Archive of Our Own

Zhenya lies back in bed with his head propped up on one folded arm. His legs are stretched out in front of him, one flat on the bed and the other bent at the knee, and looking down between them he can see Sid. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, frowning in concentration as he writes a text. They’re about to get under the covers, so he isn’t wearing a shirt. It’s a good view.

He pokes Sid in the ribs with his toes.

“Come to bed,” he says. “Waiting for you.”

“In a minute,” Sid says. “I just need to send this.”

He keeps typing. Zhenya can hear him doing it, because Sid’s phone is so old that it has buttons. In the many, many years since he bought it, smartphones had been invented. But Sid doesn’t see the point in new technology if the old technology still works. He sticks to his stupid flip phone like a loyal dog with a favourite mouldy bone, and doesn’t seem to mind that the whole team teases him for it.

Zhenya shakes his head and digs his toes into Sid’s side again, trying to hook them into the waistband of his shorts. Sid grabs his foot with one hand and holds it still.

“Stop that,” he says. “You’re distracting me.”

“You distract me,” Zhenya says.

“No I’m not,” Sid says. He still doesn’t look away from his phone and the steady tapping of his thumb over the buttons continues, but Zhenya can see the goofy smile spreading across his face. He grins, wiggling his toes against Sid’s fingers.

Finally, Sid snaps the phone shut and swings himself properly on to the bed. They worm their way under the covers together, and Zhenya immediately plasters himself up against Sid’s side. He feels every bit as good as he looks, all soft hair and warm, smooth skin. Their body heat starts to warms the sheets at once, and it’s instant bliss. Zhenya sighs happily and presses his nose against Sid’s temple.

“Text take so long,” he complains. “Have to press four times for ‘s’, so dumb.”

“Don’t start,” Sid says.

“Not even have camera,” Zhenya says, sliding a hand over Sid’s ribs and grinning when he squirms.

“What do you want a camera on a phone for?” Sid says, still wriggling.

Zhenya rolls on top of him, digging his elbows in when Sid barks a laugh and tries to struggle. They wrestle for a moment, until he manages to pin both of Sid’s arms above his head with one hand. With the other, he reaches for his phone.

“Camera great,” he says, gripping Sid’s writhing hips with his knees. “Stay still, I show.”

He opens his camera and aims it at Sid’s face. Sid yelps, and renews his thrashing.

“Stop it, you ruin,” Zhenya scolds, grinning mischievously.

He only manages to take three or four pictures before Sid gets loose, using his considerable bulk and muscle to roll them over and plant himself firmly on Zhenya’s belly, glaring. Zhenya doesn’t complain, not with Sid looking flushed and mussed and half-hard in his shorts, glaring down at him. He feels weightless despite having all two-hundred-odd pounds of Sid resting on top of him. Now that he has Sid’s full attention to himself, he would be quite happy to keep playing around like this, as though they have all the time in the world.

But, as ever, Sid seems determined to get down to business. He spreads himself over Zhenya’s body, resting his weight on his elbows, and starts rolling his hips to rub their dicks together. Zhenya groans and pulls him closer, burying his face against his neck.

At first, he enjoys lying there and letting Sid do the work. But it isn’t long before he starts feeling too urgent to stay still. He moves his hands to Sid’s back and sinks his fingers greedily into all the sleek musculature as it flexes, spurring him on. Sid grinds down harder, almost like punishment. Zhenya hears the ghost of a sharply drawn-in breath. He’s suddenly desperate to see Sid’s face again.

“Up,” he urges, pushing at Sid’s chest. “Please Sid, up.”

Sid moans unhappily but goes where Zhenya puts him, settling with his ass right over Zhenya’s dick. He tries to start rocking against him again straight away, but Zhenya won’t let him.

“Off,” he demands, tugging at Sid’s boxers.

They struggle out of their underwear, spiking each other repeatedly with knees and elbows but refusing to move any further apart.

“God, I want to come,” Sid hisses, settling back down onto Zhenya’s hips.

He starts grinding again with his hands braced on Zhenya’s chest for balance, rubbing his dick against Zhenya’s belly and his ass against his dick. His expression looks a lot like it does when he’s working out, jaw set and sweat putting a curl in his hair, except for the way it flickers as sex overwhelms him in a way working out never would. Zhenya stares up at him, one hand resting on his thigh, and reaches for his phone again without even thinking about it.

Again, he only manages a couple of pictures before Sid catches him. He comes to an abrupt halt, glaring down at Zhenya incredulously.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Zhenya says, dropping his phone on the mattress and cupping Sid’s hips.

From the look on Sid’s face, it’s clear that answer won’t fly. Zhenya changes tactics. He wraps his hand around Sid's dick and smooths his thumb over the wet head. Sid moans.

“Geno,” he says, voice tight.

“Shh,” says Zhenya. He slips his other hand round to Sid’s ass and grabs a handful, tugging questioningly. “Let me play?”

Sid clenches his jaw and his cheeks turn redder, but he nods.

Zhenya guides him back down onto his elbows and gets both hands on his ass, shifting until their dicks are lined up. He uses his hands to encourage Sid to start rocking again, then can’t resist digging his fingers into the muscles of his ass as they flex.

“Yeah, like that,” he says, breath coming short.

Sid bites his lip, brow twitching and drawing tight, and subtly changes his angle. Now he’s pressing himself back into Zhenya’s hands as well as thrusting forwards against his belly. Zhenya digs his fingers in harder, kneading, then spanks him hard enough to make his skin shiver. Sid’s expression immediately melts into floaty, unfocused bliss.

“Oh yeah,” he says, and arches his back for more.

Zhenya works him into a state again, kneading his ass roughly. He can feel Sid coiling up like a spring, hips snapping more tightly and toes curling against Zhenya’s calves. Then Zhenya spanks him again. He moans like it took him by surprise, and all the tension drains away again. The look on his face puts Zhenya’s heart in his throat. He uses one hand to keep playing with Sid’s ass sneaks the other back towards his phone, rubbing his hip against Sid’s dick for extra distraction.

This time, he manages five or six pictures before Sid notices. His slack, ecstatic expression vanishes instantly and he grabs both of Zhenya’s wrists, pinning them firmly to the bed. Zhenya doesn’t resist, just spreads his palms in surrender and grins sheepishly.

“Are you going to stop that now?” Sid asks.

“Of course,” says Zhenya, innocently.

Sid raises his eyebrows and pries the phone out of Zhenya’s hand. He leans over the edge of the bed and slides it across the floor, out of reach. Zhenya laughs breathlessly and strokes Sid’s hips, encouraging him to come back so that they can get going again. Sid comes, but turns the bedside lamp off as he does. It catches Zhenya by surprise. In the dark, he pouts.

“Sid,” he whines. “Phone gone, can’t take pictures. Put light back on.”

