almost getting hard again already just thinking about that,” Sid laughs. “I might have to quit hockey because I’m going to be spending every spare moment I have watching that video. My dick is going to chafe. I’m gonna end up, like, coming blood because I came too many times in an hour. I’m -”

Nate giggles. “Ok, ok, I get it,” he says, elbowing Sid slightly. “Gimme your phone, I gotta make sure it’s password protected so if you lose your phone, no one else is seeing that.”

“My phone has a password,” Sid argues, handing over the phone anyway.

Nate rolls his eyes. “8787 isn’t a real password.”

“If my phone wanted something more complicated, it would have forced me to make it longer.”

“I don’t know if this ancient brick could handle anything more complicated than four digits,” Nate says, grinning. “Come on, how old is this now, three years? Four?”

“It’s from 2017,” Sid admits. “But it’s not that weird. Anyway, didn’t they stop putting the button on it? I like my button.”

Nate shrugs. “There’s no way this thing is gonna last more than another year at the most. You get used to not having a button.”

“I think I’ll keep it for now,” Sid says. “Anyway, it feels wasteful buying a new one before this one breaks, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just an old man who hates changing technology, I get it,” Nate says as he taps away on Sid’s phone. “Here, it’s all set up for you - the password is the same as your email password, and you just click this folder here - yup, just like that, and type in the password and - oh, yep, that’s me.”

Sid can’t help himself. He hits play. His voice comes through the speaker, slightly tinny - “Jesus Christ, Nate. I’m so fucking close. Fuck, you’re so good at that, fucking made to take my dick.” He blushes slightly, but Nate is watching it, mouth open slightly, a little in awe at himself and at Sid’s dick in his mouth.

“Damn,” Nate says. “That is - I need to send that to myself. Wait, better idea, I’ll make it a shared folder. That way I can upload things to surprise you with when I’m in Denver.”

Sid frowns. “What are you planning to upload? Videos of you giving other guys head?”

Nate stares at Sid. “Uh, no? I’m not gonna cheat on you, idiot. I meant, like, videos of me jerking off or using the dildo you got me or -”

“Holy fuck,” Sid says, cutting him off. “How did I get so fucking lucky?” he asks before shoving Nate against the bathroom counter and kissing him.

“Oh, you’re into that?” Nate asks playfully as he breaks the kiss. “You wanna see what I get up to when I have to make do on my own?”

“Yes,” Sid hisses. “Do you have the dildo here?”

“I didn’t bring a dildo on a team plane to Pittsburgh,” Nate says, laughing. “Especially not when I knew I could have my boyfriend’s dick whenever I wanted.”

“You’ve gotta - I need to see that. Soon.” It’s not a request.

“I’ll make you tons of videos,” Nate promises. “You gotta do it too, though.”

“Of course,” Sid says, focusing on getting Nate’s shirt off. Why is his shirt even still on? “Nate, you have to fuck me.”

“Yeah,” Nate breathes out. “Yeah, ok.” He lets himself be pushed into Sid’s bedroom, gripping Sid’s phone tightly the whole time. “Sid, can I?” he asks, waving the phone around.

Holy shit. “Yes, please, you have to,” Sid whines. Nate grins and tackles Sid into the bed.

“Let me open you up first, then I’ll figure out the best way to film me fucking your brains out.”

Day Zero

Sid isn’t sure how long they lay in bed. They don’t sleep or talk or move, they just lay there staring at each other. One of them probably needs to be responsible and call someone - their agent, maybe, or their teams or their families. Even the thought of touching Nate’s phone makes Sid want to throw up. He thinks he would prefer to go the rest of his life without ever seeing a cell phone again.

He hears movement downstairs. Either one of their family members has found them, or someone broke into Sid’s house and Sid kind of hopes they brought a gun. Unfortunately, Sid soon hears the familiar sound of his sister’s voice.

“I know you two are somewhere in this house,” she shouts. Then, her voice is directly outside the bedroom - “I’m coming in, you better not be fucking.”

Nate bursts into tears, sobbing into Sid’s chest. Taylor opens the door and takes in the scene in front of her. “Oh, shit, sorry. Wasn’t really thinking when I said that.”

“Why are you here?” Sid asks, not too kindly. He wants to be left the fuck alone.

“Because I’m your sister,” she says. “Have you eaten today?”

Sid grimaces. Taylor sighs.

“It’s nearly 2 pm, you need food,” she says. Sid hadn’t realized it was that late. “And, uh, your agent might be here, too.”

“What the fuck, Taylor?”

She shrugs. “He just showed up. Said neither of you was answering your phones. I tried calling you both, you didn’t pick up for me, either. I gave it a couple hours and then drove here. Pat followed.”

“Sid’s phone is in the vacuum,” Nate says, still crying.

“I don’t know what that means,” Taylor says, voice soft. “Is that a metaphor?”

“No,” Nate says, voice trembling. “He smashed it up, so I vacuumed the shards. I didn’t want Maggie to eat the glass or step in it.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if I fed her today.”

“I fed her before coming upstairs,” Taylor says soothingly. “She seems fine.”

“Thank you,” Nate says. His whole body is shaking again.

“What are you thinking about?” Sid asks him quietly.

“The first video,” Nate says. Sid closes his eyes, thinking about the memory. It used to be one of his favorite moments, the time they discovered how much they loved filming themselves. How incredible Nate’s mouth had felt. The amount of love blossoming between them in an all-too-brief moment in Pittsburgh during the season. Now, it brings a bitter taste to Sid’s mouth; the whole world has access to that moment. It was supposed to be just for them, but now anyone with an internet connection can invite themselves into it.

Sid refuses to let some asshole steal that from them.

“You were so beautiful,” Sid murmurs to Nate, quietly enough that his sister can’t hear. “That was always my favorite video to watch. Sometimes, I’d watch it even when I didn’t wanna get off. Just so I could see your face when I missed you.”

“Soft,” Nate mumbles back, the ghost of a smile briefly crossing his face. “Your sister is right,” he says a little louder, so Taylor can hear. “We should eat.”

“I don’t really want to see Pat,” Sid groans, but rolls to the side of the bed. He gets up, then walks around to where Nate is standing. He looks a little shaky, so Sid wraps his arm around Nate’s waist. Nate looks grateful for the support.

They make their way downstairs, Taylor leading the way. She quickly busies herself in the kitchen, making lunch for everyone, so Sid steers Nate toward the living room. Pat is waiting for them on the couch, typing simultaneously with one hand on his phone and the other on his laptop.

“Hi,” he says, distracted. “Sit.”

They sit. Sid braces himself for a long lecture. He holds Nate’s hand tightly. It feels like he’s in the principal’s office all over again. He smiles to himself as he remembers the time Jack Johnson charged the mound when they were playing baseball at Shattuck. Jack hadn’t liked the way the other guy had pitched towards Sid’s head, and he started a whole brawl about it. They hadn’t been allowed to finish the season, but the worst part was getting screamed at by the principal for what felt like forever. Still, it had been worth it; Jack was a good friend - still is, assuming he’s ok with Sid’s relationship now that it’s gone viral - and it had made Sid feel really appreciated.

“Why weren’t either of you answering your phones?” Pat finally asks them, turning his full attention towards the two of them on the couch.

“Um,” Sid says. “My phone’s in the vacuum.”

Pat wrinkles his forehead. “Is that a euphemism?”

Nate relaxes into Sid. “No, he smashed the thing up and I had to vacuum the shards.”

“You know that doesn’t fix anything, right?” Pat asks. Nate snorts. Sid shoves him.

“Yeah, we know,” Sid says.

“Ok,” Pat sighs. “I’ve got a lot of questions.”

Sid and Nate look at each other, a little surprised. They were expecting a speech, not questions. Sid shrugs slightly.

“Go for it,” Sid finally says.

“The first one is a little selfish,” Pat says with a wry smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sid pauses for a moment. “Tell you what, exactly?”

“About your relationship,” Pat says quickly. “I do not now, or ever, want to hear anything about your sex life.”

“Oh,” Sid says. “Um.” The truth is, very few people knew about the two of them. Secrets are hard to keep, and a secret as big as Nate and Sid being together was bound to get out if too many people knew. Sid had told his parents, his sister, and Flower. Nate had told his parents, his sister, and Tyson Barrie. They decided together that their families were trustworthy, since they’d already been out to their families, and they both needed one friend to tell. Outside of the two of them and the eight people they’d told, no one in the entire universe knew. “We didn’t tell anyone aside from immediate family and one friend each,” Sid finally responds.

Pat looks down at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to the two of them. “I’m sorry you felt you had to do that,” he says gently. “I understand your decision. It just makes me incredibly sad for the two of you.”

“Where’s the speech?” Nate asks suddenly.

“The speech?” Pat asks.

“Yeah, the one where you yell at us about how much we fucked up and how we should have known better,” Nate explains. “Can we get that over with?”

“I’m not here to punish you, Nate, I’m here to clean up the mess from the fallout and do whatever I can to make this easier for you. Neither of you did anything wrong. That’s your official stance, too, by the way, so please don’t admit fault at any point publicly, no matter what you might think privately.”

“I should have been more careful with my phone,” Sid says quietly.

“No,” Pat says. “People shouldn’t have hacked your phone and posted private pictures and videos on the internet. You did nothing wrong.”

“We should have been smarter than to have had that stuff in the first place,” Nate argues. “That’s, like, hockey player 101. They tell all the rookies not to send dick pics.”

Pat stares at the two of them. “The two of you are in a relationship and have been for a long time, correct?”

“Seven years,” Sid confirms.

“And you both consented to the filming?”

“Yep,” Nate says.

Pat shrugs. “So then what did you do wrong? You weren’t sending unsolicited pictures to people without their consent. You both wanted it. If you’re both happy, I’m not here to judge.”

