Chapter Text
The fourth heat of the summer between Sidney’s rookie and sophomore season is worse than the third. It hits right around the time Sidney is preparing to go back to Pittsburgh for training camp. When it first begins he figures that it’ll be over before his flight to Pittsburgh, but that ends up not being the case at all. It lasts a full week, and Sidney pushes his flight back as much as possible until he has no choice but to drag himself onto a plane sweaty, teary, and achy. He wears sunglasses from the moment he leaves his house in Nova Scotia to when he’s taking his shoes off inside the Lemieux family’s home. He’s had a migraine for what must be the last four days.
All Sidney really wants to do is take some of his heavy duty pain medication, crawl into bed, and sleep for three years. Being pulled from his nest in the midst of a heat that was already not going well has knocked him completely off kilter. He’s just about to go through with his plan, too, until someone says his name, followed by footsteps growing closer. Sidney kind of wants to curl into a ball at the thought of carrying on a conversation with someone right now, but he turns and does his best to drag a neutral expression onto his face nonetheless. It’s Mario, who looks happy to see him until he gets a good look at Sidney.
“Alright, Sid?” the man asks. He goes to clap the young player on the shoulder but is completely deterred by the withering look Sidney sends his way when he reaches out his hand. Mario’s arm drops back to his side.
“I’m all good,” Sidney says, even though his brain feels like it’s folding itself up like an origami crane. “Why?”
“Well you look like death, Sid,” Mario deadpans.
“Well, I’m fine,” Sid snips back, immediately regretting it.
Mario stares for a moment as if trying to figure out whether he should continue prodding.
“Alright, then,” Mario says finally, deciding to move on rather than keep pressing. “Well, I have some interesting news about our Russian runaway.”
That sparks Sidney’s interest. It’s been hard to ignore the flurry of news surrounding Evgeni Malkin. He disappeared from Helsinki and nobody had heard from him until he’d reappeared in Los Angeles. Malkin’s KHL team was angry but the guy didn’t seem to be planning to rush back to Russia anytime soon. Sidney had been looking forward to play with him last season and was disappointed when it hadn’t worked out. The guy is a phenom.
“What is it?” Sidney says, trying not to seem too excited. Mario seems amused now, though, so Sidney doesn’t think he did a very good job.
“Well, he’s on his way to Pittsburgh right now and I’ve invited him for dinner tonight.”
“He’s coming to Pittsburgh?” Sidney says. “Like…for real, or just to visit?”
Mario smile grows even wider.
“Well, we’re hoping he stays. It’s going to be difficult with his Metallurg contract, but we’re going to do as much as we can so he can play here,” Mario replies.
Sidney is momentarily stunned. He’s seen footage of Malkin play and had imagined himself on a line with him, imagined the kind of plays that they could cook up. He’s never even met the guy so there’s no real way of knowing if they’ll even like each other, let alone have chemistry on the ice. Sidney just has a feeling, though, one that makes no sense but is there nonetheless. Sidney is convinced that they could be amazing. After Malkin resigned with Metallurg rather than coming to Pittsburgh, Sidney had forced himself to let go of that dream. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up right now, but he almost can’t help it.
“That’s…awesome,” is all Sidney can think to say. He wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, the action suddenly reminding him that he’s still in heat and he feels like shit. The news of even the possibility of Malkin joining the Penguins had been enough to cause a momentary lapse in symptoms, but it all crashes back down onto him. His stomach turns. He schools his face as best as he can. “When, um, when is dinner going to be?”
Mario is looking at him strangely again. Sidney hopes he doesn’t look as green as he feels.
“Around seven. He’ll probably be here a little earlier, though,” Mario replies. “I’m also inviting Gonch. Malkin doesn’t know very much English so it’ll be good to have Gonch to help him out.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Sidney agrees, nodding as he looks around for his bag that he doesn’t remember dropping, “okay, so, I’ll be down at six thirty then?”
Mario looks a little surprised at Sidney’s words, and Sidney gets it. Sidney stayed downstairs and talked with Mario and the kids until the sun had gone down when he’d first gotten to the Lemieux house at the start of last season. He was just so excited to be in Mario Lemieux’s house, talking to Mario Lemieux and his family. Sidney always wants to see the kids after they come back from a road trip, no matter how tired he is.
“I just gotta unpack and I’m kinda, ya know, tired and all. So, yeah. I’ll be down later.” Mario nods and thankfully doesn’t ask any more questions.