“Nope,” says Sid.

He settles himself back on top, pinning Zhenya’s wrists again, and starts to grind down hard. It’s still mostly dry, so they have to be careful or the friction will become something unpleasant. Fortunately, Sid has more than enough strength and control to be careful. It drives Zhenya mad. He moans. In the dark it sounds louder, embarrassing and thrilling at the same time. Sid just keeps going. Zhenya starts to squirm, until finally he can’t stand it anymore.

“Let go,” he begs, tugging his wrists.

“No,” Sid says. Zhenya can hear that his jaw is clenched. “You’ll turn the light on.”

“Won’t,” he promises, and thrusts coaxingly up against Sid’s body.

Sid whines through his nose and leans closer, pressing himself against Zhenya’s chest. It ruins his leverage, and the bucking of his hips becomes frantic. Zhenya wants to grab his ass, calm him down and lead him, and he could; Sid isn’t holding him down now, just holding him, so getting his hands free would be easy. Instead, he waits for permission, waits for Sid to ask.

“Love your dick,” he whispers, just because. The dark makes it easy to speak without much purpose. “Love your ass.”

“Want to spank me again?” Sid says, challengingly. Geno shivers.

“Yeah,” he says. “Touch you again. How you like.”

Sid whimpers and bucks against him harder. It really is beginning to chafe now, so Zhenya takes charge.

“Want lube,” he says. “Get your dick wet.”

“You’ll finger me,” Sid accuses, just like he’d said ‘you’ll turn the light on.’ Zhenya can feel his thighs beginning to shake.

“Just one,” he says. “Make you come harder. Maybe two.”

That does the trick. Sid stops bucking for long enough to straddle Zhenya’s hips properly, trying to kiss him at the same time.

“Get it,” he whispers. “Please.”

He waits patiently while Zhenya fumbles around for the lube in the drawer, resting their foreheads together. The pause makes them both realise how close they’d been getting to the finish line, and they help each other edge back from it by sharing ragged breaths and staying close through their shivers.

“Found it?” Sid asks.

Zhenya nods. He brings his hands behind Sid’s back so he has space to squirt lube into his palm and over his fingers, being over-generous. It’s cold, so he spreads it over his own dick first, warming it before he does Sid’s too. Sid starts moving again as soon as Zhenya takes his hand away. It’s as good as before and a thousand times better, slick and warm and easy. They both moan longingly, but then Zhenya catches Sid’s hip with his dry hand.

“Wait,” he says. “Bit more.”

Sid groans like he’s in pain, but stays still. Zhenya reaches behind him again and slides his whole hand between his ass cheeks, spreading lube everywhere, all the way down to his balls. He lingers for a moment, stroking the tips of two fingers against the skin there. It makes Sid shudder and laugh shakily.

“Now?” he says, hopefully.

“Light,” says Zhenya.

Sid grumbles quietly and reaches over to turn on the lamp. Dim light fills the room again. Zhenya feels dazed and hot. His eyes seem to have fogged up, and he has to blink to clear them so that he can stare up at Sid, greedy for the sight.

“Now?” Sid repeats, settling himself again.

Zhenya nods.

“Slow,” he says.

Sid begins to rock again. It gets more shockingly good every time, so good that Zhenya temporarily gets lost in the feeling and forgets that he has Sid’s ass to play with too.

“Geno,” Sid prompts, stretching the vowels out and kissing his cheek clumsily. Zhenya starts.

“Sorry, sorry” he whispers.

He fills his dry hand with as much of Sid’s ass as he can and strokes his fingers over Sid’s entrance. It unravels him immediately.

“Yes,” he moans, arching his back. “Please.”

“One first,” Zhenya tells him hoarsely.

It’s easy to work a finger inside because everything is so slick. It’s hot, tight and tender like always, and the noises it drags out of Sid make Zhenya feel shaky. He has to concentrate as Sid’s rhythm starts to pick up and it gets harder to move with him, but he manages. Before long, Sid is writhing again.

“Good?” Zhenya asks.

Sid doesn’t answer, just whines and speeds up.

“Two?” Zhenya presses, tugging his rim.

“Please,” Sid gasps.

“Okay,” Zhenya soothes. “Here.”

It’s easier to fuck him with two than it had been with one. Zhenya does, searching with his fingertips until he finds the spot where Sid is sweetest.

“Oh god,” Sid sobs.

He collapses on top of Zhenya and bucks his hips desperately.

Zhenya hisses, shifting them roughly so that Sid is rutting against his hip not his cock - better purchase. When Sid complains incoherently, Zhenya smacks his ass. “You first,” he snaps, digging into the flesh with his fingernails and then smacking it again. “Come on. Do it.”

“Geno,” Sid sobs, writhing. He looks clumsily for Zhenya’s mouth but keeps missing, and his frantic movements makes their heads knock.

Zhenya takes his hand off Sid’s ass just long enough to pull him down and seal their lips together, then puts it right back where it was and spanks him again, hard. Sid is so close that being smacked doesn’t undo the tension in his spine now, just winds him tighter. Zhenya does it again and again, losing a bit of control himself, until Sid shouts wordlessly and finally starts to come. He pulls his fingers out of Sid’s clenching ass and presses his thumb in instead, curling the fingers round to stroke behind Sid’s balls.

“Fuck,” Sid yells, rearing back. Zhenya grabs him and pulls down, working him through it until he collapses, completely spent and very heavy.

“Oh,” he sighs. “God, Geno.”

They lie still for a moment. Then Sid struggles upright and looks down into Zhenya’s face, reaching for his cock. He’s sweaty and red, eyes looking inky and blown. The sight makes Zhenya’s toes curl desperately.

“Like this?” Sid asks.

Zhenya nods, and starts fucking up into his fist as soon as Sid gets a proper hold on him.

Sid experiments a little, working his hand up and down and watching Zhenya’s reactions like a hawk. By itself, that’s enough to bring him close. And then he finds a pace that has him gritting his teeth and whining helplessly.

“There,” Sid whispers, mostly to himself.

He keeps going, steady as a clock, and leans down to kiss him again. It’s like kissing a different person from a couple of minutes ago, close-mouthed and sweet, and it sends Zhenya careening towards the edge. He grabs at Sid as though he actually is going to fall. Sid doesn’t break pace.

“Faster,” Zhenya begs. “Close.”

His whole body begins to curl around his dick like a drawn bow. He thrusts his hips up frantically, straining for the edge, and when he finally tips over and comes it drags a drawn-out groan from his throat that he doesn’t really hear.

Afterwards, he lies sprawled out across the bed, feeling like a constellation of himself. Vaguely, he wonders how both of his hands ended up clenched around Sid’s ass again. He lets go and strokes it apologetically. Sid stays curled carefully on top of him as they both get their breath back.

