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Sid's 600th goal feels different than Zhenya's 500th, like night and day. He's thrilled when it happens. Sid roars in triumph, mouth too wide, and Zhenya slides into his side, right where he belongs. The guys all swarm Sid on the ice, Zhenya has to slip out before he's crushed, and he thinks they'll use the momentum to get the lead back. They don't. They can't bottle that feeling and it slips away between their blades, another tough loss in weeks of tough losses.
Maybe if Zhenya had been able to get Sid the pass, continue the magic from their 500 goals, the team would come together. But he didn't. He knows Sid would trade the milestone for a win any day, and it takes the joy out of it. The team lets him down, again.
It feels like shit. Zhenya knows how to weather a loss. He's accepted that the team isn't good right now, and that they need to chin up. It still feels like shit. He's scowling as he strips his gear, letting the feelings storm up inside him before he has to let it all go when he steps out of the room and takes his family home.
He watches Sid out of the corner of his eye. It feels like Sid doesn't have him on his radar at all. He poses for a photo with the puck without smiling and does a few minutes of media, guarded.
Zhenya slips into the showers and stews on their loss. There's a problem with their team, but no one really knows what it is. Well, there are a lot of different problems, but at the core of it, the team isn't clicking. And no one knows why. Everyone is looking at each other for the answers instead of stepping up, and it's mental, it really is. He's fucking pissed that they couldn't get it together tonight for Sid, and even more, pissed at himself. It's Sid and Kris and him who will have to right the ship and they haven't yet.
Zhenya wonders if it's his fault. Not just on the ice. He kissed Sid, and they haven't talked about it, and he doesn't know if things are weird between them or kind of fine or a disaster waiting to happen. Sid doesn't like change, to say the least. Gay kissing your best friend and A is a pretty big fucking change.
He exits the shower, haphazardly drying himself, and comes to a stop in front of Sid's spot in the change room. That's where it started, after his 500th, bullying Sid into his home and into a drink of vodka. Zhenya gets changed and then waits. Yeah, this will work. It's like a game of chicken. Just standing here, Sid will know that he's offering a repeat of last time. They could make this a milestone thing, just another superstition in a hundred weird quirks and rituals. Or Zhenya could play it off as saying one last congrats and they will go their separate ways. His heart has plausible deniability.
They couldn't, anyway, with both of their families in town. It's impossible. It wouldn't even be rejection, if Sid looked at Geno like he looked at any other man.
He's nearly talked himself out of this when Sid comes out of the showers and waddles over to him, face scrunching up, half question, half smile. "Hey, G." His features fall back into heaviness as he pulls out his game day suit and starts changing.
"Sid." Zhenya watches him pull on his underwear, and Sid's cheeks are a little pink, though he doesn't look back. Zhenya scans the room, fiddling with his phone in one hand. Most of the guys are already gone, just a few trickling through. "Just want to say, congrats."
"Thanks." Sid barely says it.
"You celebrate tonight?"
"Not really," Sid says flatly, pulling on his shirt and doing the button, carefully one by one. "Just saying hi to my folks."
Zhenya squirms a bit. Well, Sid isn't really giving him anything to work with, but that's fair, they both feel like shit tonight. It's fine. "You should thank me for 600," he proclaims. "Like half my assists."
Sid laughs at that, quiet but real. His eyes have a spark back in them when he glances at Zhenya, the corners creasing. "Yeah. Thanks, G."
Zhenya nods, smirks, leans in to clap his arm around Sid, shake him a little. "Good, Sid," he says quietly. "Leave at rink, okay? Will be here tomorrow."
Sid lets out a long breath, tilting his head towards Zhenya. "Yeah. Thanks, man."
_/ \_
Zhenya drives his Mama, Papa, and Nikita back home, the latter dead asleep in the back seat. He carries his son all the way to his bedroom, helps him brush his teeth while half-asleep, and tucks him into bed. "Stay until I fall asleep, Papa?" Nikusha asks.
"Of course, little fish," Zhenya says. He lies down next to him and rubs his back. His boy is asleep in two minutes, and he stays, greedy for time together. It might not be much longer that Nikusha will want to snuggle with his Papa, maybe a few years. His boy is growing up so fast.
He scrolls through his phone for a long while until the exhaustion starts to really hit. He nearly drops his phone on his face when it rings unexpectedly. Zhenya swings himself out of bed and slips outside of the room quietly before answering. "Sid?"
"Hey," Sid says over the line after a moment.
"What's up?" Zhenya pads downstairs, seeing if either of his parents are still up.
"Uh. I'm outside."
Zhenya looks around, startled, as if he might see Sid lurking in the corner. "Outside?" His parents aren't out and about, but there's a cup of lukewarm tea out for him from his mama.
