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A few days into Geno living with him, and Sid has just about had it with him. Geno is a great guy, he really is. But Sid the bottom line is that Sid does not like it when someone is in his business all the time. Even if it is one of his very close friends.
Geno even checks on him when he tries to take a long shower. He never makes it past 20 minutes without Geno rapping his knuckles on the door and calling, “Sid okay?” And if Sid ignores him, then Geno just barges in to make sure he is alright.
The doctors insist that he isn’t fit for playing games, even though most of the time he feels fine. Ray Shero and Mario gave him some very stern looks and thinly veiled threats in order to get him to limit his ice time to practices. Sid grunts and growls and sulks but let’s himself be pushed into the press box for the Tuesday night game against the Islanders.
After the game he rushes down to see his team. The PR people have published that he is sidelined because of “Undisclosed lower body injury.” They almost printed that it was an upper body injury, but nearly everyone involved had protested because the last thing they need is concussion rumors going around. They had run enough tests on him to confirm that whatever it was, it was not a concussion.
Sid refused to tell the guys much at all. The only thing he was willing to say was at his third practice back, and he stood up before it started and cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“I know the media is saying a lot right now. I just want you guys to know, don’t believe anything you hear. They are all wrong.” Then he sat back down and went back to lacing up his skates.
Geno is sulky after the game. When they arrive home, Sid goes straight upstairs to Skype with Taylor, as he had promised her the night before.
When he goes back downstairs two hours later, he can’t find Geno anywhere. He tries calling his name a few times and wanders through the house hearing his own footsteps echoing. Finally he sees light flickering under the door in the den.
He hesitates, but knocks on the door lightly anyway. He hears a muffled noise from the other side and cracks the door open, peaking in.
“What are you doing?” He says with a crooked grin when he sees Geno. He is curled up on one of the theater seats with his knees bent and a blue fleece blanket pulled up to his chin. The lights are turned off, the only source of flickering light in the room being the TV playing a Russian movie. Sid edges into the room and slides into the seat next to Geno.
“Hey,” He mutters tapping the back of his hand against Geno’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Geno shrugs slightly and tightens his grip on the blanket. Sid can’t see Geno’s hands, but he can see the outline of them fisted in the blanket. He looks at the TV, picking up a word here and there that he recognizes.
A few minutes go by before he feels Geno’s eyes on him. He turns his head and Geno looks away quickly.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Sid says softly, swatting at Geno gently. Geno’s jaw tenses and he swallows before turning his gaze back to Sid.
“Don’t understand…” Geno mutters. Sid furrows his eyebrows and looks at Geno questioningly. Geno sighs and groans slightly. “Maybe it not my place. Just think, bond good thing. Should want to have bondmate with you. I would want to have bondmate around if I bonded…”
Sid turns away as Geno continues. “Sid, I know you know who it is. What could be so bad? Sid…” He emphasizes when Sid starts to get up. “Sid, who is it?”
Sid sighs heavily and leaves the room. As he wanders down the hall he stumbles, a pain taking over his lower half and a rhythmic pounding taking up residence inside his skull. He puts a hand on the wall to steady himself and rakes a hand through his hair.
“What the hell…” He mutters and tips his forehead against to wall. His entire body throbs with pain, he collapses in on himself and slides down the wall. He lets out a cut off grunt and presses the heels of his palms against his closed eyes, rubbing until he sees starts. It feels hard to breath, like his throat is closing up.
The light in the hall flicks on and Geno is on his knees beside Sid in an instant.
“Sid? Sid? Sid, what happening? Should I call doctor? I should call doctor.” Geno rambles nervously.
“No!” Sid gasped quickly, “Don’t call anyone. I just need to go to bed and I’ll be fine.”
Geno looks at Sid with wide, sad eyes and shakes his head. “Sid, not fine. This need to stop.”
Sid pushes himself to his feet and uses the wall to balance as he drags himself to the stairs. They seem like Mount Everest though, and he looks up them disdainfully. Geno loops his arm around Sid’s waist and glares at him mildly as he helps Sid up the staircase.
A few moments later and Geno pushes Sid onto the bed and sits next to him. He shifts around so that he is facing away from Sid. He is quiet for a long time, not acknowledging the little whimpers Sid makes.
“I don’t understand.” He whispers, ducking his head a little. Sid sighs and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as the pain suddenly stops. It all just seems to melt away, leaving pleasant, floaty, warm feelings in its wake. Geno turns to look at him and shakes his head at Sid’s glassy eyes.
“Sid, this not right. Not healthy. You need to find bondmate. Help him. Help you.” Geno stands up and rubs his hands on his thighs and stares at Sid for a moment before leaving. Sid waits until he hears the door click shut before quietly whining, “I know, I know, I know…”
~~~TicTok~~~~
Thursday afternoon, Sid realizes what day it is with a start. It’s the third Thursday of the month again. Geno looks at him funny when he notices that Sid has paused with a chip halfway to his mouth. Sid recovers quickly and puts the chip in his mouth and standing up from the couch.
The clock in the hall chimes 4pm as Sid wanders into the kitchen to put the bag of chips back. He frowns at the clock for a minute. He debates for an even longer minute. The bond has been blessedly quiet for the last 48 hours, with no significant influxes of pain or floaty feeling or anything at all really. It has been making him feel excessively tired, but he chooses that anyday over the mindnumbing pain.
Geno shuffles in and looks at Sid with his droopy puppy eyes, ever questioning. The thought of bonding to Geno flutters through Sid’s mind, but he chases it off with a bit of frustration. What’s done is done, and he is beginning to accept that. This bond isn’t going to go away. He is going to have to deal with it at some point.
“Uh,” Sid starts, faltering for what he wants to say. “I’m going out tonight. Do you mind spending the night at your place?”
A confused look washes across Geno’s face for a second, but he nods anyway. Sid nods as well and turns his back to Geno. He hears Geno huff and turn, his bare feet thumping on the hardwood floor.
By 6 o’clock, Sid is showered, dressed, and pacing nervously in the living room. Is this really something he wants to do? Does he really want to bring home the prostitute he bonded with? What is he going to do when he gets him here?
Something flickers through the bond, and he feels a slight tug. With a frustrated whine he grabs his keys out of the bowl on the table and stomps out the door.
He tries having the radio on in the truck, but it doesn’t do anything but make his head hurt. When he turns the radio off, the silence rings in his ears and makes him even more anxious.
He finally turns onto the one way street where Reid usually hangs out and slowly rolls down it. His brakes squeal a bit as he tries to look at each person’s face. He gets all the way to the end of the street and doesn’t see him.
With a scowl, he goes around the block and loops back down the street. This time, he spots a flash of faded green ducking between two buildings. He stomps on the brake and stares. After a few seconds Sid sees Reid peeking around the edge of the building down the alley.
Sid rolls his eyes and inches the truck forward. This time, Reid doesn’t run, just stands up straighter and wrings his hands together infront of his stomach. Sid puts the window down half way and stares at the boy who is half hiding behind some piled up boxes.
“I, …I’m off duty. I’m not working tonight.” He stammers, taking two steps forward then shuffling back again. Sid frowns.
“But it’s Thursday.” Reid swallows and scratches the side of his head. “Oh, uh, is it Thursday?” He drops his eyes to the ground for a moment, then looks back up, avoiding Sid’s eyes.
“We need to talk.” Sid says firmly, trying to sound reassuring at the same time. Reid’s eyes widen and he backs up further. “I’m not afraid of you. I don’t owe you anything.” He stammers, his voice shaking.
Sid furrows his eyebrows at that.
“Of course you don’t owe me. And you have no reason to be afraid of me. Can’t you tell that?” Reid takes a step closer and scratches the inside of his arm. Sid’s chest clenches when Reid approaches and he feels the waves of fear, anxiety and bone-deep achiness and exhaustion rolling off the boy.
Reid seems to melt as he gets closer to the truck, his body sagging as he undoubtedly picks up on their bond.
“See?” Sid asks gently. Reid nods hesitantly and comes right up to the window, his eyes slightly glassed over. “Get in, please.” Sid says, just above a whisper. The wind chooses to pick up just then and Sid inhales sharply when Reid’s hair is blown around, exposing dark purple bruises around his throat.
Reid goes around to the other side of the truck and climbs in, still looking at Sid with big eyes. Sid drives off, heading home.
When he pulls into the driveway, Sid freezes. Geno’s car is back. Sid just sits there for a minute, staring at the car and willing it to disappear. It doesn’t, of course. Sid shakes himself a little and forces himself to pull it together when he feels Reid’s anxiety rise again.
“Can you, can you wait here? Just for a minute?” Sid asks, parking the truck in front of the garage. Reid shrugs and looks out the window. Sid jogs to the front door, taking off one of his gloves to turn the knob.
“Geno?” He calls out. He hears music playing in the kitchen and follows the noise. Geno is lip syncing into a wooden spoon and does an elaborate spin, gasping and drooping the spoon when he sees Sid standing there smirking.
“Sid!” He gasps, picking the spoon up and turning the volume down on the radio. “Wasn’t expecting you, said you going out!”
Sid nods resolutely. “Yes. I did. Now I’m back. And you’re here.” He knows his voice sounds clipped and irritated, but crosses his arms anyway. Geno sputters for a moment.
“Is just. I. I don’t have any food at my house. Just going to eat and leave again, thought you wouldn’t be back for hours…” Geno trails off, picking at the handle of the spoon idly. “Don’t see the big deal, really…”
Sid sighs. “Geno, I’m not alone. I have someone with me. ” Geno stiffens at that and lifts his eyes to look at Sid with a steady but reserved stare. “Your bondmate?”
Sid glares but doesn’t say anything. Geno’s eyes shift over Sid’s shoulder looking at something behind him. Sid whirls around and gapes at Reid standing there, shivering in the hallway. He has his arms wrapped around himself and his skin looks extra pale.
“I’m sorry, it just really cold.” He murmurs, looking back and forth uncertainly between the two men in the kitchen.
Sid huffs and ushers Reid upstairs, glaring at Geno who is still frozen in place. Sid pushes Reid into the bedroom, feeling a wave of something akin to panic press through the bond.
“No, please I said I wasn’t working tonight! You heard me say that!” Reid pushes back against Sid’s chest weakly and tries to squirm around him.
The door clicks shut as Sid presses his heel against it. Reid’s bright eyes are wide and he rubs absently at the inside of his arm, watching Sid the whole time.
Shades of fear trickle through the bond and Sid sighs, covering his face with his hands and resisting the urge to comfort this bondmate. Reid’s eyes dart around the room as he searches for an escape route.
“It’s alright. I just need to talk to you. Nothing is going to happen tonight…” Sid trails off, looking up at Reid with tired eyes. He starts feeling itchy and a moment later Reid is itching at his own skin nervously. Sid eyes the movement cautiously, unsure of how to proceed.
“We just need to talk tonight.”