Sidney heads up to the house’s attic, which is basically its own apartment on what is essentially the third floor of the home. He puts his bags in his bedroom and sits on his bed, trying to convince himself to get up and take a shower. He can’t smell bad when he meets Malkin. That’d be a terrible first impression. He’s spent the last week or so sweating profusely and could barely get out of bed to get to the airport on time, let alone drag himself into the shower. The heat luckily seems to be winding down. The crying had thankfully stopped halfway through the intensely awkward taxi ride to the airport. He can tell he still has a fever because of the shivering and the sweating, but the emotional aspect finally seems to be wearing off, which is a huge relief. It always takes just about all of Sidney’s willpower to act normal and not dissolve into a puddle of tears when his heats hit, especially when he’s around the team or his family, and he just doesn’t think he’d be able to swing it after the week he’s had. If he could have it his way he’d do nothing but sleep for the next three days, but there are dinners to eat and new players to meet and workouts to be had. He’s just going to have to suck it up.
Sidney eventually negotiates with himself enough to take a shower, going through the motions with sluggish movements. He flops into his bed when he’s done. His eyes barely manage to reopen as he sets an alarm that will leave just enough time to get up, put on some decent clothes, and make himself presentable before Malkin gets here. He thinks for a moment before setting four more alarms a few minutes apart. The kind of tired he’s feeling right now is the type that completely knocks people on their ass, and he’s not sure if he’s going to hear the first alarm.
It turns out that Sidney was right to worry about not waking up from his coma-like nap. When his eyes finally blink open, its 6:50 and someone is knocking on his bedroom door.
“Yo, c’mon Sid, that Russian guy is here!” Alexa, one of the Lemieux kids, says, opening the bedroom door and practically shouting.
Sidney sits up, vision blurry and eyes fighting to immediately slide back shut.
“Wha-?” he huffs, confused.
“Malkin!” Alexa exclaims. “He just pulled into the driveway!”
Sidney is still confused for another moment before the words register in his sleep addled brain. Then he’s jumping out of bed, shoving Alexa out of his room so he can get dressed and do something to his hair and face so he doesn’t look like the complete mess that he currently feels like right now. His heat thankfully seems to have broken while he was asleep.
He joins Mario downstairs. He can hear Nathalie talking to Stephanie in the kitchen, pots and plates banging and clanging. Austin is setting the table in the dining room and doing so without complaining for once. It seems that Sidney isn’t the only one interested in Malkin’s arrival.
The doorbell rings before Sidney has taken the time to mentally prepare. Mario goes to get the door and Sidney follows, lurking behind the man. Mario opens the door to reveal Gonch standing beside none other than the Russian player. Gonch is smiling and Malkin’s face is completely neutral. Malkin cracks a smile when Mario introduces himself and shakes his hand, Gonch translating in rapid fire Russian as Mario speaks.
Malkin’s eyes eventually drift behind Mario and he notices Sidney. Their eyes meet and Sidney feels a strange charge zip up his spine. Sidney’s nostrils flare as he suddenly gets a whiff of the Russian’s scent. Sidney has met alphas that smell good before, sure, but all of them combined have nothing on this one. Some kind of metal, fresh ice, a faint bit of rubber, and a cozy warm cinnamon. To most other omegas it would probably be insufferably gross, but Sidney hasn’t seemed to conform to expected omega norms since the second he initially presented, so it’s not much of a surprise. Malkin smells like hockey and home. What could be a better combination?
It’s a little terrifying. Sidney’s never had the nearly irresistible urge to bare his neck to a single alpha in his life, no matter how good they smell. He’s having this big urge to shove Mario and Gonch out of the way so he can push his nose into Malkin’s neck right now, though, and it’s catching Sidney completely off guard. He’s never reacted to an alpha so strongly before.
They stare at each other for a few more moments before Gonch says something that pulls away Malkin’s focus, their gazes dropping. Sidney’s face burns bright red at the look Gonch not so subtly sends him. He ducks into the kitchen to see if Nathalie needs any help with anything before he embarrasses himself any further.
Dinner is interesting to say the least. Sidney is strangely restless the entire time, shifting around in his chair and shaking his leg. He’s sitting across the table and a little to the left of Malkin, and his eyes keep wandering over in that direction all on their own. Malkin is kind of busy trying to keep up with the conversation Mario and Nathalie have dragged him into, waiting for Gonch’s translation before replying through Gonch. He doesn’t seem to know many English words, but he tries, replying to some things that have been translated to him with simple “yes,” “no,” or “thank you”s. It shouldn’t endear Sidney but it does, which makes him want to kick himself.