"Outside. Your place."
"Just moment."
Zhenya hangs up on him and goes to the front door, a lot baffled, a little excited. Sid is on the other side of the door, changed down into sweats, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking unsure. "Hi. Sorry, I wasn't sure if anyone was up, so I didn't want to knock."
"Come in, in," Zhenya insists, waving him inside. "You okay? Is late, Sid, past your bedtime."
"Hah. Yeah, yeah." Sid stays close to the door when Zhenya closes it, looking around. "Your parents are staying here, yeah?"
Sid definitely already knows that. "Yes, they asleep."
Sid glances at him but doesn't meet his eyes. "You're still in your suit."
It's really just the slacks and shirt now. Normally he would be changed as soon as possible, but he doesn't know how to communicate that bedtime with Nikita trumped that; it doesn't seem that important, anyway. "You okay, Sid?"
Sid looks up at him finally, eyes wide and intense, like he's tracking a play on the ice. Instead of answering, he crowds Zhenya up against the door. All of a sudden, Sid's warm, bulky body is pressed against his, hands pressing his shoulders back, like he might try and get away. The heat fills him up, rushing to his toes and the tips of his fingers, and he goes soft, dipping his head down, watching Sid's mouth, like when he's trying to hear his Captain over the roar of the crowd. Sid doesn't say anything though. He brings their mouths together, kissing Zhenya hard.
He shivers hard and wraps his arms around Sid's back, pulling him in. His lips ache, pressed hard against teeth, and it feels like a dare, like Sid is squaring up, threatening to take him down. Zhenya's not going to fight him. He can feel where Sid is chubbed up already, anticipating this, and it gets Zhenya hot so fast he feels dizzy. He uses his height to get some distance between their mouths and lick over Sid's bottom lip, nudge his big mouth open, where Zhenya can taste inside.
It's different kissing a man, different even from his boyish fumblings, jerking his teammate off and sticking his tongue in his mouth to gross him out, laughing, daring him to pussy out. It feels distinctly masculine, the smell of Sid, the prickle of his absurd mustache, his big, thick body pressing tight against him. It's strange, forbidden, so fucking sexy. Zhenya moans against Sid's lips.
They kiss for a long time, holding each other close against the front door, like they don't know if there's another step they can take together or if this is it, this one moment. Zhenya is afraid to break the spell. And he loves kissing, could do this for hours, he and Sid learning how to move their mouths together, taking turns sucking on each other's tongues and biting each other's lips. It has Zhenya all the way hard against Sid's belly, Sid's own erection rubbing against his thigh. It's getting to the point where he's going to do something stupid, like try and take Sid to bed. The house is quiet except for the wet sound of their mouths and Zhenya's hums of pleasure; still, he can't risk his parents finding out about this.
Like he's reading Zhenya's thoughts, Sid finally breaks the kiss, resting his head against Zhenya's shoulder, turning his face into his neck. "Fuck..." Sid groans quietly, his hands finally releasing their death grip on Zhenya's shirt. He slips down to grab his waist, and then further, hands resting just above the curve of his ass. "What are we doing?"
"Kissing," Zhenya answers.
Sid chuckles, nuzzling into his neck. "I should go, eh?"
He probably should. He definitely should. "You leave me like this?" Zhenya squawks.
Sid kisses his neck, under his jaw. His hands slide down to grab Zhenya's ass, and he rolls their hips together, slow and hard. "Go jerk off in your bed," he whispers in Zhenya's ear.
His dick twitches, and he chokes back a whine.
Sid pulls back, but Zhenya grabs him, cups his face with one hand, looking at him carefully. "Sid," he says, gentle but serious. "I'm not wait hundred goals."
"That's not—that's not why I came," Sid says, licking his puffy lips. "Well, maybe a bit."
"Just come to tease me?" Zhenya asks, thumb catching the edge of Sid's mouth.
Sid looks like he might kiss him again. Instead, he says, "Seven."
"Seven?"
"Seven goals," Sid clarifies. "It's—you know, we have seven days between our birthdays, and, it's the number we share."
"I get seven more goals, you kiss me?"
"You only need four more," Sid says, smirking. He gives Zhenya's ass one last squeeze. "And we can do more than make out, eh?"
"You crazy, Sid," Zhenya complains, but he knew that, and kisses him anyway.
Sid slips out of the door, leaving Zhenya with a semi. He watches Sid's car pull out of the drive, feeling off-balance. It's not a bad feeling—it's leaning far out on his edge, reaching for an impossible shot, knowing that he knows how to fall on the ice, that falling is worth it, even a bad fall, if you tried as hard as you possibly could.