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You'd Be Home, 1/1
Title: You'd Be Home

Fandom: NHL RPS

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

Summary: "Frankly, it’s a miracle that the house is finished- carpet in place, furniture assembled, decorative hand towels on the racks- and Sid really can’t help being proud. And if that translates into telling everyone he can convince to stay still for longer than thirty seconds, he’s sorry, but not that sorry."

Length: 3,000 wordsish

Warnings: babies! ALL THE BABIES

Notes: So like, Sid and Geno are just totally into kids and Sid really did build a new house and there really is a synthetic rink in it. The Hoyden and I firmly believe the purpose of this rink is really for Sid to teach his children to skate on. Hoyden best. This was her idea, because I was like "hey don't go to bed give me a story prompt" and she was like fuck this bitch i gotta sleep "uhhh, housewarming party." And from there... also love to Moonklutz, as always and asleepunderpurpleskies, who are both great in all ways.

Sid will admit that he talks about his new house a lot. But really, he doesn’t have much else to talk about- pretty much the only people he talks to are his teammates and his family, and all he does is play hockey and decorate his house, so.

And honestly a lot of the decisions he gets asked to make are so absolutely bewildering that he has to share them with somebody. He usually tells Geno, who listens carefully, but has no actual opinions further than that there should be a house, or his mother, who listens carefully and then warns Sidney about everything that could possibly go wrong. She means well, but Sid usually googles fourteen things after their conversations and hyperventilates in the corner for a while after they get off the phone.

Frankly, it’s a miracle that the house is finished- carpet in place, furniture assembled, decorative hand towels on the racks- and Sid really can’t help being proud. And if that translates into telling everyone he can convince to stay still for longer than thirty seconds, he’s sorry, but not that sorry.

But Sutsy had looked a little wild around the eyes when Sid told him that he’s done, no, really done this time, he hasn’t called his decorator in over 14 hours, and said, “Good, great, Sid, okay? You should throw a party.”

Sid had nodded absently, moving on, totally absorbed in taping his stick, instead.

When he had been designing the house, he’d been thinking ahead, years of Pittsburgh winters and summers, plenty of space for people and pets and someday a family, and at least two more Cup parties. He doesn’t have any experience hosting parties, but he’s not worried- he’ll learn and it can’t be that hard to figure out anyway.

But he did think you had to invite people first before they came over for a housewarming party.

Duper shows up with Carole-Lyne and all four of the kids around noon on a Saturday, Sid up and dressed but still a little sleepy after a late flight back from New York, relaxing on a free day before their game against the Flyers tomorrow.

“Hey,” Duper says, grinning, immediately handing Lola to Sid, and she squirms, but apparently just so she can wrap her arms around Sid’s neck like a barnacle.

“Sid!” Lola cries gleefully in his ear.

“Hi?” Sid says, and it comes out like a question, even as Zoe attaches herself to his leg.

“Nice day for a housewarming party, huh?” Duper says, face totally earnest. Sid has no idea what is happening, but Carole-Lyne is brushing by with a kiss to Sid’s cheek, arms full of a slow cooker that smells amazing.

“I guess?” Sid is still completely confused, but Lola is chirping happily against his face about a dog she saw and Zoe has let go to chase after Kody and Maeva, who are going out the French doors in the kitchen to the backyard. “Are they-“

Duper waves him off. “They’ll be fine out there for a while, if they get cold they’ll come back in.”

“Sid,” Lola whines, because he’s not paying attention to her and Sid shifts his attention dutifully.

“What did the dog look like?” Sid asks, apologetically.

“Big!” Lola shouts, throwing her hands out and Sid instinctively holds her closer, worried she’ll fall.

Pascal says something that seems like it should be an explanation, but Sid misses it, because the dog was big and black and furry, apparently, and the next thing Sid knows, his house is full of people.

Tanner pats him on the back, right below where Francesca is sitting, because at some point he lost Lola to her siblings and Craig had just handed him his daughter and wandered off to play a game of keep away with some of the crew of kids in Sid’s backyard. It’s an unusually warm day, but Sid is still worried about some of the littler kids, playing tag with abandon. At least he knows the sod lain a month or two ago is level and soft, which helps.

