( HOCKEY RPF ) adventure.exe

[capitals]

adventure.exe
( hockey rpf. nealer/sid. r. 1775 words. )
that awkward moment when james neal realizes that he's somehow dropped below the sidney crosby-level on the teams teasing hierarchy.
AO3. DW. LJ.


another fill for the Hockey Anon Kink Meme because i can't help myself. original prompt was: James Neal's impressive looking bulge + Crosby's DSL's = a fic where Sid blows Neal. Maybe after a big win, back at Neal's place. Or whatever, I don't care where it takes place. Just...yeah, Crosby blows Neal.

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James knows that before he got traded, Sid was the go-to for the majority of all the pranks and teasing that took place in the Penguins locker room. Hell, Sid still is, but with Sid being out for so long with concussions and injuries the guys have moved on to James. They call him their little brother and he takes enough shit for it to be true. He'd thought that with Sid coming back he'd have someone to share the love with. He doesn't mind getting pranked and teased, even tries to give his fair share back, but that doesn't mean he isn't willing to pass the buck off to Sid to give himself a little peace and quiet for a change. James heard Duper talking to Tanger and the word 'nair' was tossed around a couple of times and it kinda has him stressed the fuck out. So now Sid's back with two assists and sixteen minutes behind him after not playing in a real game for what feels like forever, dismissing all of it as him being rusty. Rusty. James would've killed for that particular brand of rust last season, but nothing good comes out of comparing yourself to Sidney Crosby. That shit should be the first rule in the Welcome to the NHL phamplet but for some reason it isn't. It's the first one in the unofficial version, especially when you play on the Pen's, which is just as good, he figures. Which is why James is not feeling it when Sid somehow manages to make a joke at his expense during Friday's practice. Sid's eyes are shining and his cheeks are red from exertion. They're all filing into the locker room, barely out of their skates and shrugging off their pads. Next step is the shower and after that it's home to rest up for the game tomorrow. Duper's scheming with Flower and Cookie, which doesn't bode well for James in and of itself. Geno and Staalsy are talking about maybe getting some food after they get out of there and everyone else is mostly keeping to themselves or dicking around on their phones. James is trying to decide if he wants to shower today or not. Right when he decides that he's just gonna forgo showering he catches Sid to look his way. They make eye contact, Sid smiles at him and then makes his chirp, all the guys laughing. Geno nudges Sid, proud, and James cannot believe that this is the same guy whose voice cracks when cusses off the ice. Total non-beauty move. The guys have told him that Sid's finally started to learn how to give almost as good as he gets, no longer just taking their teasing without a word, but apparently during his time being concussed he's advanced to giving shit, unprompted, and James will not stand for being teased Sidney Crosby. Just, no. Everyone clears out of the locker room quickly enough, wanting to get the fuck out of there now that their lovable robot slave-driver of a captain is back and able to force them to put in extra time, never mind that they'd only just finished practicing. Things are working in James' favor because in order to prove Sid wrong--he does bathe, thank you very much--he actually wound up taking that shower, barely getting his hair wet at all. The guys can laugh at him all they want, because when they're all bald and single and alone he'll still have a full head of awesome hair and getting so much he'll have to turn some down, and then they'll see who has the last laugh. He endures a few more jokes in the shower, this time from Geno about how maybe Paul will have sex with James tonight since he's finally bathed. The worst thing to have ever happened in James' life is Evgeni Malkin learning English, seriously. Half the time James thinks the only reason Geno did it was so that he could fuck with him just that much better. Paul is not his fucking girlfriend, he doesn't know how many times he has to say it before it sinks in. He just goes over to his house for breakfast all the time. And they lived together for a while, and then James had bought a house not 100 feet away from his. Just normal bro stuff. They're obviously jealous, especially Pascal Dupuis, that motherfucker. So. Everyone's cleared out except for James, Sid, and Asham. James gives Arron a look and he clears out too, so then it's just he and Sid. Sid looks like he doesn't want to leave, which has been his default expression since he was cleared to come back. James is willing to bet that Sid's just waiting for him to leave so he can dress out again and hit the ice. Disco Dan would pitch a fit if he found out but nobody can tell Sid what to do, especially when he's