Sid finds his eyes are filled with tears. “Thank you,” he chokes out. “I, uh - I wasn’t expecting…,” he trails off. “Your support means a lot.”

“How bad is it?” Nate asks.

Pat looks at the two of them with a lot of pity in his eyes. “I’m not going to lie. It’s pretty bad.”

“Are there,” Nate says, then stops and clears his throat before starting again. “Are there any teams who want us? Or are our careers over?”

Sid is suddenly extremely grateful that the Avs had won the Cup already. That Nate had won the Cup. Even if their careers are over, Nate experienced it once, at least. It’s not enough, and it’s not fair. Nate is the best damn player in the world. Any team would be lucky to have him, and Sid wants to blast through the front door of every GM in the league and yell at them about it.

Pat blinks at them. “You’re both under contract. Did you want to request a trade?”

Nate and Sid look at each other. “The Avs still want me?” Nate asks, voice small.

“Yes, yeah, of course your teams want you, are you insane?” Pat asks. “Nate, you’re one of the best players in the world, you could probably become a serial killer and the Avs would just make sure Cale wasn’t next on your list.”

“So our careers…”

“That part is not the mess,” Pat confirms. “Your teams are on the same page as I am, which is to say that we all agree that neither of you did anything wrong.”

“What part is ‘pretty bad’ then?” Sid asks.

Pat sighs. “Bettman is trying to ban you from playing.”

“Can he do that?” Sid feels like he’s going to throw up.

“It’s a little unclear. Technically, no, not on the basis of your sexuality, which is why he’s trying to spin it as a morality issue.”

“What does that mean?” Nate asks. He’s shaking again. Sid can’t imagine Nate without hockey. It’s not fair that this whole situation might take it away from him.

“The standard player contract - the one you both signed - contains a morality clause. Specifically, Section 2(e) states that a player should,” Pat pulls out his phone to read it directly, “conduct himself on and off the rink according to the highest standards of honesty, morality, fair play and sportsmanship, and to refrain from conduct detrimental to the best interest of the Club, the League or professional hockey.”

“Ok,” Sid says, thinking. “So that might give grounds for our teams to terminate our contracts?”

“That’s where it gets messy. Well, messier. Neither of your teams wants to terminate your contracts. They’ve been extremely clear about that. They don’t think you broke the morality clause. Bettman, on the other hand, disagrees. He thinks you two definitely participated in ‘conduct detrimental to the best interest of the League,’ whatever the fuck that means. But he technically should not be given the power to terminate your contracts. Your teams are extra furious about this, by the way, because if he terminates your contracts and it turns out he shouldn’t have been able to, you would technically be free to sign with any team you’d want since you’d no longer be bound to your current teams.”

“What are our next steps?”

“We wait,” Pat says. “We’ve got whole teams of lawyers handling this. Your teams are on your side. There’s not much we can do.”

Sid frowns. “Why are you in Halifax if we just have to wait?”

“Part of my job is relaying information to my clients, and I couldn’t get in touch with you any other way. I wasn’t far - I was in Toronto for the weekend - and you two are my highest profile clients.”

They sit in silence for a few moments until Taylor walks into the room. “Lunch is ready,” she says. Her voice is trembling slightly.

Nate, Sid, and Pat stand and walk over to the kitchen. “Thanks, Taylor,” Sid says quietly, wrapping her in a hug.

Four Years Ago

Sid normally likes to take his time after games, especially after wins. He’s in no rush to get out of the locker room and back to his empty house. He carefully removes all of his equipment, makes sure it’s in good condition (or good enough, in the case of his ancient pads and jock strap), and takes a long shower. He’ll hang out for a bit after getting dressed, chatting with the staff who are still around.

That’s a normal day.

Today is not a normal day.

It hasn’t been a normal day since Sid checked his phone before the game and saw a notification that Nate had uploaded something to their shared folder. He’s desperate to know what it is. He’d been half-distracted all game, focused mostly on getting home to see what it is. A picture? A video? Nate is always generous with his uploads, and Sid loves them. He tries to send enough stuff to keep Nate happy, and he thinks he’s been pretty good about it - Nate has certainly seemed grateful. But he’s got nothing on Nate and his schemes.

Finally, finally, the fucking game ends and Sid is out of the rink faster than he’s ever been. He gets some weird looks from his teammates, but he couldn’t care less right now, eager to get home and look at his phone. He gets home, strips quickly, and climbs into bed before opening up the folder.

The very first file is new, and it’s a long video. Ten minutes. God, his boyfriend is the best. Sid settles into the pillows, already half-hard from the anticipation.

When Sid hits play, he lets out a strangled noise.

“Hi, Sid,” Nate’s voice filters through the phone speakers. He looks shy in a way he hasn’t in a long time; the first few videos featured an awkward and uncomfortable Nate, but he had quickly shaken that off, confidence building as Sid reacted extremely positively to each new upload. Now, though, the shyness has returned in full force. His cheeks are pink, and his bottom lip is a little shiny and red from where he’d clearly been biting it in anxious anticipation. Video-Nate takes a deep breath and releases it before continuing. “I, uh, I’m not sure if you’re into this,” he says, gesturing at himself. “If not, you should probably just stop watching? And, like, I’ll make you a different video, I swear.” He speeds up toward the end of his little speech, and Sid can’t help but smile as he thinks about how dumb his boyfriend is right now. There is no chance in hell that Sid wouldn’t be very, very, very into this. Another deep breath from Nate, and then he does a slow spin in front of the camera, showing off his outfit.

It’s all black lace with some barely-there gold accents. The top can hardly be called a bra, tiny bits of lace outlining Nate’s pecs and see-through enough for Sid to see his nipples. The straps have gold woven in, and while the black contrasts beautifully with Nate’s pale skin, the gold brings out the coloring of Nate’s hair. The bottoms are the same lacy black, skimpy little panties that leave nothing to the imagination. Nate is already so hard; Sid thinks he can see where Nate is already leaking through the lace if he squints hard enough.

The view of Nate as he turns is magical, his ass barely contained by the small amount of fabric. Sid has never felt angrier about the miles separating them. Sid groans as he gets a hand on himself, and it mirrors Nate’s slight gasp as he gently drags a finger over his nipples through the fabric.

“It’s, uh, a little scratchy?” Nate says, trying to narrate for Sid. “But it feels so fucking good, Sid.” He keeps playing with his nipples, letting out little choked-off whines and moans every so often. Sid is closer to the edge than he’d like to be; the video still has more than eight minutes left, and Sid thinks he’ll be lucky if he lasts another minute.

Nate’s hands come up to cover his pecs completely and squeeze hard, and his head falls back with a broken moan. “God, I wish you were here,” Nate says to the camera. “I love when you play with -” he cuts himself off, face turning red. He takes a breath and steels himself. “I love when you play with my tits,” he says, squeezing again.

“Oh, fuck,” Sid groans out loud. His hand speeds up, and he wouldn’t be able to stop for anything right now. “Nate,” he moans, even though Nate can’t hear him. “I’m so close, Nate, you’re gonna make me come.”

Nate’s voice is a little breathy as he keeps squeezing his pecs. “Do you like the black and gold? I hope I chose a good color for you. I thought the black would look extra nice once I come, you know?”

Sid cries out as he spurts ropes of come over his abs and hand, back arches and hips high in the air. His orgasm feels like it lasts forever, and he quickly exits out of the video when he comes down from his high. He only gets to watch each one for the first time once, and he wants to save the bits he hasn’t seen yet for next time.

He wipes off his hand and stomach with his t-shirt and throws it on the floor; that can be tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted, but he needs to hear Nate’s voice right now, so he calls him, putting the phone on speaker.

“Hi?” Nate says, voice anxious.

“Hi,” Sid says, voice a little slurred from drowsiness and the generally bone-deep satisfaction he feels right now.

“It’s ok if you didn’t like it,” Nate says quickly. “I won’t be offended, I swear.”

“I only watched the first two or three minutes,” Sid admits.

“Oh,” Nate says, sounding defeated. “I, yeah, that makes sense. I’m sorry, I -”

“Nate,” Sid cuts him off. “I came so fast. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

Nate is silent for a few seconds. “Really?”

“Where did you get that from? Can I send you more? Will you make more videos?” Sid asks desperately. “Can I - next time I see you, god, Nate, please.” He’s not even making sense anymore, but he hopes Nate understands him anyway.

“When did you come?” Nate asks. “Like, what part of the video?”

“When you asked if I liked the colors and said you thought your come would look nice on the black,” Sid says. “I bet it does.”

“You’ll just have to watch the rest and find out,” Nate says, and he sounds so much more relaxed now.

“Did you get any others? Does the place you got it from have more?”

Nate laughs. “I only got one set. The website has a lot of color options, and other styles.”

“Send me the link,” Sid commands.

“You really wanna buy me some pretty panties to wear for you?”

“Nate, I’m going to order one of everything on the site for you.”

“I miss you,” Nate says softly. “I wish I could fall asleep next to you tonight.”

“Me, too,” Sid says in agreement. “I’m dead tired from the game, but can we stay on the phone until I fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” Nate says. “If you had a newer phone, we could even facetime,” he teases.

“Shut up, my phone can facetime,” Sid says, tapping the button. Nate’s face fills his screen and Sid can’t stop staring.

They chat for a while, mostly about hockey. Sid just finished a book, so he tells Nate about it, and Nate tells him about a short hike he went on. All too soon, Sid’s eyelids feel too heavy to keep open, and his blinks get longer and longer. He holds on for as long as he can, listening to the soothing rumble of Nate’s voice without bothering to try to parse the words.

Day One

Sid wakes up, stretching out slowly. He rolls over to try to cuddle up to Nate for extra warmth, but the other side of the bed is cool; not only is Nate not here, but he got up a long time ago. Sid gets out of bed and pads downstairs in search of his boyfriend, reminded strongly of the day prior when he did the same thing.