When he finally moves to get up, Zhenya frowns and tightens his arms.

“нет, еще не,” he says, grumpily.

Sid leans forward enough to kiss him again.

“I’m a mess,” he says. “Don’t want to get it on the sheets.”

Zhenya grumbles some more, but he lets Sid up, and with a tremendous effort pulls himself to his feet too. Sid smiles at him, which he takes as licence to drape himself over his shoulders.

“Alright?” Sid whispers.

“Mmph,” he replies.

When they get to the bathroom, Sid heads straight for the shower and turns it on. Zhenya rubs his drooping eyes and wishes for the softness and warmth of the bed. It feel as if the noise of the water, the whirring of the fan, and the brightness of the light against the bathroom’s reflective surfaces are all attacking him.

Sid looks at him gently.

“You can just wipe down and go to bed if you want,” he suggests.

“No,” Zhenya grumbles. Bed is tempting; the idea of lying there alone while Sid cleans himself up in the bathroom is not.

Fortunately, Zhenya’s shower is more than big enough for two hockey players. The warm water is soothing, and before long Zhenya stops feeling like the bathroom is picking on him. He and Sid share the spray companionably, brushing against each other as they clean up.

Zhenya peeks, too. Despite being so broad, Sid manages to look neat and sleek when he’s wet, like an otter. His skin, which is genuinely beautiful, looks even better flushed pink and gleaming. It makes Zhenya want to touch him again. He thinks about offering to help clean him up as an excuse, but in his usual efficient way Sid has already taken care of that.

They climb out of the shower and dry themselves off, then head back through to the bedroom and search for their boxers in the tangle of sheets on the bed. Zhenya finds his first. As he’s pulling them on, his eye is caught by his phone lying on the floor, and he suddenly remembers the pictures he took. His heart lurches in excitement. He wonders how he ever managed to forget, and his fingers itch to unlock the phone and look at them immediately.

The only problem is that Sid is right there, already climbing into bed. Zhenya tries to be subtle, using his back to block Sid’s view as he bends down and picks up his phone, but when he turns around he finds Sid watching him, looking drowsy but unimpressed.

“You’d better delete those,” he says, darkly.

Zhenya makes a non-committal noise and keeps his back turned to Sid as he climbs into his half of the bed. It’s stupid to look at them now, because Sid is still right there and sure to catch him, but he’s too impatient to wait.

He opens the pictures and scrolls through them, heart racing. Most of them didn’t really work, blurry or taken from funny angles, but a couple came out perfectly. He managed to catch Sid’s expression looking tight and desperate in one and slack and blissful in the other. Both of them are gorgeous. A hushed inner voice reminds Zhenya that Sid looked like that for him, and he decides then and there that there’s no way he’s deleting them.

At that moment, Sid speaks again.

“Are they gone?” he asks.

Zhenya hurriedly selects the all photos that didn’t work and deletes them.

“Okay, okay, done,” he says, turning of the bedside lamp. “‘Night, Sid.”

Behind him, Sid wriggles closer.

“Let me see,” he demands.

“I do it!” Zhenya says, curling himself more tightly around his phone. “Why you not believe?”

Instead of answering, Sid pounces, rolling on top of him and grabbing for his phone.

“No!” Zhenya exclaims, struggling furiously. Sid fights dirty, digging his elbows into his ribs.

“Let me see!” he says again.

“No! Sid!”

Sid rolls away, clutching Zhenya’s phone triumphantly.

“I knew it!” he says, unlocking the screen.

“Sid, no, don’t delete, don’t delete!” Zhenya begs. He grabs for his phone they start wrestling again, both determined to win but laughing helplessly at each other too.

“You’re the worst liar,” Sid tells him, thrashing like a seal. He manages to throw one arm out of Zhenya’s reach and fends him off with the other.

“No!” Zhenya shouts, stretching desperately, but it’s too late. Sid selects the pictures he’d kept and deletes them both. “Sid!” he cries, outraged, and smacks him hard on the ass. “Why you do that? You not even look!”

“Of course I didn’t look,” Sid scoffs. He gasps and laughs as Zhenya clambers fully on top of him, pressing him face-first into the mattress, and bites his shoulder. “Ow, Geno!”

“I’m so mad,” Zhenya grumbles. “Never trust you again.”

“You’re mad?” Sid protests, but he suddenly sounds distracted.

Zhenya lifts his head and realises that Sid is looking at a picture he took a while ago of the Sixth Street Bridge at at sunset. All its lights are on, pointing it out against the ruddy sky behind. It was a beautiful view, and it made a good photo.

“Where did you take this?” Sid asks.

Zhenya settles more comfortably on top of him and reaches out to turn his phone on its side, making the picture bigger.

“Rooftop bar,” he says. “Max take me.”

“It’s really nice,” Sid says, earnestly. Zhenya is pleased.

“I have lots,” he says, and starts flicking through all the pictures he’s taken of Pittsburgh over the years. He does it all the time, but only keeps the best ones. Some of them catch Sid’s eye, and he asks about them, and Zhenya finds himself talking about days he’d nearly forgotten.

After a while, Sid starts to get uncomfortable being laid on. They roll over onto their backs and he curls close to Zhenya’s side, resting his head on his shoulder. They lie in the glow of Zhenya’s screen and speak softly to each other in the dark. It’s peaceful, and before long they both begin to get drowsy. Zhenya puts his phone down on the bedside table and they settle together under the covers, ready for sleep.

“Didn’t know you took so many photos,” Sid says, slurring his words sleepily.

Zhenya brushes a kiss to his temple.

“I want send you, sometimes,” he says, eyes falling shut. “But phone too old. Can’t.”

“Hm,” Sid mumbles.

He shifts slightly closer, tucking his head neatly under Zhenya’s chin, and then doesn’t move again. It doesn’t take Zhenya long to join him in sleep.

*****

Sid wakes Zhenya up as he’s leaving the next morning to remind him that they have practice later. Zhenya grumbles at him and rolls onto his front, burying his face in his pillow and settling down to doze for as long as he can get away with.

The familiar cycle of practices, planes, and games rolls on, sweeping them both along. They see each other all the time for hockey, though really that time is spent with the team, not just each other. Away from the rink, they both have their own friends and families to keep up with, different errands to run and hobbies to pass their time. Any time they spend together, privately, has to be fitted in between all of that.

With so much to keep him busy, Zhenya has no reason to think about what happened that night until a couple of weeks later, when he arrives at Sid’s house and finds him sitting in his kitchen with a shiny new iPhone.

“New phone?” he exclaims, genuinely surprised.

Sid shrugs.

“Figured maybe it was time for an upgrade,” he says. He holds it out so that Zhenya can see the screen. “Look, I have a camera now.”

Zhenya raises his eyebrows and smiles.