There’s no way this could ever work out. Sidney went into the NHL having made the decision that he won’t be looking for a relationship with an alpha, let alone getting into one with a teammate, while he’s still playing. He can’t even imagine the shitshow that would occur if he and a teammate were to get together. The backlash in the media would be bad, sure, but he’d never live it down on the ice. It’s bad enough now with all the chirping material that comes with the territory of simply being an omega. Being bonded to an alpha would only worsen it, let alone if the alpha were a teammate. Sidney’s dad has always made it clear that nobody will ever take him seriously if he does things that draws attention to him being an omega. The only thing that really distinguishes Sidney from a beta in the eyes of his team is the heat leaves he takes, and even then he is incredibly tight lipped and private about them. There’s omega urges he gets that he just doesn’t allow himself to express. Sometimes a hug after a loss is all he really wants, but instead he goes out with the guys and drinks or rolls himself into a nice blanket cocoon when he gets home or back to the hotel the team is staying at. He can’t shatter the illusion he’s successfully formed and maintained for so long just because an alpha smells good.
Gonch has apparently offered to let Malkin live with him for as long as he wants, and Sidney is glad. He remembers struggling to learn French and understand people in Rimouski. English especially is a beast of a language with all its grammar rules and exceptions. Being around people who don’t speak your native language is incredibly stressful, especially in situations like Malkin’s where he’s experiencing a big life change. America is a huge culture shock for people coming from just about anywhere the world. Sidney’s glad that Malkin will have someone to be able to talk to and be comfortable around. It’s going to be exhausting spending all day struggling to communicate with pretty much everyone around him and having a break from that will be nice.
Everyone splits up somehow after dinner is over. Sidney walks into the living room to find Malkin sitting there on the couch by himself, and Sidney just can’t help himself. He goes over and sits beside him and offers a smile. Malkin smiles back.
“Hi,” Sidney says, dumbly.
“Hi,” Malkin replies.
“I’m Sidney,” Sidney says. “Or, Sid.”
“Sid,” Malkin echoes, nodding seriously.
“You’re ev—yev…Evgeni?” Sidney stammers. Malkin smiles. He understands enough to be amused, it seems, his eyes glittering with it.
“Evgeni,” he agrees, but he pronounces it smoothly and differently than Sidney did. “Geno.”
“Geno?”
“It’s easier for all you Americans to say,” Gonch says from behind them, stepping into the living room. He looks kind of smug. “So, Geno.”
“Da,” Geno agrees.
“Oh, okay, well, that’s good to know,” Sidney says.
Gonch says something in Russian and Geno nods, getting to his feet.
“We’re gonna head out, it’s been a lot of travel for the young Russian cub over here,” Gonch explains.
“Bye Sid,” Malkin says, smiling a little as he makes full on eye contact with Sidney.
Sidney smiles shyly back.
“Bye, Geno,” Sidney replies. Gonch eyes him for a moment longer before the pair leave the room.
Sidney stays on the couch and tries to think through how the night went. He was expecting to like Malkin, but he wasn’t expecting to be attracted to him like this. Sidney is always at some level, be it consciously or subconsciously, worried that a new alpha he’s about to meet is going to be an asshole to him, especially if they play hockey. There’s always the possibility of a new player having a problem with Sidney being the NHL, but luckily Sidney has yet to encounter one, at least one who expresses it outwardly. Russian alphas aren’t exactly known for being particularly warm and fuzzy. Malkin seemed friendly, though, and as warm as his scent would lead you to believe he is. It’s going to be hard to get a gauge on his personality until he knows a little more English, but Sidney has the feeling that they’re going to get along great. Maybe even too great.
“So,” Mario says, joining him in the living room a little while later. “What do you think?”
“About Malkin?” Sidney replies.
“Yeah. How’s he seem?”
“He seems nice.”
Mario eyes him, unimpressed.
“That’s it?”
“I think we’ll play well together,” Sidney confesses. “I’ve always thought we would.”
“Always?” Mario says.
Sidney tries not to blush.
“Just a feeling,” Sidney says quietly. “We’ll see for sure when we get on the ice.”
“Yes we will,” Mario agrees, looking at him with an expression Sidney can’t quite place.
Sidney excuses himself back to the attic not soon after. He’s getting a little tired of Gonch and Mario eyeing him like they know something he doesn’t.