He finds Nate sitting on the couch today. The TV is on, which is probably a bad sign. Nate has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and tears running down his face.

“Hey, bud,” Sid says, collapsing next to Nate on the couch and putting an arm around him.

Nate sniffles in response, still staring at the TV. Sid takes an unwilling look at it and immediately starts searching for the remote to turn it off. He can’t find it anywhere, and he realizes Nate must have it.

“Nate, turn this off,” Sid says firmly. Nate shakes his head, and Sid can see the remote is grasped firmly in the hand further from Sid. “Neither of us should be watching this shit.”

The TV is on TSN, and there’s an entire panel of people talking about Nate and Sid. Private pictures and short video clips keep flashing across the screen. Sid feels sick.

“You really think they should still be allowed to play?” one of the panelists asks another incredulously. “How do you think Nate MacKinnon is going to be respected by a single other guy in the league with videos of him in panties and bras circulating the internet?”

Nate whimpers beside Sid. Sid tries to claw the remote out of Nate’s hand, but Nate is too strong for him.

“Why are you torturing yourself like this?” Sid asks.

“He’s a top three forward in the league, they can’t afford to force him out,” the other panelist argues. “Who cares what he does in his private life?”

“It’s not exactly private anymore,” the first guy points out. TSN flashes some images of Nate in lingerie on the screen as if to prove the point.

“I just don’t see how it affects his ability to play.”

“He’s the laughingstock of the entire league right now. He won’t even make it five games before someone concusses him, or worse.”

“Nate, turn this OFF,” Sid half-shouts. Nate winces away from Sid but doesn’t touch any of the buttons on the remote.

“Just look at this,” the same panelist argues as TSN flashes a picture of Nate in black lace, cheeks flushed red, lips shiny as though Nate had been biting them. There are small gold accents woven into the lace.

That exact set is sitting wrapped in a drawer in Sid’s closet. He had been planning to give it to Nate on their anniversary this summer; they’d both found plenty of other fun things for Nate to wear in the intervening years, but that first outfit is still Sid’s favorite.

He’d been so looking forward to that night. When he ordered the set, he could picture the exact way Nate would have grinned at him, the shy smile that Nate would have thrown his way before pushing Sid out of whatever room they were in so Nate could change into it away from Sid’s prying eyes. He knows exactly how the black would have looked set against Nate’s skin, and he could have guessed how long he would have spent admiring the strength of Nate’s muscles straining against the flimsy lace before needing to dive in to lick and suck every available piece of skin he could get his mouth on.

Another piece of their relationship that’s been stolen from them.

Sid wonders how many pieces will be left when the dust finally settles.

****************

A long time later, Nate finally shuts off the TV. It’s almost worse when the room falls into darkened silence. Nate keeps staring straight ahead, as if he can still see the images of himself on the now-blank screen.

They’re still waiting, as per Pat, but Sid can’t spend another full day in their house doing nothing but wallowing in misery. “Come on,” Sid says, pulling at Nate’s arm. Nate gives him a look. “Let’s go for a run or go out to breakfast or book some ice time,” Sid suggests.

“People are going to stare,” Nate says, voice rough. His eyes are so swollen, and Sid’s heart feels heavy with guilt.

“Let them,” Sid says. He suddenly doesn’t care. “I have the hottest boyfriend in the universe. I’ve known it for as long as we’ve been together. I don’t give a fuck if everyone else knows it, too.”

“I’m not hot,” Nate argues. “I’m all… girly. You heard what they were saying on TSN.”

Sid gently slides his fingertips under Nate’s sweatshirt, gliding against the bare skin of his abs. He raises an eyebrow to ask permission, and Nate gives a reluctant nod. Sid takes Nate’s sweatshirt off, then his shirt. He can’t help but stare a little. “Look at you,” he says to Nate reverently. He runs his fingertips over Nate’s abs, then his shoulders and arms. “You’re gorgeous.” Nate sits stiffly on the couch, not meeting Sid’s gaze.

“Sid, I don’t want-”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” Sid says quickly. “I’m just trying to get you to see yourself how I see you.”

Nate brushes Sid’s hands off of him, then pulls his shirt back over his head. “I’m gonna lay down,” he says, standing up.

“I’ll come with you,” Sid says, moving to follow, but Nate shakes his head.

“I want to be alone right now,” he says, voice apologetic.

Sid nods, trying to be understanding, though the only thing he wants right now is to seek comfort in being near Nate. Instead, he sits on the deck outside and stares out at the lake.

Three Years Ago

“Sid,” Nate sighs into his boyfriend’s neck. They’re standing in the foyer of Sid’s house in Pittsburgh; Nate had just gotten in after a long flight, and he seems unwilling to stop clinging to Sid. Sid doesn’t see any issues with this.

“Missed you,” Sid murmurs, holding Nate tightly to his chest. Nate’s fingers brush underneath Sid’s shirt, searching for bare skin.

“You still have the tripod set up?” Nate asks.

“Mmhmmmm,” Sid confirms. He’d used it a couple days ago to make Nate a video. Nate had sent him a dildo, so Sid filmed himself using it in every position imaginable while begging for Nate to fuck him instead of making him use plastic.

“Good,” Nate says. “Go upstairs, strip, and get into bed. I’ll be up in five minutes. Don’t touch yourself.”

Sid frowns. He doesn’t want to let go of Nate.

“Sid,” Nate says warningly.

He heeds the command, slowly trudging up the stairs as he feels Nate’s eyes on him. He’s already hard, and it’s not easy to lay there for so long without getting a hand on himself. Several times, he catches himself halfway to breaking Nate’s rule before stopping himself. He does it again, groaning with frustration, before realizing Nate is watching; he’s not sure when Nate got to the bedroom.

“You’re so good for me,” Nate praises him. He fiddles with the tripod while Sid watches, slipping his phone in and tapping a few buttons. “My phone has a much better camera than yours,” Nate says. “We should try to remember to use mine from now on.”

He climbs into bed and straddles Sid, kissing him deeply. They make out for a long time, Sid losing himself in the feel of Nate’s tongue slipping over his own. He could do this all day, especially after going so many long months without seeing each other.

Too soon, Nate is pulling back. He grabs something out of his pockets before shucking his clothes, leaving him as bare as Sid. Nate slips the blindfold he had grabbed over Sid’s face and down until it’s covering Sid’s eyes, blocking his vision.

“Good?” Nate asks for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Sid says, more desperate than he should be.

“Put your hands on your headboard and don’t let go,” Nate instructs. “If you stop holding it, you won’t like your punishment.”

Sid complies.

“Don’t come until I say you can,” Nate says. Sid loves when he gets bossy like this.

Suddenly, Nate is licking up the length of Sid’s dick. Sid cries out in pleasure, hips moving up to chase the feeling. Nate keeps up the tempo, and Sid can feel Nate’s throat around the tip of his dick. It’s incredible, as Nate’s mouth always is, and Sid knows he’s getting close. Nate must be able to tell, but he just speeds up, pulling Sid closer and closer to the edge. Nate’s tongue drags a complicated motion on the underside of his dick with each outward stroke, and it’s driving Sid insane.

He’s just about there, ready to warn Nate that he’s going to come, when Nate suddenly pulls away.

“No!” Sid shouts, hips pushing upwards to find friction but only finding the empty air. He can’t see anything because of the blindfold, and he’s desperate to come. Nate traces the underside of Sid’s dick with a single finger, a touch too light to get him over the edge but enough to drive him insane.

“Nate, please, I need to come,” Sid begs.

“Not yet,” Nate says, light and teasing. “Will you tell me how many NHL awards you’ve won so far?”

Sid can’t quite understand the question with all of his attention focused on his dick. “What?”

“Focus, Sid. NHL awards. Name them.”

“Um,” Sid says hesitantly. “Hart, twice,” he starts.

“Good job,” Nate says. “What other ones?”

“Ted Lindsay, three times. Rocket, twice. Art Ross, twice. Conn Smythe, twice, if you count that.” Sid thinks for a moment. “That’s it.”

“Nuh-uh, you’re forgetting one,” Nate chastises him. He applies more pressure with his finger, teasing Sid closer to the edge.

“Umm,” Sid says, trying to think. Maybe if he gets the answer right, Nate will let him come. “No Calder. No Norris or Vezina or Selke. I named all of them.”

“Mark Messier Leadership Award,” Nate says, gently flicking the head of Sid’s dick. It makes him gasp and writhe on the bed, hands never dropping the cool metal of the headboard. “That’s twelve times winning six different trophies. I think I’ll be nice to you tonight, you’ve been good for me so far,” Nate says, building Sid up. “I’m only going to edge you six times total, one for each different trophy you’ve won.”

“Five more,” Sid gasps. “And then you’ll let me come?”

“We’ll see,” Nate says before gripping Sid’s dick and actually jerking him off. It feels so good, Sid could cry. “The first one was for the Leadership Award. This one is for the Ted Lindsay.” He keeps stroking Sid, over and over, speeding up slightly. Sid feels his balls tighten, drawing up toward his chest, and despite the fact that he knows Nate won’t let him come, his whole body prepares for the inevitability of it, everything hurtling towards the finish line. Right before he’s about to cross it, to lose his mind in pleasure, Nate stops touching him.

Sid cries out, already out of his mind in desperation. “So close, Nate, so close, keep going, please, need to come.”