“You use it?” he teases.

Sid shrugs again.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” he says. “Nice to have the option, I guess. It was nice looking at all your photos that time.”

Zhenya blinks. He had half-forgotten. If the new iPhone was any indication, Sid clearly hadn’t. It’s a very uncharacteristic change, and Zhenya wonders if the ten minutes they spent curled up together flicking through his photo album could be really be the sole reason for it. The idea is rather touching.

They spend the rest of the evening playing with Sid’s new phone. He gets quite excited when he realises just how many apps he has to choose from and how many things they’ll let him do. Zhenya recommends the best games, then tries to convince him to get an Instagram. It doesn’t quite work.

“Don’t think I’m going to take that many pictures,” says Sid, wrinkling his nose. “And I wouldn’t want just anybody to be able to see them. Not like you,” he teases.

Zhenya shrugs.

“Don’t put all on Instagram,” he says. “Only some.”

“I’m in some of them, right?” Sid asks.

“Of course,” Zhenya says, smiling. “Get Instagram, Sid, then I be on yours too. We do selfies.”

“Selfies?” Sid snorts. “No way.”

It’s as good as a challenge. Zhenya grins and slings an arm around his shoulders, gripping firmly when Sid tries to wriggle free.

“Just one,” he says. “First with new phone, should be you and me, yes?”

Abruptly, Sid stops struggling. It takes Zhenya by surprise and makes him let go, looking at Sid in concern. He seems startled.

“Oh,” he says. “Well- yeah. I guess. Is that important?”

Now that Sid is asking, looking terribly earnest, Zhenya suddenly feels like it might be important after all. It’s disconcerting, because the only reason he’d said it in the first place was to tease. He shrugs to avoid answering, feeling off-balance.

“Want to do anyway?” he says, smiling nervously. “Practice new camera.”

“Okay,” Sid says.

They shift in their chairs so they’re sitting closer together. Zhenya puts his arm around Sid’s shoulders again, but now that they’re being serious it feels tense and awkward.

“So, um, like this?” Sid asks, holding his phone at arm’s length and pointing it at them.

“Yeah, but-” Zhenya reaches out and taps the button to switch to the front camera. Their faces appear on the screen.

“Oh, right,” Sid says, laughing sheepishly.

He angles the camera, trying to fit both of them in.

“We’re sitting down, how are you still so tall?” he mutters, frowning. “I can’t get the top of your head in. Here.”

He makes them swap, pulling Zhenya’s arm off his shoulders and wrapping his own over Zhenya’s instead. It evens out their height difference a little. It also feels nice. Zhenya finds himself leaning into it.

“That’s better,” says Sid. “Okay. Ready?”

He takes the picture, and then they both bend their heads together over the phone to look at it. Zhenya is reminded of that night again, lying curled up in bed together. It makes him conscious of being close to Sid in a way he doesn’t feel so often these days, and he swallows.

Sid opens the picture.

“Hey, that’s not bad,” he says.

Zhenya agrees. They both look a bit awkward, but in not in a bad way. He looks a bit squashed, slumping to fit under Sid’s arm, but he’s still smiling, and Sid is sort of smiling, except that his mouth is tight with concentration as he tries to get the angle right.

“Is good,” he says. “Good first selfie.”

He nudges Sid’s shoulder.

“Send to me?” he asks.

“Okay,” says Sid. “How do I do that?”

Zhenya shows him. The message arrives on his phone a second later. He opens it and looks at the picture again.

“I keep this one,” he says, firmly.

Sid doesn’t reply. Zhenya glances up and finds him staring at him with an odd, hopeful sort of smile. He looks away as soon as Zhenya catches his eye.

“Me too,” is all he says.

*****

Sid doesn’t get trigger happy with his new camera by any stretch of the imagination (certainly not when it comes to selfies), but every now and then Zhenya will catch him holding his phone up and squinting at the screen, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he lines the picture up just so.

It soon becomes clear that he has two favourite subjects: his teammate’s children, and water. He takes endless photographs of Pittsburgh’s many rivers and bridges,s at all times of day and in all weathers. It becomes fairly common for him to arrive in the locker room in the morning brandishing his phone excitedly, eager to show everyone a shot that he’s particularly proud of.

At first, the guys all look and nod obediently, not wanting to discourage Sid from his new, non-hockey hobby. But rivers are rather old news for anyone who’s lived in Pittsburgh for any length of time, and it doesn’t take long for the chirping to begin.

“You know I live, like, ten minutes away from it, right?” says Duper, as Sid shows him yet another picture of the Allegheny river. “It’s a great picture, but you’re showing a polar bear the ice here.”

In spite of the chirping, Sid isn’t put off. He does take to concentrating his efforts on Suttsy, who likes to fish and is nearly as interested in water as Sid, and Paulie, who seems oddly charmed and never teases him. Nealsy, who teases him all the time, gets jealous of Sid for making Paulie think he’s sweet, and Paulie for getting special attention from Sid.

“Why is he so crazy about bridges all of a sudden?” he asks Zhenya, shaking his head. “There are a million of them here. So I guess my real question is why he keeps showing me pictures of something I drove over this morning.”

“He not show you today,” Zhenya points out, innocently. Nealsy grimaces forlornly, making a total hypocrite of himself, and Zhenya rolls his eyes at him fondly.

It’s surprisingly rare for Sid to show one of his pictures to Zhenya himself. It bothered him at first, but he soon realised that Sid was just especially picky about which pictures were good enough for him to see. In the course of that one night, the source of the whole business, he had apparently convinced himself that Zhenya was some sort of artist. It’s totally untrue, but it’s sweet, and it makes Zhenya preen.

As more of the season passes and they keep finding time for each other in the small gaps between everything else, Zhenya is surprised at how much of a difference it makes to finally be able to send Sid pictures. It’s how he communicates with a lot of his friends, especially the English-speaking ones, because although his language is far better than it was he still gets nervous about it sometimes - and other times, he just can’t be bothered. Now that he has the same option with Sid, Zhenya ends up messaging him far more than he did before. It gets to the point where they touch base with each other almost every day, even when there’s no hockey and they don’t stay over. It’s different from how things have always been before, but it comes so easily that Zhenya barely notices.

*****

One evening, Zhenya finds himself stuck at home, feeling bored but not in the mood to go out. He’s hungry too, but there isn't much food in the house. He decides to be lazy and order in.

While he’s deciding what kind of food he wants, it occurs to him that if he orders Chinese he should be able to tempt Sid into coming over. That way he can have food, company, and probably sex too. The evening’s prospects suddenly seem a whole lot better.

He orders enough Chinese for two and has a quick shower while he waits for it to arrive.. When it does, Zhenya takes it through to the living room and stacks all the little white cartons on his coffee table. He props his feet up in the middle of them takes a picture on hit phone, which he sends to Sid along with a string of smiley faces and a question mark. Then he settles back onto the couch and turns the TV, waiting.