“It’s a really nice house, Sid,” Tanner says, his wife, Emily, nodding. “C’mon, show us the rink.”

And it would be rude to refuse, so he takes Tanner, Emily and Francesca downstairs to the rink, which had been the subject of a lot of chirping from the guys. Sid couldn’t ever bring himself to regret it, though, because if he wants to skate at one in the morning- not that he does, but- he can.

“I still can’t believe you did this,” Ben says, but he’s grinning as he looks over it, having joined the group as they were heading down the stairs, dragging Kris with him.

“What’s the point of building your own house if you don’t get everything you want from it?” Sid asks with a shrug, which bounces Francesca and makes her giggle. Sid bounces her again, carefully holding on to her ankles, just to hear her laugh.

“Hey, Sid!” someone yells upstairs, and Sid excuses himself, being careful to not accidentally knock Francesca’s head on any of the doorways.

It turns out that Paul and Nisky were just checking to make sure it was okay to put the cooler they brought on the deck, after someone had said to make sure the deck was treated already.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Sid says, and they bustle away with the cooler. Francesca climbs down him like a jungle gym and makes a break for the other kids in the yard and Sid is suddenly sort of overwhelmed by everything.

“Breathe,” Geno advises, his hand curling around Sid’s elbow. “Look like fish.”

“Hey,” Sid says, a little startled, but glad for the distraction, and as always, glad to see Geno. “When did you get here?”

“While ago,” Geno says, with a shrug, snagging a bottle of water from the counter. “You okay?”

“Yeah, no, I just… did I invite everyone over?” Sid asks, a little plaintive.

Geno laughs. “Duper,” he says with a shrug.

Sid sighs, but looks around the room. There’s food covering most of the available surfaces, shrieks of laughter coming from the yard, and the sound of people talking filling the house. “Everyone’s having a good time, right?” he asks.

“Of course,” Geno says, looking amused, that Oh, Sidney look that everyone has, fond and something else Sid can’t figure out. Geno’s hand is still firmly wrapped around Sid’s elbow, his thumb rubbing reassuringly through Sid’s sweater. “Show me house?”

Geno had been over a couple of times during construction, but Sid realizes Geno’s never seen the house finished and Sid wants to show him everything at once, wants him to like it all. “Yeah, c’mon,” Sid says.

A couple of people obligingly follow Sid and Geno around for a bit, but they’ve basically lost everyone else by the time Sid gets around to explaining that the bunk beds in the yellow guest room really take advantage of the ceiling space.

Sid had taken possession of Lola again on their way upstairs, because really, he hasn’t baby-proofed the house, and she’s starting that ultra-curious phase and Sid would never forgive himself if his house broke her.

“I think that’s everything,” Sid says, resting Lola on his hip, even though she’s really getting too old for that. But it’s not like his arm strength isn’t up to it, so.

“Is good,” Geno says, after a moment, and then smiles at him slyly. “Big, nice, for team parties. Sid did good job.”

Sid can’t help but grin, even as he rolls his eyes. “Thanks, G.”

Lola holds her hands out imperiously toward Geno. “Gee!” she repeats, insistently until Geno comes over to her.

“Here,” Geno tells her, scooping her up out of Sid’s arms easily, murmuring to her in Russian as he gets her settled. “Good, yes?”

“Gee,” she agrees, eyelids drifting sleepily, tucking her face into his neck.

“Looks like she just wanted a place to fall asleep,” Sid says, chest weirdly tight as he brushes the hair away from her face, leaning in close.

“Maybe Sid so boring, make babies sleep, will be good husband,” Geno teases softly, Lola humming to herself even as her eyes close.

“Maybe you’re the one who put her to sleep,” Sid jokes right back. “You could make a fortune as a nanny instead of a hockey player.” He’s still stroking Lola’s hair gently, the superfine strands impossibly soft where they’re curling over Geno’s hand, supporting her head.

“Have to test, need more babies?” Geno suggests.