“Not yet,” Nate reminds him. “We’ve still got four trophies to work through, Sid, I’m taking my time with you tonight.” He gives Sid a gentle kiss on the forehead, and then Sid hears Nate rustling around. Suddenly, there’s a lubed-up finger stroking over his hole. Sid groans, allowing the pressure to build up, pushing against Nate to try to get the finger inside. Finally, after what feels like ages, Nate pushes inside, finger curling up until Sid groans loudly. Nate runs his finger along Sid’s prostate, circling around it just the way Sid likes until Sid feels like he’s melted into a puddle on the bed. He knows he must be leaking like crazy, and Nate’s finger feels so good inside of him. Warm, wet heat suddenly envelops his dick as Nate sinks his mouth back down over him, and Sid can’t help but buck up into it.

Nate keeps the motion maddeningly slow, too slow for Sid to build up to what he wants. Nate swirls his tongue around the head of Sid’s dick, finger still rubbing slow circles inside him. The buildup is so painstakingly slow this time that Sid doesn’t realize how close he is to coming until Nate is suddenly gone. His dick throbs painfully, desperate for release, and his balls ache.

“Please, Nate,” Sid sobs, and he doesn’t know when he started crying, but he needs to come. He keeps his hands on the headboard, unwilling to be disobedient, but he’s so hard it hurts. All he needs is one or two strokes and he’d finally get relief. It’s so tempting, he could do it so fast that Nate wouldn’t be able to stop him, but Nate told him to be good and his whole body yearns for more praise.

“So good for me,” Nate says, almost as if he can read Sid’s mind and see the struggle he’s trying to work through. “That was for the Hart.”

“Three more,” Sid gasps.

“Mhmmm, good job. Rocket is next, but I’ll give you some time to cool down before touching you again.”

Sid wriggles on the bed, unhappy about Nate’s lack of touch. Nate notices what Sid is doing and lays down next to him, contouring his body alongside Sid’s and dragging him into a kiss. He’s cautious about not letting Sid’s dick touch any part of his body, but he lets his hands wander everywhere else on Sid’s body.

“M’good,” Sid mumbles out after a while. He can go again; he’s halfway done with Nate’s plans for the evening. The faster Nate brings him to the edge again, the sooner he’ll get to come.

Nate slips a finger back inside of Sid, and then a second quickly joins it. He rubs slow circles around Sid’s prostate again before moving his fingers in and out, making sure to rub against that spot inside of Sid with every stroke.

“Feels good,” Sid slurs out.

“You deserve to feel good,” Nate says. “You’re incredible.”

Sid feels his cheeks turn red. The tears have stopped, and his eyelashes feel wet beneath the blindfold. It’s not quite annoying enough to try to fix.

“Nate,” Sid groans. “Don’t stop, please.”

“Wow,” Nate says breathlessly. “Are you getting off just on me fingering you? You don’t even need me touching your dick, huh? You’re such a good slut for me, Sid,.”

Sid’s breath catches, and the tears start flowing again. He keeps mostly quiet, whining gently as he tries to push back into Nate’s fingers for more stimulation. He can’t usually come from just being fingered, which Nate knows well, but he’s been so close for so long now that it might be possible. He feels a familiar tingling in his balls, and he suddenly realizes that Nate doesn’t know just how close he is.

He has a split second to decide. “Fuck, Nate - stop!”

Nate quickly removes his fingers. “Is everything ok?” he asks, voice full of concern.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Sid pants. “I - holy fuck, Nate,” he groans, arching his back. His cock throbs again and again, and he’s worried he warned Nate off too late, that he’s going to come anyway, but he manages to stave off his impending orgasm with some focused breathing. “Almost came.”

“From my fingers?” Nate asks in an awed tone. “Thank you for telling me, Sid, that was so good. You’re perfect. I can’t wait for you to see yourself after this, you’re putting on such a good show for me.”

“Yeah?” Sid asks, voice cracking around a broken sob. He had been right there, and it’s his own fault he didn’t allow himself to fall over the edge. He thought listening to Nate was the right choice, but as his cock throbs again, he thinks he might have messed up. He can’t do this two more times.

“Art Ross, now, Sid. Do you remember the first time you won it?”

“Um,” Sid says, brain feeling like a pile of goo. Art Ross. Points. First time. “2007.”

“Mhmmm, good job. How many points did you have?”

Sid definitely can’t count that high right now. Not when Nate’s fingers are tracing patterns over Sid’s thighs and Sid’s dick won’t stop pushing upwards into the air, desperately trying to get the slight friction that would send him over the edge. Shit, Nate asked him a question. Points. 2007. “120,” he gasps.

“Perfect,” Nate says. He stays away from Sid’s dick, instead moving his fingers higher over Sid’s chest, tracing over a nipple. Nate’s mouth finds Sid’s other nipple, and Sid arches up into the touch, trying to get Nate to do more. His fingers slip into Nate’s hair, pushing his head down slightly, and Nate immediately stops. Sid whines at the loss of touch.

“What did I say about your hands, Sid?” Nate asks sternly.

His hand shoots back up to the headboard, but it’s too late. “I’m sorry,” Sid sobs, tears flowing fast and thick now. He’s more turned on than he’s ever been in his life, and he needs to come more than anything else, but Nate is so mean right now. “I didn’t mean to, Nate, I’m sorry, I can be good, I swear, please don’t punish me.”

“Ssshhhh, it’s ok, Sid. You’re so good, following all of my directions. I had planned to add an extra to how many times I’d edge you every time you were bad, but I’m not going to do that for this one. Do you know why?”

“No,” Sid cries. He can’t stop the tears, and he’s sniffling as they fall into the blindfold and down his cheeks.

“You were so good for me last time and stopped me before you came. I’m so proud of you for that. I’ll let you have a warning this time, because you’ve been so good, but I won’t give you another chance.”

“Thank you,” Sid chokes out through the tears. “Thank you, you’re so nice, thank you, Nate, please, touch me, touch me, I need you, please-”

His words are cut off by Nate’s dick slipping into his mouth, and Sid eagerly sucks it down. “God, Sid,” Nate groans. He thrusts his hips a little, choking Sid slightly but never more than Sid can handle. Nate pulls himself out of Sid’s mouth, and Sid makes an unhappy noise about it. Before he can actually complain, he feels Nate shifting around and then Nate’s dick is back on Sid’s lips, pushing through until he’s deep in Sid’s throat. It feels backwards and upside down, but Sid doesn’t understand why until he feels Nate’s mouth on him. He moans into Nate’s dick, planting his feet and pushing himself up as much as he can until Nate’s hands come down to pin Sid’s hips to the mattress.

Nate is grinding his hips in tiny little motions, and Sid would guess that Nate has no idea he’s even doing it. He’s chasing his own pleasure, and Sid realizes that Nate’s planning to come before letting Sid finish. It’s brutally unfair. Sid tries to be good, tries to bring his boyfriend as much pleasure as possible; it’s hard to focus on sucking Nate’s dick when Nate has Sid’s dick in his mouth and Sid is focusing on not coming. He’s quickly losing the thread of what he’s doing and why he’s not supposed to come yet.

“Shit,” Nate gasps, pushing his hips down into Sid’s mouth, “you’re gonna make me come.”

Sid whines around Nate’s dick. Nate gives Sid a few gentle licks around the tip while still thrusting into Sid’s mouth, and then Sid can feel the way Nate’s whole body becomes a ball of tension, muscles clenching and tightening before suddenly releasing as Nate groans loudly and fills Sid’s mouth. Sid swallows, trying to suck every drop out of Nate. Nate is still licking around Sid’s dick, unfocused as he experiences his own pleasure, and between that and Nate’s orgasm, Sid is about to tip over the edge again. He kicks at Nate in warning, and Nate pulls off completely, sliding himself out of Sid’s mouth before replacing his dick with his tongue, eagerly licking into Sid’s mouth to taste himself.

“So fucking good for me,” Nate says. Sid can’t form words right now. He doesn’t know how he’s still thinking or breathing. His whole body is shaking, his dick is bobbing and pulsing, his hips are thrusting up into nothing. He grips the headboard tighter, letting it ground him. “Do you remember what the last one left is?”

“Conn Smythe,” Sid pants out.

“Good job,” Nate praises. Sid’s whole body lights up. He hears the drawer of his nightstand opening, but he still can’t see and he can’t spare a single thought to what Nate might be doing. All of his attention is focused on his dick and how badly he needs to come. He hears the lube bottle open again, and then there’s a dull pressure at his hole.

The silicone slides in easily. Sid moans at the fullness of it, the way it stretches his body out.

“I loved listening to you beg for my dick while you were fucking yourself with this,” Nate says. He pulls the toy out a few inches before pushing it back in hard and fast. “This hunk of plastic can’t compete with me, eh?”

“Want you always,” Sid says nonsensically. He’s so full and it feels so good but Nate is bigger and he wants Nate inside of him.

“Aw, Sid, that’s sweet,” Nate says. “Your mouth was so perfect, I couldn’t hold out to get inside of your tight little hole, so you’ll have to deal with your toy for now. I bet I can make you feel so good with it, though.” He pushes the dildo in further, then makes a circular motion until the tip of the fake dick slides directly over Sid’s prostate.

“Touch me,” Sid begs.

Nate tightens the grip he has on Sid’s knee. “I am,” he says. He’s so mean. Sid hates him.

“Nate,” he gasps.

“Is this not how you want to be touched?” Nate asks. He pushes the dildo in hard and Sid cries out. He moves his hand off of Sid’s knee and traces light patterns up and down Sid’s dick.

“Oh, fuck,” Sid moans. “Nate, keep doing that, please, fuck.”

To Sid’s surprise, Nate listens to him. He speeds up the motion of the dildo, fucking Sid with it hard and fast, and then he’s gripping Sid’s dick loosely and jerking him off slowly. The combination of different speeds and motions is confusing and infuriating and perfect. It’s bringing Sid closer to coming, but not so quickly that he can’t bask in the good feeling for a long while, enjoying the way the build up makes his whole body shake, groaning with pleasure. He floats away, lost in the feeling of Nate making his body sing, until he and Nate both realize at the same time that it’s almost too late and Nate pulls the dildo out and releases Sid’s dick.