It doesn’t take long for Sid to reply.

Can’t, sorry. Having dinner with some people from Reebok tonight

Zhenya’s heart sinks, but a second later he gets another message: Can I come over later?

yes. when? he replies.

Don’t know, sorry. Don’t want to stay out long though.

Zhenya grins.

boring? )))))))) he says.

Probably. Text you later? Sid sends back.

okay, he replies, and puts his phone back into his pocket.

It leaves him with a lot of Chinese food to eat, though some of it he only ordered for Sid and doesn’t actually want himself, and an indefinite amount of time to kill. He flicks to the Rangers-Preds game, then on impulse gets up to fetch himself a couple of beers from the kitchen.

The game has a lot of good defence but not many thrills. By the second intermission Zhenya has eaten his food and finished both of his beers, and only one goal has been scored: the Rangers have it. It’s not much of a distraction, and he keeps thinking about Sid. He starts to feel impatient, checking his phone every few minutes even though he knows there’s nothing to see, and eventually he’s had enough of waiting and decides to send another message himself.

hurry up, he says. Then there’s nothing to do but go back to watching boring commercials. He does, twitching his foot restlessly.

To his surprise, Sid replies just before the puck drops for the third.

I wish. Might be able to leave in 30

Zhenya raises his eyebrows.

very boring? he asks.

There’s another pause before Sid’s next message, which just says: yes

Zhenya laughs. He imagines Sid sitting at a table in a smart restaurant somewhere, trying to keep a straight face and be polite as he slowly goes out of his mind and checking his phone under the table whenever he thinks he can get away with it. They’ve been in those situations together before. Zhenya always entertains himself by trying to find a way to make him Sid his composure, and even at a distance the impulse to do the same is strong. A wicked idea pops into his head.

Without stopping to think about it much, which might be something to do with the beer, Zhenya sticks his hand down the front of his pants and cups his dick. Then opens the camera on his phone and takes a picture.

should have come here, more fun ))), he says, and sends it to Sid.

He knows Sid won’t reply straight away, so he settles down to watch the rest of the game. The Rangers scored again, so now they’re up by two and Lundqvist is sitting on a shut out. He doesn’t get it in the end - Henrique scores with just over three minutes to go - but the Rangers still win.

Zhenya gets up to put his uneaten Chinese food in the fridge, pours himself a glass of water, then comes back to the living room and flicks restlessly through the channels.

When nearly three quarters of an hour have passed and Sid still hasn’t replied, he starts to feel anxious. He wishes he’d thought more carefully about what he was doing before he sent the picture, worrying that he’s crossed a line - though that seems strange, considering everything else they do together. When a reply finally comes he grabs for his phone at once, nerves making his heart beat faster as he opens the message.

I’m on my way now. Your nuts. I can’t believe you did that, it says. Another one arrives straight away that says, I meant you’re.

Relief does more work on Zhenya than the beer did. He relaxes at once, and then thinks about Sid opening the picture at a table full of people and turning bright red, guiltily shoving his phone back in his pocket and trying to smooth the shock off his face. It makes him laugh, but he can feel his cheeks going red too. He imagines Sid getting hard in his uncomfortable suit pants, drawing his chair closer to the table to hide it and desperately trying not to squirm, and starts getting hard himself.

He would bet money that Sid has never even thought about sending a dick pic, but now he wonders if he’s ever been sent one before either. His gut feeling is ‘no’, but really he has no idea. They’ve never really talked about their pasts in that way. He doesn’t even know for sure that Sid has been with a guy before, though based on the sex he must have been. But he doesn’t know when, or how many, or how serious.

That never bothered him before, and it still doesn’t bother him, but he clings to the idea that his gut feeling is right and this is new to Sid. Somewhere along the way, this stopped being about messing with Sid at a fancy dinner. He isn’t even sure if it’s about sex anymore, though now that he’s thought about Sid getting turned on by the picture he wants that to be true too. He stares unseeingly at the TV, struggling to make sense of his thoughts and acutely aware that waiting has suddenly become unbearable.

When he finally sees Sid’s headlights coming down the driveway, he turns off the TV and gets up at once. His dick is still half hard. In his sweatpants, that’s pretty obvious, which makes him feel both sheepish and defiant.

As he opens the front door, Sid is just coming up the steps, taking them two at a time. He stops right in front of Zhenya, slightly out of breath.

“Coming in?” Zhenya asks after a pause, raising his eyebrows.

Sid nods, and follows him into the hallway. Zhenya shuts the door after them, and turns round to find Sid staring at him again. Now that he’s inside where there’s light, it’s possible to see the incredulous expression on his face. A childish glee overcomes Zhenya in spite of his nervousness, and he has to swallow his grin.

“Hey,” he says, leaning back against the wall.

“Geno,” says Sid. “What the hell?”

“What?” he asks, innocently.

“What kind of picture was that to send?” Sid asks, voice going high-pitched and twangy.

Zhenya shrugs.

“You bored,” he says. “I help.”

“That wasn’t helpful at all,” Sid says. “I was with people.”

He sounds scandalised. It’s delightful, and Zhenya loses the battle against his grin, ducking his head to try and hide it. Sid makes an exasperated noise, then pulls him down for a rough kiss.

Zhenya laughs against his lips, then lets his eyes fall closed and sinks gratefully into the familiar feeling of his hot, wet mouth, the way their muffled breathing sounds and the way their tongues slide together. He runs his hands over Sid’s back and along his sides, enjoying the way his suit bunches awkwardly around the thick muscles underneath.

Having Sid here, pressing Zhenya against the wall of his own front hallway, makes him feel more settled than he has all evening. Sid, on the other hand, seems badly worked up. He keeps tangling and untangling his fingers in Zhenya’s t-shirt as they kiss, then pulls away abruptly to tear himself out of his suit jacket. Instead of hanging it up, he just drops it on the floor. Sid doesn’t like smart clothes but he’s always very careful with them, the way he’s most polite to the reporters he likes least. Zhenya raises his eyebrows.

“Hurry?” he asks, smiling.

Sid pins him to the wall again.

“I was in the middle of dinner,” he says, glaring balefully. “You can’t just do that.”

Zhenya grins, smug, and wraps Sid up in his arms again, leaning down to press open, generous kisses against his mouth. They turn hungry almost at once. His dick brushes against Sid’s belly, and the long wait for him to arrive catches up with him all at once. Suddenly, just kissing is enough to put him on edge. He moans and is about to start moving them towards the stairs, but Sid beats him to it, towing him along with a firm grip on his elbow.

He starts taking off his shirt as soon as they get to Zhenya’s bedroom. Zhenya watches, caught by how neat and precise the movements of Sid’s fingers are even in a moment like this. Sid puts up with it for a moment, then frowns at him like he’s slacking off.