“Yeah,” Sid agrees, suddenly struck by the picture they must make, Lola sound asleep tucked against Geno’s shoulder, their faces close, whispering quietly, like parents anxious not to disturb their daughter’s sleep.

Sid has always wanted a big family, enough kids to make a van a necessity, not a choice, to drop them off at hockey practice and have someone to watch them with, someone to sit next to at games and say, “that’s our kid,” with, bragging to anyone who will listen.

He’s never thought about who would be next to him, but Sid knows, knows bone deep that if it was Geno next to him, in the car, in the stands, Sid couldn’t be luckier, couldn’t imagine someone more perfect.

“Should take her to Duper, yes?” Geno asks, voice low, and it takes Sid a second to get himself together.

“Yeah,” he says. “You stay, I’ll get him.”

The last thing Sid sees before heading out of the room is Geno sitting in front of the big, sunny window, in the huge armchair Sid had had to have, Lola safe and sleeping and Sid’s heart feels overfull, and he has to go.

He takes a moment on the stairs to just think, trying to figure himself out. If asked five minutes ago, he’s sure he would have said his feelings about Geno were totally platonic, but he can trace the same breathless thread of wanting eagerness- the desire to stay with Geno, to make him happy- embarrassingly far back. Taylor calls him “astonishingly self-unaware” all the time; he just didn’t think it was that true. It’s like watching game tape, seeing the shot from another angle- looking at himself through this new lens, Sid isn’t sure how he didn’t realize he was more than a little in love with Geno from day one.

But he doesn’t have time to hyperventilate a little on a staircase; he’s supposed to be finding Duper. He finds Carole-Lyne before him, though, who just nods like she expected it. “It’s about her naptime, sorry,” she says. “She’ll be out like a light for a while though, if you have a bed she can sleep in.”

Sid has about eight, so that’d be a yes. Apparently, it’s catching, because there are a couple of other sleepy faces that Vero offers to watch.

“Are you sure?” Dagmar, Tomas’s wife, asks. “You’ll be watching your own, soon.”

Vero laughs, putting a hand on her massively pregnant stomach. “It’s an excuse to get off my feet and get some quiet, I’ll take it.” she says. Flower walks her up the stairs, even as she smacks at his hands for fussing.

Sid ends up with Kunitz’s daughter on his lap anyway, Payton wide-awake but clingy.

“I kind of abandoned Geno up there, though,” Sid says, even as he makes no move to get up from the couch.

Chris snorts. “Please, Geno’s as baby-hungry as you are, I’m sure he’s fine with it.”

“I’m not ‘baby-hungry,’” Sid protests, even as he tickles Payton who squeals at him happily.

“Yeah, uh huh,” Chris says, staring at him. “I heard you have like three kids’ rooms upstairs.”

“They’re guest rooms,” Sid tries, but it sounds weak even to his own ears.

“If your guests are kids, then, sure, fine,” Chris agrees.

“Shut it,” Sid mutters, but it’s hard to get riled when it’s pretty much the truth.

“But seriously, Sid,” Chris says, eyeballing him. “Are you thinking about settling down?”

“No,” Sid lies, badly, glancing upstairs automatically to where he assumes Geno is still holding Lola.

“Well, it seems like you are,” Chris says. “You even picked a house across the street from your parents, essentially.”

Sid rolls his eyes. “It was the only house in the neighborhood up for sale.”

“You already had a house,” Chris reminds him.

“Payton, your father is a pain,” Sid tells her, and she giggles and pats Sid’s cheeks. Sid automatically smiles back and Chris rolls his eyes.

“Baby-hungry. I’ll have to count when I leave to make sure you don’t keep one,” he says, reaching out for Payton.

Sid only feels a little smug when she insists on being given back to Sid.

Okay, a lot smug.

People start leaving early, probably in deference to tomorrow’s game, coming by to thank Sid, who accepts habitually, even though he had nothing to do with the party, other than opening the door for Duper. He does give Payton back to Chris, eventually, and it’s getting awfully quiet when Sid realizes he didn’t see Geno leave.

