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“Don’t know why you’re mad at me,” Geno snaps as Sid disappears into the hotel bathroom. “I’m the only one that did anything tonight.”
Sid leans out of the doorway. He has his toothbrush in his hand. “You scored one goal, Geno. Just one.”
“More than you did. More than you have been doing. How long has it been? Six games?”
“Fuck off.”
“Not even shoot the puck anymore. No wonder we’re almost in last place.”
The toothbrush clatters into the sink when Sid throws it down. He points a finger at Geno. “This is not my fault,” he snarls. “You are not putting this shit on me.”
“Then who? Look at numbers, Sid. Me and Phil are doing fine. Where the fuck are you? Supposed to be a leader. Getting to be embarrassing, Sid.”
He steps out of the bathroom and Geno squares his shoulders as Sid stops right in front of him.
Sid has to tip his head up to look at him. Geno’s always enjoyed that.
“Why don’t you just leave then? Waive your no movement and go somewhere else.”
“That what you want?”
“I don’t care anymore,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Do whatever you want.” He turns on his heels but Geno grabs his wrist and turns him back around.
“You really want me to leave?”
“I want you to stop bitching to me about things I can’t change. We’re all trying.”
“You try harder.”
They stand there, seething at each other with Geno’s fingers loose around Sid’s wrist.
He could slip away if he wanted to. He could shove him back.
But Geno knows he won’t.
Sid smiles before he slips his hands beneath Geno’s shirt, his palms cupping the cut of his hips.
“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” Sid says before he kisses him.
Geno lets himself be pushed back onto the bed. He bounces on the mattress and Sid straddles his hips.
“Only sometimes,” he asks.
Sid rolls his eyes and pulls his own shirt over his head.
-
In the morning at breakfast Tanger spends more time staring at the two of them than eating.
When Geno goes up for seconds he follows close behind.
“Are you guys okay?”
Geno scoops more scrambled eggs onto his plate and glances over at Sid. He’s talking quietly to Olli but Olli is smiling so it can’t be too serious.
“Fine, why?”
“I could hear you guys arguing last night and I’m just….” He trails off and Geno realizes that Tanger looks genuinely concerned.
Geno puts his plate down.
“It sounded bad.”
“It’s, you know, just stress. Sometimes we fight.”
“Do you fight a lot?”
Geno shrugs. He doesn’t think so. This is how it’s always been. He’s used to it. “Have to tell each other how we feel. That’s healthy, yes?”
“Yeah, talking is healthy but fighting like that….Geno, I don’t know.” He looks down at his feet. “It doesn’t go beyond that does it?”
“What do you mean?”
Tanger drops his voice to a whisper. “It doesn’t ever get physical does it?”
Geno frowns. “You think we hit each other?”
“I’m just asking. I want to make sure you’re both okay.”
“No, we never hit. Would never hurt each other.” He rolls his wrists before he cross his arms over his chest. Sid had held him down pretty hard last night but it wasn’t like he didn’t ask for it. “Not like that.”
Tanger nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he looks at Geno’s arms then up to the bite mark that’s barely hidden behind the neck of his sweatshirt. If he heard them fighting he definitely heard what came afterwards.
“Is it like foreplay then?”
Geno laughs loud enough to draw attention from the rest of the group. Sid looks at him curiously and Geno pats Tanger on the back before picking his plate back up.
“Don’t worry about it.”
He touches Sid’s shoulder before he sits down beside him.
Beneath the fabric hides his own bruises and scratches.
Sid doesn’t pause his conversation but he does put his hand high on Geno’s thigh when he sits down.
-
He loves Sid more than anything.
More than Russia, more than hockey.
If someone made him choose between either of them and Sid he would surrender his citizenship and hang up his skates before they even finished the sentence.
Sid would do the same, he knows he would.
For all the talk of him being a hockey robot or saying there’s nothing more important than the game Geno knows Sid would leave it all behind for him.
They love each other.
They don’t always like each other.
-
It started as an accident, really.
When they were young and he was fresh off the plane from Russia and the only English he knew was Pittsburgh and hockey and Sidney Crosby.
He made Gonch tell him the names that fans of other team yelled at Sid from the stands because no one else would.
“They call him a cry baby,” he said as he shook his head and unlaced his skates. “Says he whines too much.”
“But he doesn’t,” Geno said back. He looked across the room at Sid. He was in his stall with his head down. Sid was the best player on the ice every night and he really didn’t understand how everyone didn’t see that.