“NO!” Sid shouts, writhing on the bed. He makes sure to never loosen his grip on the headboard. “No, Nate, you’re so mean, I need to come, I’m right there, just one more stroke, one more, please, please, I need it, you have to.”

“Sshhh, Sid, you did so good for me,” Nate says soothingly, running his hands over Sid’s arms. Sid is sobbing again, rolling around in the bed, trying to seek out Nate’s touch, figure out a way to rub off on Nate, anything to come. Nate keeps rubbing Sid’s shoulders, reaching up for his hands after a moment. He loosens Sid’s grip on the headboard and massages Sid’s aching hands until they relax. His fingers brush over Sid’s cheeks and Sid jerks his head away from the touch. Nate laughs. “You want to keep the blindfold on?”

Sid nods, still crying and shaking. “You’re so mean,” he repeats through the tears. “Why won’t you let me come? I need to, I was so close, I was right there, why did you stop?”

“Six times,” Nate reminds him gently. “You did so good for me. You know why I stopped. I’m so proud of you, Sid, just take a few deep breaths for me.”

Sid tries, shuddering through a few breaths while Nate keeps massaging Sid’s shoulders and arms and hands.

“Good job,” Nate praises him as he feels Sid relax under his hands. “There’s one more trophy you’ve earned, Sid.”

“No,” Sid groans. “No, Nate, you promised.”

“What trophy are we missing, Sid?”

“The Cup,” Sid gasps out.

“Mhmmm,” Nate confirms. “But for that, you deserve to come.”

“Thank you, thank you, Nate - please -”

“Relax, Sid, I’m gonna get you there, I promise,” Nate says, trying to comfort Sid. His hands have moved lower, pinching and rubbing over Sid’s nipples. “But there’s no rush, right?”

“I’ve been so good,” Sid whines. “Please, Nate.”

“You have been good,” Nate agrees. “How do you want to come?”

Sid groans. “Want you inside me,” he begs.

“I can manage that,” Nate says happily, and Sid can hear him stroking himself. He wants to help, wants to touch Nate, but he doesn’t think he has enough control over his limbs to do anything remotely useful. “It’s a good thing you’re so fucking gorgeous, Sid, can’t stay soft for even ten minutes after coming when you’re around.”

Sid arches his back under the praise. Nate spreads Sid’s legs apart further, rubbing the tip of his dick over Sid’s hole.

Sid’s hands come down to his face, trying to brush the blindfold out of the way. He needs to see Nate’s face.

“Careful, Sid,” Nate chastises him, catching a hand where he was mostly slapping at his own face to try to get it off. He whimpers until Nate removes the blindfold and kisses him. Suddenly, Nate is pushing in, stretching Sid out so much more than the toy ever could. He’s going in so slowly, no matter how much Sid wraps his legs around Nate to try to push him in faster. Finally, he bottoms out, hips flush against Sid’s.

“You feel like a fucking dream,” Nate groans. “Made to take my dick like this, fuck.”

Sid pushes into Nate, trying to get more - more stretch, more friction, more movement - just more.

“I’ve got you,” Nate says. “You’ve been so good, you can come any time, Sid. Ok?”

“Please,” Sid groans.

Nate’s hips are moving away from Sid, and then suddenly they snap back, thrusting in hard. Sid moans in pleasure. Nate repeats the motion, making sure to keep the thrusts hard and fast but with plenty of time in between them to drive Sid absolutely insane.

“Your ass is perfect,” Nate moans. “Can’t wait to fill you up.”

Sid wants that so badly. He wants to feel Nate lose it, fucking him until he can’t hold on anymore and he’s spilling into Sid so much that it leaks out everywhere, makes a mess of everything. He grips Nate’s arm tightly.

Fuck. He’s so fucking close, and if he let himself, he could come right now, but he wants to come with Nate, wants the feeling of Nate unable to control himself and falling into wild erratic thrusts before screaming Sid’s name to be the thing that tips him over the edge. He doesn’t know how to communicate that to Nate, but he thinks Nate understands because he’s groaning and pushing in hard, over and over, thrusting as fast as he can.

“Shit, Sid, you’re so tight,” he moans. “Feels so good around me.” He snakes a hand between them, finally touching Sid’s neglected dick, and Sid’s body is on fire, thrashing around underneath Nate as Nate jerks him off in time with his thrusts. His whole body is lit up, every muscle contracting in preparation for a sudden release, but Sid pushes through, staves it off, lets himself get taken higher and higher into the buildup until -

“Sid, fuck,” Nate cries out, and Sid can feel him throbbing inside, pushing in once, twice more before Sid is falling over the edge with a wordless shout, everything going fuzzy as he finally finds his release, striping come up his abs and onto his own chin as his entire body goes stiff with pleasure. He can feel himself pulsating around Nate’s dick, pulling him in deeper as Nate comes hard, and then Sid finally draws in a deep breath and the contractions slow down. His whole body is boneless, an unmoving puddle on the bed, and Nate is collapsed on top of him, breathing hard.

They lay like that for a long time, neither of them willing to put any amount of distance between them. Nate’s softening cock eventually slides out of Sid, followed by a rush of come.

“How are you doing?” Nate murmurs.

Sid doesn’t know if he has words right now. “Hmmmm.”

Nate smiles; he doesn’t need more than that to understand Sid.

A while later, Nate manages to get Sid into the shower and then puts him in Nate’s clothes, some sweatpants and a t-shirt. He changes the sheets and tucks Sid into bed before curling up beside him.

“Video?” Sid asks.

“It’s in the folder,” Nate confirms. “Might be our longest one yet.”

“We should watch it together tomorrow,” Sid sighs into Nate’s chest. “Want you to fuck me while we watch it.”

Nate pulls Sid even closer. “You’re going to love it.”

Sid nods into Nate before drifting off wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms.

Day Eight

Sid is in the kitchen, nominally cooking breakfast for himself and Nate. Nate slept in the guest bedroom again last night, and Sid hadn’t slept at all. He’d mostly hugged Nate’s pillow into his chest and sobbed into it, hoping he was quiet enough that Nate didn’t hear him. He thinks Nate is still in bed; he’s definitely not anywhere downstairs.

He keeps losing focus, trying to figure out where the eggs are, what to do with them, how to turn on the stove.

Nate appears suddenly, staring at Sid over the kitchen island. Sid is still struggling, trying not to cry when he can’t figure out where the milk is or why he was even looking for it in the first place.

“Here you go,” Nate says carefully, walking over to Sid and grabbing the carton off the counter where Sid had placed it. “Just a little splash in the eggs, and then you can beat them with a fork.” Sid obeys, pouring the milk in and then grabbing the fork Nate had offered to him. He beats the eggs until they’re mixed well.

“Good job,” Nate praises him. Tears spring to Sid’s eyes.

Nate wraps his arms around Sid, tugging him close. “Did you get any sleep last night?” Nate whispers.

Sid shakes his head.

Nate holds him for a long time. “Let me finish breakfast, why don’t you go sit on the couch?”

Sid shakes his head. He doesn’t want to let Nate out of his sight. He’s worried that if he does, Nate will disappear and never come back.

Nate seems to understand, so he guides Sid over to one of the barstools in the kitchen. He finishes cooking, pouring the eggs into a frying pan and mixing them around until they’re set, then putting them on a plate. It’s a pretty boring breakfast, just scrambled eggs, but Sid hadn’t been able to think about anything else to make. He hopes it’s enough for Nate. Especially since Nate had to do most of the cooking.

Nate sits next to Sid and the two of them eat a little. Neither has been hungry since everything happened, but they know they need food to survive.

“Stuck in your head a little?” Nate asks.

Sid nods. Usually he gets like this about hockey - unable to focus, mind hopping around in anxiety and panic. The one sure way that used to get him to snap out of this was when Nate would spend his time with Sid in bed until Sid felt like he might float away. It was like a reset button on his brain. From the way Nate is looking at Sid, he knows they’re thinking about the same thing.

A knock on the door gets their attention, and Nate walks over to see who it is.

“Good news, I hope?” Nate asks as he lets Pat inside. Pat nods.

“They’re backing off the morality clause issue and leaving it up to your teams, meaning that you’re both expected to be at training camp in September,” Pat says with a grin.

Nate visibly relaxes until he seems more at ease than he has been in days. Some color returns to his cheeks, and he’s actually smiling. “Is there anything else we need to do to clean up this whole mess?”

Pat shrugs. “The videos and pictures are out there. Aside from the statements we already made, there’s not much you can actually do. Just, you know, if you ever make more - well, be more careful if you can.”

Sid grimaces. He’d prefer to never have sex again than to risk a repeat of this.

“Thank you,” Nate says gratefully. Sid remains silent.

“I’m gonna head out,” Pat says. “Just dropped by to give you the good news, and let you know to be in touch. There will be lawsuits and investigations in the next few weeks. Sid, have you gotten a new phone yet?”

Sid shakes his head. Nate frowns in his direction.

“Well, get on that, ok? I need to be able to call you.”

Sid stares at his feet. Nate thanks Pat for everything he’s done, and then the front door is closing again. Nate puts an arm around Sid’s waist and leads him over to the couch. It’s easier to go along with it than resist.

“You wanna talk about it?” Nate asks after arranging Sid on the couch.

“Talk about what?” Sid finally says, voice rough.

Nate sighs. “You’re a mess today,” he says. “Worse than the past few days.”

Sid wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, scream in his face for leaving Sid alone each night. Instead, he keeps his gaze unfocused and tries to act like he’s not falling apart.

“Come on,” Nate says, bumping Sid slightly with his shoulder. “You heard Pat. We still get to play.”

