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“It’s too hot to be alive,” Conor said into the crook of his elbow, carefully adjusted to not touch the remains of his lunch or the empty water bottles. He was lying on Sid’s dock, enjoying the sunshine after he was so cruelly denied his summer lie-in (he had gotten kicked out of bed after stealing all of the blankets and then making fun of Sid’s bed head).
There hadn’t been a lot of things that Conor was actually expecting from this summer, besides chilling near large sources of water. He definitely hadn’t expected the invitation to “train” with Sid until the start of Sid’s hockey school.
After all, just about everything he had wanted had already happened, before it was actually even officially summer. He had his second (second) cup ring when he’d never even expected a first ring. Hell, he still had trouble believing he had even managed to make it into the NHL. He had a job that he loved, and his - boyfriend? Fuckbuddy? Bro he had sex with? Was pretty okay.
Conor mused out loud to himself about calling Sid his bro-he-had-sex-with to his face and wondered if the thing his face would do was worth the death that would be waiting for him right afterward.
“You wanted to call me a bro-you-had-sex-with just to see what I would do but you still can’t tell Sully that he’s been saying your last name wrong since you were 16? And shouldn’t it be bro-sex instead?”
Conor blinked and rolled onto his back, squinting and trying to get a good look at Sid against the glare of the sunlight. “When did you get here? Wait. Bro-sex? Are you a pod person?”
Sid laughed and dropped his hat on Conor’s face. “One, I live here. This is my dock. Two, try training with MacKinnon or Marchand and see what happens. Three, according to the Canadian media, I’m a robot, not a pod person.”
“So you get a humor upgrade during the summer?” Conor pushed Sid’s hat away to see him, grateful it wasn’t that sweat-stained mess of a “lucky” hat from the season.
“It’s a trial basis. Anyway, I came out here to find out if there was anything you cared about for dinner, ” Sid said.
“If I say no, am I going to get stuck eating chicken and rice? I am sick of chicken and rice.” Conor really wasn’t kidding about being sick of it. He got game day routines, but sometimes Sid’s were a bit much. Especially when they got in the way of him getting a quick handjob or whatever before their game day nap.
“Eh. I was thinking of chicken and pasta for a change of pace, actually.” Sid grinned his stupid crooked smile and laughed ridiculously. “No, I was thinking of steaks on the grill. Maybe with some corn on the cob? I got double chocolate chunk cookies for dessert.”
“Of course you got chocolate cookies for dessert. Why do I like you? Is it stockholm syndrome? The cookies do sound nice. But what are we going to do until then?” Conor asked.
Sid smiled. “I’ve got some ideas,” he said, blushing lightly.
Conor waggled his eyebrows as he pushed himself into a reclining position.
“That could be on the agenda later.”
“Of course you have an agenda for our sex life. Let me guess, you are going to pencil it in between doing squats and doing lunges?”
Sid rolled his eyes and tapped Conor’s shoulder with his fist. “Dude, let me talk, bro.”
Conor mouthed 'bro' and giggled to himself. “If we are bros, does that mean we are just broning when we are boning or eye-dee-kay?”
“Anyway. I meant something like those sailboards I have? Or there’s some kayaks the neighbors said I could borrow whenever I felt like it.” Sid gesticulated, nearly throwing his water bottle in the lake, “Or - or I have two inner tubes and a floating cooler thing.”
“So, lazy lake day? That sounds amazing. And here you said we weren’t soulmates.” Conor fiddled with the label on his water bottle.
“Soulmates still don’t exist outside of those harlequins that Geno reads.”
Conor pouted. “Don’t be a goal dasher, Sid. It’s mean. I can have a soulmate if I want. Wait. I thought Geno said he didn’t read them?”
“Geno only says that because Ovi admitted to reading them to help himself learn English and Geno refuses to admit that Ovi might have any sort of good idea.”
“I don’t understand Geno and Ovi’s friendship at all, and it’s even worse to fathom when you’re hungry.” Conor tried to push himself to his feet, but just sort of flopped back onto his back.
Sid looked down at Conor and held out his hand."Need help getting up?"
Conor reached for it. “I’ll even be nice and not pull you into the lake. I’ll get the beers out of the fridge since I don’t know where those tubes are, and meet you back here. Do I need to get you more sunblock or you good?”
“I’m good, Shears, but maybe you should grab two of the beach towels by the guest linen closet? There should be one of those waterproof bluetooth speakers there, too.”
Conor grinned and whistled as he walked towards Sid’s house. He couldn't wait to see what the rest of the summer would bring.