been unable to do after so long. "Why're you still lurking around, ay, Creature?" he asks, sitting next to Sid on the bench. Sid's cheeks heat up and he says, grinning, "I dunno. Just excited. Kinda don't wanna leave." James has always known that Sid is beyond earnest, the whole world knows. It's nothing new, he's seen it a million times before during team meetings or dinners and in his fucking interviews, but for some reason this time his dick seems to have noticed too. "You're such a dork," he blurts out, feeling awkward because his dick is at half-mast because of fucking Sidney Crosby being earnest. Sid's face shuts down a little and he frowns. He opens his mouth and James doesn't want to know if he's going to rebuke it or agree or what, so he kisses Sid just to shut him up. Sid's hands fly up to his shoulders, gripping James tight. He taps on them a couple times, probably trying to get James to pull back so he can ask what the fuck? but James really doesn't want to get chewed out by his captain about sexual harassment in the workplace so he just keeps on. He's really, really glad that he just got that contract and made sure they got in his sexuality clause because thank god his dick waited until everything was signed and officiated to decide that it was into Sidney Crosby otherwise this could wind up more than just awkward if Sid turns him down. Sid relaxes and gets into it, though, kissing him back and pressing their chests together. It's when he brings his hands up to clutch at James' hair that James finally brings himself to pull away. "Woah, woah, let's not tug on the hair." He chastises, laughing at the put out face the crosses Sid's face. Sid's lips are slick with spit and he looks dazed. James fears he doesn't look much better. "Yeah, okay," he agrees, nodding dumbly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Sorry." He places his hands back on James' shoulders slowly, as if to say , see? I can follow directions, and then Sid's closing his eyes and leaning in. As they make out James reaches down between them and opens Sid's pants one handedly, reaching inside to grab at Sid's dick, jacking him a couple of times. He doesn't know if what he's feeling is pride or exasperation at Sid apparently going commando after practices, but it's working in his favor regardless. Sid groans into James' mouth before biting down on his lip and taking it into his mouth, sucking away the hurt. James can feel his erection reaching the painful zone so he squeezes Sid's dick and says, "Ay, Sid, do me, too, yeah?" His voice snaps Sid out of whatever lust filled daze his was in, setting him to motion. He pulls away from James and scoots back on the bench. James sorta misses the feel of Sid's dick in his hand, but when Sid re-situates himself on the bench so that he's straddling it between his legs, face right in front of James' fly as he lays down on his chest in front of him, James decides that the trade off is pretty much worth it. Sid undoes James' fly and pulls his dick out through the hole in his boxers. He spits into his hand and strokes James' dick a few times, getting it wet before he leans down and takes the head of it into his mouth, digging his tongue into the slit. James grunts out a moan, eyes clinched shut because Sid's not holding back at all. He takes him deep into his mouth, choking himself on James for a few seconds and then taking him deeper once he gets used to it. All James can think about is Sid's throat working around the head of his dick. "Fucking christ, Sid, look at me," James begs. Sid's had his eyes closed this whole time, looking blissed out and as at home doing this as he does playing hockey. Sid does as he's told, looks up at James with his pupils blown and mouth stretched wide around his dick and it's sweeter than any and every goal James has ever scored. Sid keeps looking at him as he swallows down James' come, eyelashes fluttering, eventually pulling off and using his hand to draw out the last twitches of James' orgasm. His lips are a deep red and puffy, swollen with blood. He looks debauched in every since of the word. And fuck if he still doesn't look every bit as earnest, too. Like he wants to know if he did a good job, wants James to tell him he did good, as if James coming his fucking brains out wasn't enough of a sign. James fights to catch his breath as he cards his fingers through Sid's hair before grasping his face with both hands and hauling him up for a kiss, tasting himself on Sid's tongue. He nips playfully at Sid's bottom lip a few times before pressing his smile into Sid's mouth and then pulling away completely so that he can look into Sid's eyes. "I'll do you next, but just don't fucking pull on my hair to hard, yeah?" Sid smiles wide and nods rapidly. He pulls away from James and flops backwards to that he's laying on his back, pushing his jeans further down his thighs, his dick sanding straight up, head a deep purple. James grins and licks his lips. Sid can tease him all he wants if this is what James gets in return, no problem.