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Published:
2014-01-02
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who is that on your lap?

Summary:

But Sid’s not injured now, so there’s no real reason for him to be stupidly jealous of the way Geno’s sprawled across Kadar’s shoulders while he supervises practice, right? He knows Geno’s been frustrated and annoyed at himself for how long this injury’s kept him off the ice (really, they all saw this particular transformation coming), but he just doesn’t understand why Geno’s clinging to Kadar (and Nealer) and hasn’t even tried to come over to Sid’s end of the bench.

Notes:

Because I randomly chose the wrong team to bet on in the Winter Classic.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It’s not the first time this has happened. Everyone knows that Sid spent the first two weeks of Geno’s knee injury with the purring cat-shaped version of his teammate curled up on his lap or staring at him judgmentally every time he tried to turn on the TV or pull out his PSP. Then Geno was gone, off to surgery and then to Russia and Sid never got the chance to tell him how much he (really really liked) appreciated the company.

But Sid’s not injured now, so there’s no real reason for him to be stupidly jealous of the way Geno’s sprawled across Kadar’s shoulders while he supervises practice, right? He knows Geno’s been frustrated and annoyed at himself for how long this injury’s kept him off the ice, (really, they all saw this particular transformation coming) and he gets it -- it’s not like he doesn’t know the feeling -- but he just doesn’t understand why Geno’s clinging to Kadar (and Nealer) and hasn’t even tried to come over to Sid on the bench.

He’s not pouting, okay. He’s not.

It’s just. The rest of the guys are grumpy and exhausted because Kadar’s been particularly tough on them lately, and yeah, sure, they all know it’s because they’ve got a ridiculous number of games coming up in a really short amount of time, but they’re human and tired and it’s easy to resent cat!Geno curled up in Kadar’s arms while he yells them through their drills. Sid’s not frustrated, really. Mostly he’s just kind of...okay, fine, he’s jealous.

Geno joins them in the locker room for the first time after the game against Calgary, wandering around the room letting guys pet him or mess with his fur. He likes being touched when he’s like this, constantly rubbing up against them, chasing after skate laces or improvised cat toys Heinze likes to scatter around for him. Nealer and Olli are down on the floor with Geno dragging the tape they pulled off their pads across the ground, trying to make him chase it. He’s obviously fucking with them, more focused on pawing at Nealer’s hair and smacking Olli in the face with his tail.

They’re all so easy with him and Sid just isn’t. He can’t not think of the cat in front of him as Geno, can’t separate petting the cat’s soft brown fur from his daydreams of running his fingers through Geno’s hair, so he over-thinks his every move and tries to ignore the sad brown eyes staring at him from on top of Nealer’s head.

Geno’s still a cat during practice in Ottawa, playing with Flower on one end of the ice, batting pucks into the net then chasing them back out. He’s funny to watch on the slick surface, letting himself slip and slide across the ice in front of the goal, then digging his claws in when he wants to turn. Kadar fetches Geno and sets him on his shoulder when Bales finally starts to give Flower very meaningful looks that practically spell out “This is not what I meant by practice,” and Geno spends the rest of practice alternately sleeping and nuzzling Kadar’s ear to make him smile (resulting in Olli and the WBS boys looking vaguely terrified at this strange and rare expression).

Geno should be skating on two legs soon, so Sid’s kind of running out of time to get his act together. After the game tomorrow, he promises himself.


Of course, then everything falls apart. The game’s a mess, Sid’s a mess, and God, Duper’s knee... Sid follows Duper off the ice into the locker room, lost and scared and feeling so, so guilty. He’s not hurt but there’s no way he’s fit to play until he’s had a second to just stop shaking. Medics and trainers swarm Duper, carrying him into the trainer’s room. Geno’s hunched into a tight ball on Duper’s bench staring with wide eyes and Sid just can’t not go over and collapse next to him. Geno inches closer and Sid just gives in and picks him up, holding him tight to his chest and totally not crying into his fur. Geno curls into him, letting Sid shake himself apart and put himself back together again, then nudges the side of his face with a wet little nose.

“Yeah, I know. Time to go back out there,” Sid mumbles, face still buried in Geno’s furry side. He takes a deep breath, puts Geno down, and puts his armor back on. Geno follows him to the door rubbing his leg as he steps out. He knows it’s his imagination, but he’s sure he can feel the slight warmth through his pads. He’s going to finish this game.

It’s not exactly a tour-de-force, and they definitely don’t win, but he’s proud of his team for finishing that fucking game. They’re quiet in the locker room, after. Geno makes a sad, but oddly comforting circuit of the room, rubbing or nudging all of them in turn. When he gets to Sid, Sid pulls away instinctively, suddenly feeling too embarrassed about how he’d fallen apart on Geno to act like nothing happened. Geno ends up curled on Nealer’s shoulder, the side of his face braced against Nealer’s neck, staring down at Sid sadly, like he’s waiting for him make it all better.