“He’s young,” Gonch answered and stood up with a groan as he shook out his shoulders. “Try not to get old.”
He patted Geno on the back stomped off.
Geno stared across the room until Sid looked up and locked eyes.
He smiled and Sid nodded back.
Weeks later they were practicing face offs, just them and a whole lot of empty ice.
Geno’s English was still rudimentary at best and he was getting frustrated because Sid kept winning.
So he started to cheat a little, just a little, but it was enough to make Sid stand up straight and refuse to move.
“You’re cheating,” he said. “Every time.”
“Not cheating. Seeing things.”
“I’m watching you. You’re moving your feet.”
“Cry about it,” Geno muttered and bent down, ready for the next draw.
Sid was still standing and when Geno glanced up at him he saw that his eyes were blazing.
Warmth bloomed in his belly as he drew himself up to his fully height.
Sid met his eyes like it was a challenge.
Back at Mario’s guest house Geno pushed Sid up against the inside of the front door.
“You cheat every single time,” Sid gasped as Geno shoved a knee between his thighs. “That’s the only way you win. I’ve been watching you.”
Geno pulled back, strangely satisfied at the way Sid tried to follow his lips. “You watch me lots?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said and Geno wasn’t sure what that meant but when Sid jammed his hands beneath his shirt and slid his palms up his chest, that was clear.
-
It’s easy to rile each other up.
Sid will make a snide comment about Russian food.
Geno will accidentally buy the wrong kind of peanut butter.
“Pass the puck next time.”
“Stop turning it over.”
They pick and pull at each other, words getting harsher and louder until one of them breaks.
Then hands wander and lips drag and love yous are passed back and forth on every breath they take.
Geno doesn’t think anything of it because it’s the way it’s always been.
But he can’t seem to shake the look of worry on Tanger’s face out of his mind.
Sid’s already in bed when he gets out of the shower.
He has his iPad on his lap and the tinny sound of game replay is pumping through the speakers.
Geno watches him with the toothpaste in his hand. Sid squeezes from the middle even though he knows it drives him crazy.
He could bring it up and Sid could tell him that it’s his house, his rules and Geno could act like he’s going get dressed and leave and they’d fight it out and then fuck like their lives depended on it and tomorrow they’d do it all over again.
Sid frowns down at the screen and taps his index finger against the middle of his bottom lip and Geno sets the toothpaste back on the counter.
When he stretches out along Sid’s side Sid drops his hand to the back of his head and runs his fingers through his damp hair.
Geno grabs a pillow and holds it beneath his head.
“Tanger hear us,” he says and Sid’s hand stops moving.
“When?”
“At the hotel after last game.” He hides his smile against the inside of his arm as Sid’s face pales. “Heard us fight and then….afterwards.”
“That’s….” Sid takes a careful breath and sets the iPad down. “That’s the most embarrassing thing. Was he terrible about it? He’s going to chirp us like crazy, he’s probably just waiting for the right time. I’m going to kill him.”
“Didn’t care about the sex, Sid. Isn’t going to make fun. He talked to me about fight. He was worried.”
“Did you tell him it was nothing?”
Geno nods. “He didn’t think it was. Maybe he’s right.”
Sid stares down at him and Geno pushes himself up so he’s leaning against the headboard. He takes Sid’s hand.
“We fight a lot. All the time over the stupidest shit.”
“It’s not all the time.”
“It’s a lot of the time and then we always fuck-.”
“Do you not like that?”
“No,” Geno says quickly. “Love, is great.” He squeezes Sid’s hand. “But why do we have to say mean things for us to love each other?”
“I love you all the time.”
Geno looks down at their hands and Sid moves in one swift motion to slide onto his lap. He holds Geno’s face in both his hands.
“I love you.”
“I know. Love you too, more than anything but…” He sighs. “Getting older. Getting tired of all the fights.”
“Then we’ll stop.”
“Make it sound so easy. Been doing the same thing for years, not going to be an easy habit to break.”
“You think I can’t do it?”
“This sounds like the start of a fight,” he says with a smile and Sid drops his forehead onto his shoulder.
“I’ll be better,” he says, his voice muffled as his lips press against the side of his neck. “We’ll work on it.”
“Talk instead of fight.”
“Okay,” Sid says and Geno manhandles him onto his side. He slips down next to him and puts his hand on the side of his face.
“Be better for each other,” he says.
Sid nods then leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet.