Work Text:
7 June 2018
When they said his name, he swears he felt a click in his head. It’s something other Conn Smythe Mamas (for some reason they insisted it was trademarked to Steve Yzerman, but he hadn’t been paying that much attention) have said they felt. Quick had likened it to a pot of water, just there under the surface, but an undercurrent of emotion inside his head, simmering, eventually getting stronger and stronger until it boiled over, only sated when he finally slept with Anze (it was a busy night, okay?!) and conceived their son Feliks.
Alex knew it was the curse.
And this year it came for him.
As the others skated around with the Cup, his eyes met Nicke’s. Nicke smiled at him, but he could see the sadness in his eyes, and Alex knew what it was about.
Around the time of game 3, he, Dima and Kuzy were visited by an official from Team Russia, who made things very clear to them: if they valued their right to call themselves Russian, should they be so ‘unlucky’ (as he put it) to get cursed by the Conn Smythe trophy to get pregnant, the other father must be a Russian.
The three of them had snuck each other glances as the official went on to say that as ‘humiliating’ (again, as he put it) it was for them to be put in this situation, they could at least make the best of it by doubling down on the Russian genes, and not polluting a potential future hockey player with foreigner genes. He ended by saying “you don’t want to end up like Evgeni Malkin, do you?”.
The cynic in Alex pointed out in his head that Geno seems to be doing well for himself. Two daughters and a son, marriage to the third greatest hockey player ever (after Gretzky and Alex himself, of course), now proud to call himself Canadian, and even scored the game winning goal for Canada in Sochi, much to Russia’s embarassment.
But he could understand Nicke’s sadness. It’s a big ask to give up a significant part of his identity just to have Nicke’s child, even if they were in love.
Alex shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was time to go celebrate right now.
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He stepped outside for air. Everyone was at the minimum tipsy, if not drunk. There will be hangovers tomorrow morning for sure. That undercurrent was starting to simmer in his head.
He felt a buzz on his hip and pulled out his phone to see that Geno had texted him.
Conn Smythe huh
Alex smiled. Still not bothering with punctuation, he sees.
Yeah.
Soon he got another text.
If you need to I can meet you at Washington and get a quickie in before your parade
Alex furrowed his brow.
What?
Then a barrage of texts came.
If you
Well
I know Russia talks to players in the finals
Cause of me
And if you need to have a Russian it might as well be me
Sid isn’t happy but he understands
Alex looked up a bit before replying.
Russia considers you a traitor and a Canadian now, Zhenya. Wouldn’t work.
And I….I can’t do that to Nicke. I love him.
It took a while for Geno to respond, picking and choosing his words carefully.
So youre going to through with it
Choose a nonRussian and lose your citizenship
Is Backstrom really worth that
Alex was angry for a second.
OF COURSE HE IS!
He swears he can feel Geno’s smile in the next text.
good
Sid will text you tomorrow
Theres a group text for all the Conn Smythe mamas so you get to join
Alex texted back, don’t you have to say ‘trademark Steve Yzerman?
Geno responded, thats only when we want to make Bettman mad
you two make beautiful baby for Ilya or Nadia to marry
Alex snorted at that.
we are NOT arranging a marriage between your kids and mine.
He got a hahahaha from Geno in response. Alex smiled and pocketed his phone.
He got up and went to find Nicke. When he saw him, he smiled and walked up to him, taking his head in his hands and planting a long kiss on him.
Nicke’s eyes widened.
“We’re getting married, consummating the marriage, then you’re going to help me become a Swedish citizen.”
“WOOO!” The peanut gallery (T.J. and Brooks) cheered.
Nicke blinked. “You choose me?” he whispered.
“Any day. I want your baby Nicke. Not some random Russian’s. I don’t care who knows, I love you.”
Nicke’s smile outshone Vegas’s lights any day. “Alex...”
They kissed again to the peanut gallery (now everyone) whooping it up.
“Must we marry right away?” Nicke said into Alex’s ear. “I’d rather do you first.”
And Alex felt that simmering turn into a boil He nodded and dragged Nicke away.
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A few hours later, Alex posted a new picture on his instagram.
He and Nicke, still in their uniforms, were in the picture. He was in front, eyes closed, Nicke behind him, kissing his cheek. The caption said ‘on my way to becoming Swedish!’.
Nicke’s hand was on Alex’s stomach.