“You too, come on,” he says.

Zhenya tugs his t-shirt over his head, then reaches out to help Sid with his last few buttons. As soon as the shirt is on the floor, Sid pulls him down into another kiss.

They topple down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, bare chests pressed together, and kiss until they’re sweaty and squirming to get out of their pants. When Sid eventually breaks away it makes a loud, wet noise, satisfying and dirty. He nudges Zhenya insistently, making him roll onto his back, and reaches down to cup his dick through his sweatpants. It feels so good that Zhenya takes a moment to notice that Sid has gone quiet. He raises his eyebrows enquiringly. Sid presses his lips together, hesitating before he speaks.

“How were you not embarrassed?” he finally asks. “Sending that picture. How did that not embarrass you?”

Zhenya shrugs.

“You see before,” he says, running his fingers gently through Sid’s hair. “See my dick all the time.”

“Yeah, but, actually taking a picture of it,” Sid begins, then trails off. His face is very red. “That time you took pictures of me,” he says, starting again. “There’s no way I was letting you keep those.”

“Why not?” says Zhenya. He lets his hand roam down Sid’s back, tracing his shoulders. “Look so good,” he says, quietly. “Sad you delete.”

“But they were just- there’s no way they were that great,” Sid says, eyeing him suspiciously. “I probably looked like an idiot.”

“No,” says Zhenya. “Beautiful.”

Sid stares up at him, wide-eyed and still flushed, lips red from kissing, emphatically proving Zhenya’s point.

“I though you were just messing with me,” he says, voice sounding crackly again. “I didn’t know you actually wanted to keep them.”

“Of course I want,” Zhenya tells him seriously, then smiles to diffuse the heavy moment. He pokes Sid’s shoulder. “Rude,” he says. “Delete my pictures.”

Sid’s expression turns inward for a moment. When he meets Zhenya’s eyes again his face is still bright red, but he looks determined too.

“Well, I guess I owe you,” he says. “I mean, I got a picture of you this evening. So.”

Something in Zhenya’s chest lurches, like his whole body is changing gear.

“Let me?” he whispers.

Sid nods, but seems to have had enough talking. He leans down for another kiss and Zhenya responds wholeheartedly. He feels humbled, full of the desire to give Sid what he wants too. At the same time his mind is racing, filling his head with suggestions of all the things he could do now that he has permission.

After a moment it gets overwhelming and he has to pull back, framing and reframing Sid’s face with his restless hands. He knows exactly what he wants now, as though Sid’s permission had turned a light on inside his head.

“Jerk off for me?” he asks, heart pounding. “Let me watch?”

He runs his hand down Sid’s chest, imagining it covered in trails of Sid’s own come, and has to take a deep breath before he meets his eyes again.

Sid looks like he’s about to explode, or hurl himself out of the window.

“Oh,” is all he says. “I. Thought you’d want the same as last time.”

Zhenya remembers Sid straddling him, grinding down with precision and control that only someone with his exceptional lower-body strength could ever manage. He takes a deep breath, and his dick throbs. If they do that again, he’s going to last less than five minutes. And now that the idea has occurred to him, the only thing he wants is to see Sid get himself off, able to look all he wants because Sid let him.

Instead of trying to put it all into words, he just cups his hands around Sid’s waist and says: “please?”

Sid takes a deep breath of his own.

“Okay. You’re going to be close though, right?” he says. “I don’t think I can do it if you’re, I don’t know. All the way on the other side of the bed or something.”

“Close,” Zhenya agrees, stroking Sid’s hips reassuringly. A little slyly, he adds: “best for seeing.”

Sid reacts as though he barely heard him. He nods firmly, more to himself than Zhenya, and abruptly starts unbuckling his belt.

“Ready?” Zhenya asks, taken aback.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Sid says. It doesn’t sound convincing, but then Sid wriggles out his pants and shorts together and palms his dick as though it’s hurting him. “Don’t think I can wait,” he says, with a small crack in his voice.

It reassures Zhenya that Sid really is into this, not just going through the motions because he asked. But it still feels as though things have begun to roll forwards very fast. Sure enough, as Sid kneels on the bed and waits for Zhenya to decide what happens next, he starts to look nervous again.

“Can you be naked too?” he suddenly asks. “I think I’d feel better.”

Zhenya stands up and pulls his pants off at once. On instinct, he climbs on top of Sid for another kiss, bearing him gently down to the bed. Their kisses quickly become deep and open, an effective distraction for both of them.

When Zhenya eventually resurfaces and pulls back, he looks down into Sid’s face and tries to tell how he’s feeling. It’s promising, to say the least. His eyes are completely blown and his mouth is hanging open, wet and dark pink. A flush spreads all the way from his cheeks down to his chest. Sweat is beginning to gather on the skin all over his body, putting a curl in his hair. Zhenya stares at him stupidly, and thinks that if they can make this work it’s going to be the best idea he’s ever had.

“Okay?” he asks.

Sid nods. It looks much more convincing than before.

“How do you want me?” he says.

Zhenya sits upright on his heels and lifts Sid’s legs over his shoulders.

“Like this,” he says.

“Okay,” says Sid.

It feels like they really are ready to start this time, but then Zhenya realises that he’s forgotten something.

“Need camera,” he says, sheepishly.

Sid smiles and curls his legs to his chest so that Zhenya can move.

“Might be useful,” he agrees, and waits patiently while Zhenya leans over the edge of the bed and manages to fish his phone out of his pants. He has a thought and gets the lube out of the drawer as well, handing it to Sid and hooking his legs back over his shoulders.

“Thanks,” Sid says, but he’s looking at the phone. Actually seeing it seems to have made him nervous again. Zhenya puts it down straight away.

“Get started first,” he suggests, and cups Sid’s knees, stroking the sensitive skin behind them with his thumbs. Anticipation makes his heart beat in his ears. Sid nods, and squirts some lube into his hand.

When he finally closes his fist around his dick, Zhenya bites the inside of his lip. He watching raptly, doing nothing that might disturb him or put him off.

“Like this?” Sid asks, hand moving steadily.

“Yeah,” he says thickly. “How you like when you, by yourself.”

“Don’t usually have someone watching,” Sid says, dryly.

Zhenya doesn’t reply. He watches the way Sid’s balls bounce a little as he moves, the gleam of lube on his hands and dick, the way muscles flex in his arm and flutter in his belly. When he looks up into Sid’s face, he finds his eyes screwed shut.

“Look so good,” he whispers. “Keep going.”

He slides one hand encouragingly up and down Sid’s thigh and reaches for his phone with the other.

When Sid realises what he’s doing it makes him moan and squeeze his eyes shut harder. His hand speeds up for a moment, tugging desperately, and then he suddenly stops and cups himself protectively.