“Don’t leave me,” Sid says. It doesn’t make sense in the context of the conversation they’re having, and Nate seems surprised, but Sid needs him to understand. “Please, Nate, don’t leave me.”

“Hey, calm down, I’m not going anywhere,” Nate says softly.

Sid doesn’t respond, just keeps shaking on the couch. He tries to get himself under control, wrapping his arms around his body, but it doesn’t help.

“Sid,” Nate says firmly, tone switching instantly to one Sid recognizes easily. “Go to the kitchen and get me two glasses of water, no ice.”

Sid complies without thinking, standing from the couch and walking over to the kitchen. He grabs the pitcher out of the fridge and fills two glasses, then puts the pitcher away before bringing the water to Nate. It’s a little odd, because Nate typically prefers ice in his water. Sid always hates the flavor the ice imparts, which makes Nate laugh because the ice and the water are exactly the same, but Sid still thinks he’s right about this.

“Thank you,” Nate says with a small smile. He accepts one of the glasses of water but makes Sid keep the other. He puts his own on a small end table. “Drink yours,” he directs Sid. Sid obeys, draining the glass. He’s still standing, because Nate hasn’t told him to sit. Nate watches every movement of Sid’s throat until the glass is empty.

“Good job,” Nate praises softly. “You know that super fuzzy blanket in the second guest bedroom?”

Sid nods.

“Bring me that blanket.”

Sid turns instantly and walks up the stairs, finding the blanket neatly folded at the foot of the bed, and carries it downstairs to Nate, making sure to keep it folded as perfectly as he’d found it.

“Thank you, Sid,” Nate says when Sid presents the blanket to him. “Sit down next to me.”

Sid does, and Nate tucks the blanket around the two of them. It’s so soft; Sid remembers complaining when they’d first discovered it, because Nate insisted it go in the guest bedroom that no one ever uses and Sid had wanted to keep it for himself. Nate had won that battle when he’d pointed out the dozens of other blankets strewn about that Sid had fallen in love with and made Nate let him keep. To be fair, the guest bedroom probably did need a blanket.

After Nate is happy with how the blanket is draped over the two of them, he puts an arm around Sid to keep him close. Sid grins up at Nate, feeling like his brain is quieting down a little bit. He’s not quite floaty yet, but he’s already doing a lot better. Nate grabs the remote and puts on a documentary Sid hasn’t seen before. It’s about World War II, one of Sid’s favorite topics.

“Watch the movie, and make sure you pay attention,” Nate murmurs to him.

Sid nods, nestling himself into Nate and turning his focus to the screen. It’s comfortable and relaxing to lay here with Nate. Halfway through, Nate makes him drink the second glass of water. The documentary is good, and Sid is easily able to lose himself in the cadence of the narrator’s voice. When it’s over, Nate kisses Sid’s forehead.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better,” Sid admits.

“Good,” Nate says. “Let’s go get dressed, I’m taking you out to lunch.”

Sid hesitates. Despite Sid’s wheedling the day after everything had happened, neither of them has left the house since their videos were leaked. He’s not sure if he’s actually ready to be in public.

“Sid,” Nate says, the hint of a threat in his voice. “I’m not asking.”

He can trust Nate. He always trusts Nate. If Nate thinks they should go to lunch, then Sid trusts that it’ll be ok. He follows Nate up the stairs and smiles as Nate enters their bedroom - not the guest room. He puts on something appropriate for lunch, jeans and a t-shirt, while Nate watches him. When they’re both ready, Nate herds him into the passenger seat of his own car and then gets behind the wheel. He drives them into town, then finds a parking spot and directs Sid to stay in the car. Moments later, Nate returns with a bag.

Ah. Takeout. That’s easier than actually sitting in a restaurant. Still, at least this got the two of them away from their house, even if only for a little while. Sid expects Nate to drive them back home, so he makes a confused noise when Nate takes a right turn instead of a left. Nate gives him a look but doesn’t explain, so Sid keeps quiet for the rest of the journey.

A short time later, they reach one of Nate’s favorite beaches. He parks, then hops out of the car and grabs the bag of food and some blankets from the back seat. He opens Sid’s door and waits for Sid to get out, then he starts making his way down toward the sand.

When Nate finally finds the perfect spot, he spreads out the two blankets. “Sit on the red blanket,” he directs Sid once they’re laid out in a way that seems to make Nate happy. Sid complies, and Nate sits next to him. The beach isn’t as crowded as Sid has ever seen it, but it’s certainly not empty. His breathing picks up when he notices people looking at them.

“Ignore them,” Nate says firmly. “Look at me, Sid,” he says when Sid’s panic doesn’t dissipate. Sid flicks his eyes to Nate’s face. “Did you know that I’ve always wanted to have a beach picnic with you?” he asks Sid quietly. “But I was always too worried. We had to be careful to act like friends in public so no one would guess. Well, we don’t have to be careful anymore.”

“People are staring. They’re taking pictures.”

Nate shrugs. “Let them. I’ll tell you a little secret, eh? You’re Sidney Crosby. I’m pretty sure none of that bullshit could have happened and people would still be taking pictures of you at the beach.”

Sid snorts. Nate is probably right. Nate grins at him, and then unpacks their lunch containers from the bag, handing one to Sid with a plastic fork and keeping the other for himself.

“Eat,” Nate commands, and Sid obeys. The food is from one of their favorite restaurants, and it’s as good as always. Sid loves their pasta, and Nate loves their steak. To be fair, the steak does look pretty fantastic, and he finds himself wishing he could try a bite. Nate notices Sid’s wandering eyes and laughs. “You always do this,” he half-complains, putting the next bite on his fork and holding it up to Sid’s lips. Sid eats the steak happily.

“Thank you,” he says. “That’s so good.”

“I know. I tell you every time, and you still get the pasta and then eat half my steak.”

“The pasta is good, too,” Sid says, trying to defend himself. He puts some on his fork and feeds it to Nate.

“Yeah, ok, their pasta is good, too,” Nate admits. He reaches over with his fork for another bite, but Sid slaps his hand out of the way. Instead, Sid loads up his fork again and feeds Nate. Nate is glowing with happiness, more than Sid has seen in a long time.

They continue their meals mostly in silence, pausing every so often to share bites with each other. When they’re done, Nate puts the garbage back in the bag and then sits back down next to Sid, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Sid leans into the touch, and it makes him think that Nate has a good point; being able to be in public without constantly monitoring their actions is more freeing than he’d thought it would be. It’s pretty nice, and for a moment, Sid feels like a normal person, spending time with his boyfriend on the beach in the summer just like every other normal person around them.

Their happiness clouds over when a woman storms over to them. “How dare you,” she spits out.

“Excuse me?” Nate says icily. Sid would not want to be on the receiving end of that tone, but the woman takes no notice.

“My ten-year-old kid saw those disgusting videos of the two of you perverts,” she snaps. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Maybe your ten-year-old kid shouldn’t have unsupervised access to internet porn,” Nate says, tone still cold. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re trying to enjoy some time on the beach.”

“How dare you-”

“Hey, lady,” another nearby beach-goer interrupts. “Sit the fuck down and leave them alone, eh? They haven’t done anything wrong.”

Sid’s head snaps over to look at the man who intervened, and he shoots the guy a small smile to show his gratitude.

“There are KIDS nearby,” the woman half-shouts, “you can’t be using language like that -”

“Oh my god,” someone else says. “Who cares? You’re the one causing issues. Nate and Sid haven’t done anything wrong, let them hang out at the beach in peace.”

Other people pile on, shaming the woman into retreating to her beach chair. She quickly packs up her belongings and herds her kids along, shooting nasty looks at Nate and Sid the entire walk back to her car. Sid finds that it doesn’t actually bother him, not when everyone else around them seems to be on their side.

“You good?” Nate asks anxiously.

“Yeah,” Sid says, snuggling into his boyfriend and staring at the waves crashing along the shore. “Really good. This is nice.”

Nate smiles and watches the ocean with Sid for a long time.

Two Years Ago

“I miss you,” Nate says sadly. Sid wishes he could hug Nate, push the sadness out of his body. He gets like this sometimes, the distance between them during the season building up until Nate feels like he’s going to claw his eyes out if he can’t see Sid for real.

“One more week,” Sid reminds him.

“Yeah,” Nate says, sighing.

“Is there anything I can do to make this easier?” Sid asks.

Nate shrugs, looking at his phone screen. His cheeks are a little red, which tells Sid that Nate does have something in mind, but Sid is going to have to pry it out of him.

“Tell me,” Sid says, trying to copy the tone Nate uses to boss him around. It doesn’t work.

Nate shakes his head.

“Come on, Nate, I just wanna help. You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’ll do anything if it gets you to smile.”

“Anything?” Nate asks.

“Anything,” Sid promises. “Though, if you’re about to ask me to retire, I’ll need, like, a week. I wanna play a couple more games.”

Nate giggles. “As much as I’d love that, no.”

“Then what is it?”

“Will you, like…,” he trails off. Sid waits him out. “Like, tell me how to touch myself?”

“Oh,” Sid breathes. “Of course, Nate. I’d love to. Right now?”

“If that’s ok?”

“Mhmmm,” Sid says. “Are you comfy?” Sid can see Nate’s laying in bed, but he wants to make sure his boyfriend is fully relaxed.

“Yeah,” Nate confirms.

“Clothes?”

“Just underwear.” Nate tilts the phone to show him.

“Good. Keep those on for now. I want you to run your fingers over your neck lightly. If I was there, I’d be kissing you there, leaving marks. I love tracing my tongue along the muscles near the back of your neck,” Sid says softly. Nate sets the phone next to the bed, propped up so Sid can see him, and then he leans back and starts running the tips of his fingers along his neck, pausing near the back where his neck meets his shoulders, the places where Sid loves to bite down.