He’s not in the kitchen or out on the deck, Sid discovers as he absently collects empties into a trash bag. He’s starting to think maybe he just missed Geno, but that doesn’t seem like him to leave without saying goodbye. So Sid takes out the recycling then heads back to the last place he saw him, upstairs in the nap room, and sure enough, Geno’s sound asleep in the chair, the last of the spring sunlight keeping him warm.

Sid can’t help but come closer, and he knows he should wake Geno up, because no matter how comfortable the chair is, it can’t be good to sleep in it, but he just stands there instead. It’s too easy like this, the house quiet save for Geno’s soft breathing.

He perches on the arm of the chair, telling himself it’s so that if Geno’s head snaps up in surprise, he won’t break Sid’s nose, but really, it’s like there’s a magnetic pull drawing him closer and closer to Geno.

“Hey, Geno,” Sid finally forces himself to say, shaking his shoulder gently.

Geno’s head doesn’t snap up, he just blinks fuzzily for a few seconds, looking up at Sid. “I fall asleep. Everyone leaves?” he asks, voice a little lower and scratchy. Sid wants to wake up to that.

“Yeah, a little while ago,” Sid says, and the quiet of the house doesn’t seem lonely anymore, it feels like a cocoon, like it’s surrounding him and Geno in a bubble.

“Late?” Geno asks, glancing at the window. “Don’t want to be bad guest.”

“You’re not a guest,” Sid says with a shrug, then realizes that might sound rude. “Well, you are, just not- you’re always welcome, I mean.”

“Will take Sid up on offer,” Geno says, teasing a little.

“I want you to,” Sid says, but instead of light, or even just friendly, it comes out too serious, too heartfelt, because Sid wants Geno any way, any where he can have him.

He can feel his face heat as Geno’s eyes widen, and Sid’s mouth is open to say something, but he never gets the chance, because Geno cups the back of his neck and pulls him down into a deep, wet, scorchingly hot kiss.

Sid can’t bring himself to have any shame in the face of getting what he wants, so he just melts against Geno, letting Geno pull him closer, sliding off the arm of the chair into Geno’s lap. Geno’s hands are everywhere, a thumb brushing over Sid’s cheekbone, another on Sid’s hip, the tips of his fingers drifting under Sid’s t-shirt. Sid lets his hands rest on Geno’s chest, feeling Geno’s heart beat fast and promising under his palms, his toes curling in sheer giddy satisfaction.

“Have wanted for years,” Geno groans, nosing at the skin just underneath Sid’s jaw, pressing a kiss there, shivery-good. “Waited for look.”

“Look?” Sid asks breathlessly.

Geno leans back and gives Sid this look, and oh- it’s warm and tender and Sid wants to drown in it and okay, yeah. “That is the look Sid gives me. Know it from here.” Geno drags one of Sid’s hands over a little, right over his heart and Sid can’t do anything but kiss Geno again and again, desperate and deliriously happy.

It’s insane and too fast, but within four minutes of meeting Geno, Sid had told him they were going to win a Stanley Cup together, and they did, so Sid is half-sure, half-hopeful when he whispers, “Hey, I love you.”

Geno blinks for a second and Sid scrambles to cover. “I mean, you don’t have to say anything, I just-“

Geno is kissing him like his life depends on it, like there’s no one else in the world, not as far as Geno’s concerned. It’s intoxicating and Sid can’t get enough of it. “Yes, I love Sid,” Geno breathes against Sid’s mouth, barely an inch away, like he can’t bear to be further away.

Like the endless perfect moment between the puck leaving his stick and the siren going off, Sid can see years stretching ahead of them, other early evening kisses, unhurried and perfect, just waiting for them.

The sun still sets pretty early and the room is getting darker, twilight seeping in, bringing the day to a close, and Sid doesn’t want Geno to go. So he asks him, “Stay?”

Geno leans in, kissing Sid softly on the lips before resting his forehead against Sid’s. “If Sid stay, I stay.”

Sid can feel the smile on his face, knows it’s ridiculous and huge, but he’s so happy he can hardly contain it. “Oh, I’m never moving again.”

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