“Don’t take any pictures of my,” he blurts out. “I can’t- that feels too weird.”

Zhenya presses a kiss to his knee.

“No,” he says. “Promise.”

“Is that okay?” Sid asks, sounding agitated. “Or did I just ruin it?”

Zhenya shakes his head and strokes Sid’s thigh again.

“Just your face,” he says. “Is what I have last time.”

“Really?” Sid asks.

He sounds incredulous, and he hasn’t started moving his hand again. Zhenya reaches down and pinches his nipple.

“Ask why, or jerk off?” he says.

One touch does a lot. Sid makes a longing noise, eyes falling closed, and starts stroking himself again. It makes Zhenya feel hot all over. He pulls his hand back, raking his nails down Sid’s ribs as he goes to make Sid squirm.

“God, Geno,” he moans.

“Yeah,” Zhenya says, breathlessly. “You can do it.”

Sid moans again. It finally looks like he’s lost in what he’s doing, pulling on his dick with a purpose. A familiar stream of quiet noises begin to leak through his clenched teeth. Zhenya waits for a moment, then opens the camera on his phone, moving slowly and carefully so that Sid doesn’t notice and get put off again.

Watching Sid through a lens catches him in a way he wasn’t expecting. His eyes are closed and there’s a small wrinkle between his brows. It makes him seems as vulnerable as if he was asleep, and Zhenya’s heart pounds.

“Look beautiful,” he says, then immediately worries Sid will spook. Sid cracks his eyes open briefly, enough to see Zhenya holding his phone, but then he shuts them again and doesn’t stop. Zhenya strokes a hand down his thigh gratefully, then turns his attention towards the image of Sid on his screen. It looks just as good as the real thing. Heart still pounding, he takes a picture, then another, then another.

“Okay?” he asks after a minute.

“Mm-hm,” Sid nods, jaw set.

His hips begin to flex, heels digging into Zhenya’s shoulders. Zhenya looks down and sees that Sid is fucking his fist, both hands wrapped around his dick now. The head pops through at the end of every thrust. It’s a gorgeous dark pink, the same colour as his lips, and it’s wet. At any other time, the sight would have Zhenya pinning Sid’s hips to the bed and sucking him off.

“Fuck,” he says, voice coming harshly. His fingers dig hard into Sid’s knee. He’s forgotten to be worried about putting him off.

Sid opens his eyes again. They’re beginning to lose focus in a way Zhenya knows means he’s getting closer. He holds the gaze and blindly takes another picture.

“Feel good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sid replies, panting.

“What else you do?” he says, pressing for more. “What else you like?”

Sid grits his teeth and curls his hips up further so that he can reach down behind his balls. He runs his fingers roughly over the skin there. It makes him gasp and squeeze Zhenya’s shoulders tightly with his legs.

Zhenya feels a rush of triumph because he knew that, knew Sid liked being touched there, and did it for him all the time. He must make a noise, because Sid looks up and meets his eyes again. Suddenly full of confidence, he holds his phone right over Sid’s face, angling it just how he wants. The screen shows Sid watching him, lying there and letting him. It makes him feel so hot he’s almost dizzy.

“Look so good,” he says, throat dry from his own heavy breathing. “Perfect.”

Sid moans helplessly and closes his eyes. He starts jerk himself off harder, shoulder flexing powerfully.

“Close?” Zhenya asks. He knows the answer, but he wants Sid to open his eyes again. It works, but this time he looks straight into the camera. Zhenya suddenly feels like he’s the one facing a lens, and for a moment he freezes, barely breathing. He manages to collect himself and take the picture just in time, before Sid’s eyes slide shut again and he moans, working himself even harder.

All of a sudden, Zhenya is done, unable to keep himself separate from what Sid is doing for a second longer. He drops his phone on the bed and leans forward, looking right down into Sid’s face, so he can watch him push himself the rest of the way to the edge, all because Zhenya asked him to. His heart feels three times too large for his chest. He settles his hands on Sid’s thighs.

“Look beautiful,” he says. “Almost there.”

“Geno,” Sid cries. His voice sounds high and tight.

“Yeah,” Zhenya says. “Come on.”

He slides one hand under Sid’s body and grabs his ass. The position they’re in doesn’t let him spank him or he would, suddenly determined for him to come right now. It still makes Sid moan and thrash. Zhenya is in danger of being kneed in the head, but he doesn’t care.

“Come on,” he says, tightening his fingers. “Do it for me.”

“Oh fuck,” Sid says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His hips snap up one more time and he comes, shouting his heart out. Zhenya clutches at him, trying to watch everything at once, barely able to believe what it all looks like, or the way Sid sounds, or how he feels.

Finally, Sid takes his hand away from his dick and collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving. Zhenya doesn’t feel like he can move. It feels like he’s finally short-circuited, or crawled into a space too narrow to get out of.

Sid sits up, still looking dazed and uncoordinated.

“Geno,” he says, as though he’s just remembered, and clumsily rearranges them so that he can shoulder his way between Zhenya’s spread legs. “Don’t take a picture of this,” he says, looking up once, and then lowers his head and slides his mouth down Zhenya’s dick.

Dizzily, Zhenya remembers that he’s been hard since before Sid arrived, and in all that time something has touched his dick maybe three or four times. The feeling of Sid’s mouth almost too intense. He tangles numb fingers in Sid’s hair, probably too tightly.

“Sid,” he gasps. “Sid. Please.”

Sid takes a hold of Zhenya’s hips and swallows more of him down.

“Fuck!” Zhenya shouts, grabbing at Sid’s hair with his other hand too. His whole body curls over Sid’s head in his lap like a canopy, and then Sid seals his mouth tightly around Zhenya’s dick and drags his lips all the way up the length, until he can tongue at the head. That’s enough. Zhenya comes, feeling like it was ripped from the depths of him.

He drops flat on his back, panting. It takes him a moment to realise he’s still clutching Sid’s hair, and he lets go, petting him apologetically. Sid crawls up his body and settles carefully by his side, resting his head on Zhenya’s chest and waiting with him as his breathing gradually settles and he starts to feel in control of his limbs again.

Sid is usually calm and content after he comes, but as Zhenya regains awareness he realises that today, in contrast, he seems restelss. It’s like he wants to fidget and is suppressing it. Zhenya strokes his back weakly.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” says Sid. He brushes a kiss to Zhenya’s chest. “Good.”

“Want shower?” say Zhenya, grimly bracing himself for the effort of getting upright.

“In a minute,” says Sid. “No rush.”

Zhenya relaxes again, relieved. Sid still seems wound up about something, but Zhenya decides to take a leaf out of his book and wait.