“Good job,” Sid says. “You can bring your fingers over to your pecs now. Squeeze them for me, good, just like that, then pinch your nipples a little bit. I love nibbling those, love feeling them get hard in my mouth.”

Nate groans. Sid can see his hips push up slightly as he pinches his nipples. He’s already leaking and a little desperate.

“Hands lower, Nate, touch your abs now. They’re so strong, so muscular. I could stare at them all day. One of my favorite places to come, love covering them and then licking it all up.

“Holy shit,” Nate moans.

“You can get a hand on yourself, but not underneath yet,” Sid says. “Just gentle pressure, run your hand up and down over your underwear. Tease yourself, just like I would. How wet are you right now?”

“So wet,” Nate says, tilting his hips toward the camera so Sid can see the wet spot in the front of Nate’s underwear.

“Wish I could taste it,” Sid says, causing Nate to moan again. Nate is still listening to Sid, giving himself barely-there touches up and down his dick.

“You can go a little harder, a little faster.”

“Fuck,” Nate groans as his hand brings him a little more pleasure. “Sid, please, can I - I need to-”

“Yeah, take them off for me,” Sid says. “You can touch yourself for real, now, but slowly, ok?”

Nate shoves his underwear down around his ankles, not even bothering to remove it, and grips himself, jerking slowly. His hips push up into the motion and his mouth falls open on a broken moan.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Sid says. He’s got his own hand on himself, jerking off as his boyfriend follows his instructions. He’s close enough to the edge that he thinks he may come before Nate.

“Sid,” Nate cries out.

“Not yet,” Sid says. “A little longer, hang on for me, ok? You’re so pretty right now, I could watch you like this forever. A little faster for me, perfect, just like that. You’re doing so good, you’re gonna make me - oh, god, Nate, I’m coming,” Sid groans, spurting over his fist.

“Shit,” Nate groans. “You sound so good, I want it, I need - please, Sid.”

Sid is panting now, trying to get his brain to work again. “Little more, faster, yeah, that’s so - that’s so good, Nate, holy shit.”

“Sid, I’m gonna -”

“Yeah, come for me, Nate.”

Nate cries out, back arching into his grip as he covers his abs with ropes of come. Sid wishes he was there to clean Nate up. He loves the way Nate tastes.

“Good?” Sid asks.

“Mhmmmm,” Nate says, voice drowsy.

Sid laughs. “Go take a nap. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you,” Nate says, blinking slowly at the camera.

“I love you, too,” Sid responds, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Day Twenty-Five

Their beach outing combined with the news that they’re clear to keep playing seems to flip a switch for Nate and Sid. Nate returned to sleeping in the master bedroom with a sheepish smile and an attempt at a whispered apology before Sid just shoved him into the bed and cuddled him aggressively. They go out in public more often, and usually either nothing happens or people approach to offer their support. Their teammates and friends have been defending them, and things overall seem to be looking up.

Mostly.

Sid finds Nate sitting in the shower sobbing one morning. “What’s wrong?” Sid asks, stripping his clothes to get in quickly and hug his boyfriend.

“Get out,” Nate sobs.

“Not happening. Talk to me.” Sid pulls Nate into a hug.

“I’m old,” Nate cries.

Sid feels lost. “You’re crying because you’re old?”

Nate nods.

“You know I’m eight years older than you, right?”

“But you’re not old,” Nate says through his tears.

Sid sighs and kisses Nate’s forehead, trying to wipe away his tears as the shower spray falls around them. “What’s going on, Nate?”

“I didn’t think this would happen so suddenly,” Nate says, still crying. “I thought I had more time and that there would be, like, warning signs. Not all at once.”

“Did you find a gray hair? Nate, it’s really no big deal, I think you’re gonna be even hotter when you start getting more gray on the sides like me.”

Nate looks at him, horror across his face. “I have gray hair?”

“No, of course not,” Sid says quickly. It’s a lie; Sid has noticed a couple popping up on Nate’s head, but if he hasn’t spotted them, Sid’s not about to point them out.

“I’m old,” Nate sobs.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

Nate shakes his head, crying in Sid’s arms on the floor of the shower. Sid rubs his back and waits him out.

“I think I need a Viagra prescription,” Nate finally mumbles out.

Well, that’s definitely not what Sid had been expecting. “You need - what?”

“I can’t get it up!” Nate exclaims angrily.

“Ok, ok, got it,” Sid says, trying to be comforting. “Nate, I don’t think you’re old or need Viagra.”

“So my dick’s just fucking broken?”

“No,” Sid says. “Come on, let’s get clean, and then we can talk about this not in the shower.” Sid drags Nate off the floor, washes his hair and body and then his own, and then dries them both off. He steers Nate over to the bed, pushing him into it and then climbing in next to Nate so they’re curled up together, naked. The shower and being in close proximity to his nude boyfriend has Sid half-hard, but true to his word, Nate is completely soft.

“Yours still works,” Nate snaps.

“Nate, come on. Your dick isn’t broken. What we went through is… traumatic. This is a normal response to that.”

Nate sighs. “I can’t even get hard enough to jerk off,” he admits. “I haven’t come since -.”

That part comes as a bit of a surprise to Sid. Sure, he knew they weren’t having sex, but he figured Nate had still been taking care of things himself. Sid certainly has been.

“It’s ok,” Sid says. “We’ll work through this. Let’s not focus on that, ok? Don’t think about coming, don’t think about your dick. Why don’t we just put our attention on what feels good.”

“Coming feels good,” Nate says, a little snarky.

“Nate,” Sid says. Then he pulls Nate into a kiss, making sure to run his fingers over Nate’s body and his favorite places. He traces Nate’s outer ear, around his neck, down to his nipples. Nate gasps into the kiss, pushing closer to Sid. He can tell Nate still isn’t hard, or anywhere close to it, but if he feels good, Sid is confident he’ll get there eventually.

“Good so far?” Sid asks, pulling back slightly.

“Yeah, but -”

“Nate, remember what I said. I don’t care if you’re hard or not. I asked if it feels good.”

Nate nods. “It does.”

“Good,” Sid says, then dives back in. He’s slow and methodical, kissing Nate’s neck, making him gasp in pleasure as he nibbles on it slightly. He spends a long time circling Nate’s nipple with his tongue, then switches to the other. Nate is writhing in the bed beneath Sid, groaning and crying out whenever Sid does something particularly good.

He’s still completely soft.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Sid says. “I’m so lucky I get to have this, and no one else does -”

“Everyone else does,” Nate says angrily. “Everyone has seen me like this.”

Sid shakes his head. “It’s not the same. You’re mine, and I’m yours. No one else knows what it feels like to have your complete attention on them, to feel the way your muscles contract under their hands when you get close, to feel the way your whole body vibrates when you like something I do.”

Nate looks up at him, worry written plainly all over his face. “You’re not mad that, like, the entire universe has seen me come?”

“I mean, I’m angry that our private lives got leaked like that, but I’m not mad at you, Nate. And watching a video of you - it’s got nothing on experiencing it in real life.”

“You don’t think I’m a slut?”

“Of course not,” Sid says. He kisses Nate’s neck and chest. “I think you’re incredible, and I’m so fucking lucky that you’re mine. No one else gets this, ever. I get to wake up next to you every day forever and you’ll still be mine, and I’ll still be yours.”

Nate pulls Sid into a kiss, and Sid almost doesn’t realize that Nate is grinding himself up into Sid’s thigh, desperate and needy and whining into the kiss, and so, so hard. He doesn’t want to draw attention to it and freak Nate out, so he lets Nate take the lead. Nate breaks the kiss, gasping for breath.

“Feels so good, fuck, Sid - I - holy shit, I’m so hard, I can’t stop, gonna come - “

“Do it,” Sid urges him on, pushing down slightly to increase the pressure for Nate. “Wanna feel you come all over me.”

Nate cries out, back arching beneath Sid, and Sid feels the warm, sticky mess on his thigh almost immediately. He can’t help himself, snaking a hand between them to gather the mess and spread it over his own dick, jerking himself off quickly until he’s striping over Nate’s abs with a groan.

They catch their breath for a moment, kissing each other. “You still want Viagra?”

Nate blushes. “Shut up.”

“Should probably talk to your therapist, though,” Sid says, voice serious. “We both should.”

Nate nods, pressing his face into Sid’s shoulder.

“For the record,” Sid says softly. “I don’t care if you can never get it up again, if you have to take Viagra, if you get more gray hair, if you get all wrinkled. You’re mine forever. I want to get old with you.”

“...what do you mean more gray hair?”

Day Sixty-Seven

This is always Sid’s least favorite day of the year by far, but it feels even worse this year. He clings to Nate as if that will stop the waiting planes or shorten the distance between Pittsburgh and Denver. He’s extra worried this year, unable to get the TSN panelist’s idea out of his head; what if someone tries to hurt Nate on the ice? The league isn’t exactly the most accepting, and there are plenty of homophobic assholes. He knows Nate can take care of himself, but he’s still anxious.

“One more season,” Nate whispers in Sid’s ear. Sid nods, not trusting himself to speak in fear of starting to cry. They’d agreed before Sid signed his last contract that this year would be his last, one more two-year contract before retiring to Denver. Nate had rewarded Sid’s good decision-making skills by forcing Sid to wear one of Nate’s jerseys while he rode Nate, telling him it would be good practice for being a WAG. Sid had rolled his eyes and come his brains out, ruining the jersey beyond repair.

“I’ll miss you the whole time,” Nate continues. “Every single day. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sid manages to get out. He can’t let go. He can’t go back to Pittsburgh, he can’t be alone or let Nate be alone because something could happen to one of them and -

“Sid,” Nate says. “You’re spiraling. Breathe. We’re going to be ok. Our teammates have been amazing this whole time, right? I want you to enjoy your last season. Your last training camp, your last time skating out for opening night, your last time giving the first captain’s speech of the season, all of the lasts.”