That night, after Dan’s attempt at a reassuring speech and Sid’s attempt at the same directed at Flower, he knocks on James’s hotel room door. Geno’s been staying with Kadar while he’s furry, but he’d pretty thoroughly attached himself to Nealer’s neck when everyone left, so Sid’s fairly sure he’s in the right place.

Nealer looks vaguely curious and incredibly exhausted when he opens the door, hair slumping sadly into his face. He gives Sid an attempt at a smile and lets him in.

“G’s been acting like I made him sit through an hour of those awful ASPCA commercials since we got back, and he only ever acts like that when you two are having...issues. So. Yeah. I’m gonna go hang with Juice for awhile. Good luck, man,” he says, shoving Sid into the room and pulling the door shut behind him.

Sid gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, waiting, until Geno finally uncurls enough to look up at him from his little nest on the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” Sid says, reaching out and stroking his fingers softly through the fur on Geno’s side. “I just. You know me. I freaked out and tonight really fucking sucked and you were the only thing that helped and I can’t…” he stops himself, choking up a little and so tempted to just spill everything, every thought he’s had about Geno in human form, every daydream he’s had about waking up next to him in the morning and falling asleep with him at night. He pulls himself fully onto the bed, lying on his side with his head on the pillow next to Geno’s, close enough to keep petting him.

After a few minutes of oddly comfortable silence, Geno gets up and curls himself into Sid’s chest, purring quietly. The night’s events crash in on Sid and he gives up on making it back to his room, mentally apologizing to Nealer for stealing his bed. He wraps an arm around Geno’s furry back and lets himself fall asleep.

Sid wakes up slowly the next morning, bright sunlight heating up his back from open curtains. The front of him, though, is warmer than it should be, pressed up against a body that sheds heat like a space heater. There are long human arms wrapped around Sid’s waist and soft hair -- not fur -- brushing his chin. He opens his eyes and pulls back far enough to see a fully human (and fully naked) Geno wrapped around him like an octopus, head pushed into Sid’s neck just like the feline version used to do when he was concussed.

Geno sleeps like a log, he knows, deeply enough that a small part of Sid whispers that he could probably pull away and sneak out without Geno noticing. The rest of Sid, though, has finally had enough of running away and has decided that they’re going to have this thing out, here and now, while Geno can do more than just meow or growl at him in response.

He pushes Geno’s shoulder gently. “Hey, wake up,” he whispers. Then says it louder, shoving harder at his shoulder. Geno makes a grumpy noise and pushes his head harder into Sid’s neck for a second, then pulls back with wide, sleepy eyes.

“Sid. Not cat,” he says, sleep roughened voice and the slightly thicker accent he always has when he changes back.

“No, not cat. We, uh. We need to talk, okay? But maybe you should get dressed first?” Sid’s been very carefully not looking down, but he definitely felt Geno wake up.

Geno bites his lip, then carefully pulls himself out of Sid’s arms, only to plop right down on top of him, chin digging into Sid’s chest.

“I think I leave to get clothes, Sid run again. So Sid stay, I stay, we talk?” Geno’s grinning up at him, but there’s something fragile in his eyes, like he’s still worried Sid will pull away from him again and that’s just. No.

Sid takes a deep breath, feeling Geno’s chin dig into his collarbone, then reaches down and pulls Geno up until their faces are even. Geno braces himself above Sid, staring down into his eyes and then suddenly smiles -- that big stupid grin that only ever shows up when he’s too happy to care who’s watching. Sid pushes up into him and kisses him cautiously, then grins into Geno’s mouth when it’s fully and aggressively reciprocated. When they finally come up for air, Geno’s mouth is swollen and red and Sid can’t not reach out and run his fingers against Geno’s lips, wet and sloppy and he did that. Finally.

“Nealer gave you some of his fish last night, didn’t he,” Sid says. Geno lets his head thump back down onto Sid’s chest with a huff.

“Was cat, Sid. So whiny,” Geno mumbles.

“Last night sucked so much and I. I’ve missed you,” Sid says, quietly, because part of him is still struggling to believe this is real.

“Back now, back on ice soon. Missed you, too, Sid. No touching, no playing. Do better next time,” Geno says, sounding grumpy and a little sad, still. Sid pulls him into a tight hug and pulls the covers over them. They still have a few hours till they have to be at the airport, and they could both use a little comfort.

Notes:

Title from "I Could Pee on This" by Francesco Marciuliano.

Thanks to @salvamisandwich for the quick beta and title help!