“Okay,” says Sid a moment later. He sits up abruptly and reaches down the bed for something, then drops Zhenya’s phone on his chest. “I’m going to get in the shower,” he says. “You…see if it worked, then come through, alright?”

He’s looking flustered again, and escapes into the bathroom before Zhenya can say anything.

“Of course it worked,” Zhenya mutters to himself in Russian, but he unlocks his phone to look anyway. It gives him the same sense of Christmas-morning excitement as last time.

It really did work. The pictures are better than last time because he didn’t have to try and hide what he was doing. There are a lot more than Zhenya thought, which is excellent even though it’s slightly embarrassing. It looks like his thumb was on autopilot for stretches of time, tapping the button over and over again while the rest of his was distracted. So now he has something like a time-lapse record of Sid’s face as he jerks off. He looks absolutely gorgeous. Zhenya’s heart starts to race again. He puts his phone down again and goes in search of the real thing.

Sid is standing in the middle of the shower, looking pensive. He’s already clean, efficient as ever, and the suds are draining away in the shower tray. Zhenya climbs in and wraps around him like a vine, which is becoming as much of a habit as the brief shower they always take after sex. Sid never minds, more than solid enough to bear the weight. But today, he leans into it too, tucking his head under Zhenya’s chin like a bird hiding its head under its wing. It makes Zhenya feel about twenty feet tall, as proud and determined as stepping into home ice in front of eighteen thousand fans even though it’s just the two of them.

Eventually, Sid pulls away.

“So?” he says, peering up at him. “Did they work?”

“Yes, yes,” says Zhenya, rolling his eyes and pinching Sid’s side. “You want to check?” he teases. “Make sure your face look good?”

“Nope,” says Sid, firmly. He wrinkles his nose. Zhenya would have expected him to be at least a little curious - he certainly would have been himself - but Sid really does look like there’s nothing he’d rather do less.

“Is okay?” Zhenya asks, heart sinking. “Not keep, if you don’t want.”

“No, it’s okay,” says Sid. “You can keep them. I still don’t get why you- but whatever.” He shrugs, then fixes Zhenya with a stern look. “Just be careful, okay? Nobody’s ever had pictures of me like that before. I don’t mind you seeing them, but.” He trails off, looking grossed out.

“Of course I’m careful,” says Zhenya, simply. He means it truly with every part of himself, down to his bones. There’s barely any room left for him to feel smug that he was right about Sid not having done this before.

“Not want to see?” he asks, idly. “Sure?”

Sid wrinkles his nose again and shakes his head.

“Look good,” Zhenya says. Sid’s ears are definitely turning pink. He hides his grin in the crown of Sid’s head. “So good.”

“I’m not looking,” Sid tells him, flatly. “You can drop that one right now.”

Zhenya subsides, but he’s already thinking of lying in bed with Sid in the dark, going through the new and massively improved collection of pictures on his phone, leaning closer and whispering “this my favourite, look,” right into Sid’s ear. A thrill passes through him, only a little guilty. It’s a campaign for another day, he decides, and lets Sid herd him out of the shower so they can head to bed.

*****

A couple of days later, Zhenya is sitting in his stall after practice, pulling his socks on, when Nealsy comes over and sits next to him.

“Hey,” he says. “How’s the godkid?”

Zhenya breaks out into a helpless smile.

“Good,” he says. “Smile lots, very cute.”

Nealsy nudges him.

“Come on, show me a picture,” he says. “I know you’ve got some.”

Zhenya waves him off.

“You not like pictures, don’t understand babies,” he says, dismissively.

He glances over at Sid, and is pleased to see him smiling down at his shoelaces, clearly listening in.

“Oh come on,” says Nealsy, nudging him.

“Okay,” sighs Zhenya, and pulls his phone out.

He finds the pictures he took yesterday of the little one in his new Penguin romper suit (a gift from Zhenya himself, of course), and hands the phone to Nealsy so he can finish putting on his socks and shoes.

“That is pretty cute,” Nealsy says, scrolling through the pictures. Then he suddenly stops. “Holy shit!” he exclaims.

From the corner of his eye, Zhenya sees Sid freeze.

“What?” he says, frowning at Nealsy.

“It’s a bridge!” says Nealsy. “Hey, Sid,” he says, leaning around Zhenya to talk to him. “Did you know there were bridges in Pittsburgh?”

Zhenya watches Sid slowly unfreeze, and fix Nealsy with a look of utterly demoralising politeness.

“Yes,” he says, and turns back to his shoes.

Nealsy looks crushed. Zhenya snorts and bumps his shoulder.

“Ha,” he says, smugly.

“Shut up,” Nealsy sighs.

Zhenya catches up with Sid as they’re heading for their cars.

“Hey,” he says, grinning down at him. Sid smiles wryly back.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry I freaked out back there, I just-“

“Is fine,” Zhenya says, interrupting him. Sid looks taken aback.

“No, really,” he says, “I didn’t mean to act like I don’t trust you, I just-“

“I know you trust,” Zhenya says, shrugging nonchalantly. “Let me take. Let me keep.”

Sid still looks disconcerted, like he’s absolutely convinced there’s a discussion they need to have and Zhenya isn’t co-operating.

“I take off my phone,” Zhenya says. “Keep on computer instead. More safe.”

“Right,” Sid says, picking up his thread again. “There, I should have known you’d do something like that, and-“

“Not mad, Sid,” Zhenya says. “I like show you.”

“Show me what?” Sid says, looking openly bewildered now.

They’ve reached Sid’s car, so Zhenya stops walking and turns to face him head-on. He’s feeling fierce and proud again, feeling all the emotions of open ice before him and eighteen thousand fans behind him just from standing face-to-face with one man, who isn’t even that big. Perhaps it should scare him, but it doesn’t. He’s always known that Sid was special, and he is: he’s the best, no matter what, and he makes Zhenya better. With that in mind, he doesn’t see the need for fear.

“Show you can trust me,’ says Zhenya, simply. “Show you I’m careful.”

Sid stares up at him, and Zhenya meets his eyes steadily, watching Sid turn a familiar shade of red until he finally looks away.

“The weirdest things are a big deal, with you,” he says, shaking his head.

“Is okay, though,” says Zhenya, confidently.

“Right,” says Sid. His voice sounds thick, and he clears his throat before finally meeting Zhenya’s eyes again. “Coming over tonight?” he asks, casually.

“Yes,” Zhenya, happily. “Food? You make omelette?”

“It’s not breakfast time,” Sid says, wrinkling his nose.

“Omelette,” Zhenya insists. “Favourite.”

“Well, alright,” says Sid. “I think I’ve got enough stuff.”

He turns towards his car.

“See you at home?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Zhenya says.

He waves Sid into his car. If he were feeling truly sappy, he might stand and watch him drive off. Instead, he gets out of the way and heads for his own car, more than happy to follow him home.