“My last year living apart from you,” Sid says morosely.

“Yeah,” Nate says, and Sid can feel the smile on his face. “It’s going to be amazing next year - you’ll be getting on the same plane as me and we’ll fly to Denver together. I’ll get to show you off to everyone. I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

Sid takes a deep breath. “You’re right,” he says. “I want to enjoy this. I’m just a little terrified. I have to walk into that locker room and act like an authority figure when they’ve all seen me - well, you know.”

“Anyone reasonable in that locker room wouldn’t have watched,” Nate says confidently. “Our friends wouldn’t do that to us.”

Sid doesn’t respond, just grips Nate tighter. Nate holds him, too, and the two of them stand there as long as they can. When they finally pull apart, Nate captures him in a long kiss before letting him get on his plane.

****************

When Sid lands in Pittsburgh, there’s a new folder waiting on his new iPhone. He’s not sure when it appeared, since he’s been trying to touch the new phone as little as possible. As much as Nate insists that he’d get used to not having a button, he has decidedly not gotten used to it yet, and he finds the controls clunky and not intuitive. Plus, he sort of hates phones now.

He taps on the unmarked folder and it prompts him for a password. Sid frowns and types in 8787, but the phone screen tells him that’s not right. He tries the old password Nate had set up on their old folder, and gasps when the new folder on his new phone opens. It’s identical to their old folder, but he thought Nate had deleted this all. His brow furrows when he sees there’s a few extra files in there.

Sid waits until he gets home before clicking on any of the new files. He goes for the oldest first, uploaded three weeks ago. It’s a video, and Sid recognizes the bed in his house in Halifax immediately from the thumbnail. It’s short - thirty-one seconds long - and Sid’s heart rate picks up as his fingers hovers over the play button.

“Hi, Sid,” Nate’s voice comes through the upgraded speakers on his new phone. Damn, the new phone was worth it for that alone - gone is the tinny sound. Instead, this almost sounds like Nate is standing right next to him. It makes his heart ache that Nate is still on a plane over some state in the midwest instead of curled up in bed next to Sid. “I probably should have asked before doing this, but I thought - well, this is our thing. And I like our thing. So I’m going to keep making videos for you. You don’t have to watch them or make your own, I don’t want you to feel pressured into that. It’s more that… well, I like the idea that you might be watching me when you miss me. Anyway, uh, I love you a lot, and I’m gonna make sure to text you every time a new iPhone software update comes out to make sure you’ve upgraded and I’m also gonna get you a new phone twice a year? Maybe once a year is enough, I don’t know. I don’t want them to take this from us. So if you want - well, there’s some new stuff and all our old stuff. And if you don’t want, you can delete the folder.”

Sid swipes at the tears in the corners of his eyes, trying to brush them aside so he can focus on the video version of Nate. He watches again and again, trying to lose himself in the soothing cadence of Nate’s voice. After a long time, he browses through Nate’s other uploads. It’s mostly pictures, Nate hard in his underwear, Nate’s softening dick surrounded by come, Nate filled with his favorite yellow and black dildo and his back arched in pleasure. There are a couple of videos, but Sid saves those for later. He doesn’t want to rush through all of the new gifts Nate has given him. He focuses on the set of pictures Nate had taken with the dildo as he gets a hand on himself, swiping through to focus on Nate’s face and the obvious enjoyment he was getting out of this. The last picture shows a relaxed Nate on his bed, stomach striped with come, dildo still inside of him. Sid groans at the picture and comes all over himself. He snaps a quick picture, nothing as good as what Nate had given him, and uploads it to the folder.

He immediately gets a text from Nate, a string of emojis featuring fruits and vegetables and water droplets that Sid isn’t going to attempt to decipher. Instead, he painstakingly finds the less than and three symbols and puts a few of them together to form a row of hearts. There, that’s good enough. He’s never really liked emojis anyway.

He gets a response from Nate that has some sort of laughing emoji and the words ‘never change, Sid’, which Sid will interpret as something good and not as Nate mocking him.

Day One-Hundred and Four

Sid puts on a Penguins jersey for the first game of the season for the last time ever. He runs a slow finger over the C on the front, remembering the pride he felt the first time he donned it. He tries not to get emotional over the whole thing, but it hits him harder than he thought it would. It’s hard to believe this is the last time he’ll be playing on opening night. The last time the PA announcer will yell out the names of the entire roster, with Sid’s name last as captain. The last time he will get to hear the crowd scream as he skates out for the first time of the season.

“You good?” Rusty asks from the stall next to his. Sid nods. He can do this. One last season of hockey, and then he gets to wake up next to Nate every day for the rest of his life. It’s not such a bad trade, and he’s really looking forward to retirement.

An intern enters the locker room holding a bouquet of flowers. “Delivery for Sid,” she says, handing them to him. His teammates chirp him, laughing at how Sid’s got a secret admirer, assuming the flowers can’t be from Nate. When Sid looks closer, though, he knows his boyfriend’s mark when he sees it.

The flowers are yellow roses, traditionally used to express friendship, though Sid knows it’s to express ‘Penguins’. One deep red rose is placed in the middle of the bouquet, which some might interpret as love, but Sid knows should only be seen as ‘Avalanche’. Sure enough, the card that came with it says - “Good luck on your last opening night. I can’t wait to have you by my side next year. -N”

“There’s a card? Who are they from?” Rikard asks eagerly.

“Nate, obviously,” Sid says. He can’t stop smiling as he places them carefully into his stall, making sure they don’t get crushed.

“Cute,” Rusty says, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. From the outside, Sid could see how Nate doesn’t give off the most romantic vibes ever, but he knows his boyfriend better than that.

“Come on,” Sid says loudly, feeling confident. “Let’s get out there and crush the season, eh?”

The guys all cheer as they file down the tunnel toward the ice. As they all walk in front of him, Sid notices that their sticks are all wrapped at the top with rainbow stick tape. A silent statement of support for their captain. He blinks the emotion out of his eyes and takes a deep breath or two until he finally feels ready to play in his last ever first game of the season.

Day One-Hundred and Five

Sid watches and tries not to laugh as Nate stares stubbornly into the camera, not speaking. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and he looks like he might tear someone’s head off. Sid is so, so in love with that man.

“Nate?” the reporter prompts.

“Yes?” Nate snaps.

“Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“You can if you want to,” Nate says coldly.

“I asked where you got the fancy lingerie in those videos,” the reporter says, and it’s clear he’s stifling laughter like he thinks he’s telling the best joke in the universe. Sid wants to punch him in the stomach.

Nate keeps staring straight ahead as if he didn’t hear the guy. “I’d be happy to answer any questions related to the game I just played. In which I scored three goals.”

“Have you made any new videos lately?” the rude reporter asks. Sid imagines the guy will be losing locker room access very soon.

“Sure,” Nate says sweetly. “Did you see that highlight-reel second goal I scored? That’s gotta be on a video somewhere, right? How about that assist I had on Cale’s goal, that one was pretty nice.”

The reporter makes a frustrated noise before a PR person appears and shuffles everyone away from Nate and the video ends.

Sid calls Nate immediately. The second Nate picks up, Sid doesn’t even wait for him to say hello. “Holy shit, Nate, you’re so snarky. I love when you get like that with reporters. That was incredible, your game was incredible. I miss you.”

“Sid?” Nate asks, sniffling, his voice thick with tears.

“Oh, Nate. What’s wrong?”

“That guy was such a dick,” Nate sobs. “I had a four point night, three goals, and all he could talk about was…”

“Listen to me,” Sid says. “You ignore that guy and everyone like him. You’re incredible. They’ll move onto something else eventually, ok? You’re on pace for 328 points this season.”

Nate giggles wetly. “I don’t know if I’ll manage 82 hat tricks,” he says.

“One’s a good start,” Sid says. “You were insane tonight. I love watching you play.”

“Will you come to my games next season?” Nate asks, voice small.

“Obviously,” Sid says. “You wouldn’t be able to keep me away. I’ll be at all 41 home games, wearing your jersey.”

Nate sniffles again. “I can’t wait for that.”

“Same here, Nate.”

“Hold on a sec, there’s someone at my door,” Nate says. Sid can hear him walking over to the front door and peering through the window to see who it is, and then he can hear the front door open. “Someone left me a bag of food?”

“What kind of food?” Sid asks as if he doesn’t know.

“Um,” Nate says, rifling through. “It’s from my favorite Mexican place. Carne asada tacos and an order of churros.”

“You’re a lucky guy,” Sid says.

“There’s a note with it,” Nate continues.

“Oh, is there?” Sid teases. He knows there’s a note there, because he had spent more than ten minutes trying to come up with something to say to accurately convey his emotions before giving up and placing the order. He’d left it on - “Four points deserves churros,” an old joke the two of them had from years ago. He hadn’t signed it.

“Thanks, Sid,” Nate says.

“Might have to change it for next year,” Sid says.

“To what?” Nate asks around a mouthful of taco.

“Well, if I’m there in person, four points probably deserves a blowjob.”

Nate laughs. “I still want churros, too.”

“You got it,” Sid says, grinning. As he and Nate keep chatting while Nate eats his food, Sid realizes how much better he feels than he expected. After this whole thing happened, he thought their lives were over, but their relationship is as strong as it’s ever been. They hang up after an hour, Nate finally calmed down and Sid needing to get to bed.

As Sid drifts off to sleep, he thinks about the fact that he’s currently wearing Nate’s sweatshirt.

He grins as he considers what Nate’s reaction will be when he wears it to practice tomorrow and goes through his pre-game interview wearing a 29 proudly on his chest.

Sid bets that Nate will be horny enough about it to upload a new video to their not-so-secret folder. He can’t wait.