#sidcros

inspired by this tweet^^

progress pics:

The Saturday afternoon sun hangs low over the tree line at the back of Nate’s property, its golden rays teasing the tops of the evergreen branches as they cast warm, honey-colored beams across the expansive back deck. The air is sweet with the scent of pine, salt water, and the rich, smoky aroma of charcoal starting to go to ash in the grill. 

You’re sprawled across a sun lounger on the deck, clad in a tiny red bikini and giant sunglasses, a cold vodka seltzer sweating in your hand. The entire day has felt like the first real wave of deep relaxation you’d had in years and you felt boneless with it. Beside you, Nate’s girlfriend Charlotte is stretched out in a matching lounger, her sunglasses pushed up into her hair. She’d gotten into town this morning after spending some time with her family over the last few weeks. 

Having Charlotte back in town felt like the final piece of your perfect summer falling into place. She wasn’t just your older brother’s girlfriend, she had been one of your closest confidants since your teen years. Her and Nate had been together for what felt like forever by now and you considered her more of a sister than anything else. 

Where the deck was quiet and lazy while you and Charlotte caught up and listened to Molly Chapman’s newest album, further down in the yard towards the edge of the lake, the boys were rowdy and loud. 

It was like a commercial for the perfect Canadian summer afternoon. Macklin, Will and Sam were acting like a pack of hyperactive hyenas, tossing a football back and forth with entirely too much energy for three men who had just finished two weeks of grueling on and off ice training sessions. Their shouts echoing off the tree trunks as each of them tried to get the ball over the imaginary goal line.

Closer to the waters edge, Kris, Brad and Sidney were sitting around the stone bonfire pit that Nate had had put in three summers ago. The vets were nursing beers and occasionally yelling at the younger players when their game got a little too close to the fire that was burning low in front of them. Nate was occupied by the grill on the upper part of the deck, wielding tongs while he watched the steaks and salmon that would be for dinner later that evening. 

While Charlotte grabs you another seltzer, you adjust the back of your lounger to sit up a bit more, giving you a perfect view of the sprawling backyard. A view that included one very stoic Pittsburgh Penguins Captain who had somehow positioned himself so that you were deliberately in his line of sight. His lawn chair is turned so his back is completely at the water, his face angled directly towards house. 

Towards the deck. 

Towards you. 

He’s dressed in a simple, well-fitting maroon t-shirt and black shots, his hat turned backwards, looking relaxed on the surface. Every time he takes a sip of his beer though, the long necked bottle lifting to his lips, his eyes track towards the deck with a quiet focus that he seems entirely powerless to stop. 

Not that you mind. It stokes something low and heated in your belly every time your gaze snags with his from across the yard. 

“So,” Charlotte murmurs, checking behind her to make sure Nate is occupied while he tries to teach Will about the finer points of grilling salmon. “Are we going to talk about it or are we just going to pretend that a certain captain isn’t currently watching you like a hawk?” 

"I haven't the faintest clue of what you're talking about."  You lie.

Poorly.

Charlotte laughs softly, tilting her head towards you. Her tone is light and casual but you see that look in her eyes. It’s the look of an older sister watching someone who has a crush on her younger sister.  

“Oh, come on YN! I’ve been back for exactly three hours and I’ve already counted at least six times that Sid has completely distracted just by watching you. And trust me, he’s not paying attention to me and my fabulous tan I got in France last week.” 

Your stomach does a quick flip, the cold condensation of the can in your hands biting against your palm. Your gaze flickers towards the fire pit before it bounces back up to Charlotte, your heart hammering against your ribcage. 

“Still have no idea what you’re talking about.” You sniff, tilting your head back in an attempt to play it as cool as possible. 

Charlotte snorts but doesn’t push it any more. 

From where he’s sitting, Sidney is fighting a miserable, losing battle. He’s supposed to be listening to Kris talk about their tee time tomorrow but his attention is entirely occupied with how good your tan looks against the tiny scraps of red fabric you’re trying to pass off as a bikini. Every once in a while, the sound of your voice - light and free - drifts towards him over the sound of the younger guys shouting and when it does he feels like he’s going insane. 

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing when he first sits down but before he knows it, he’s shifting the lawn chair he’d claimed earlier in the afternoon so he had you directly in his line of sight. It felt physical, the need to be able to see you whenever he gathered the courage to chance a glance in your direction. He’d spent the entire day on the ice, the focus and concentration he’d needed for the drills had worn him down and Sidney found himself craving the quiet stillness you brought into his world. 

As if you’d heard him thinking about you, your gaze floats over towards his all of a sudden just as Sidney lifts his head towards the deck. From across the lawn, his dark eyes lock directly on yours. 

The tension thickens instantly, sparking to life across the sloping grass of the lawn. It’s that same suffocating gaze he’d fixed you with during your morning run last week, a ritual that had now become as necessary to him as breathing. His pulse flutters wildly when he realizes he’s caught you staring too. 

For a split second you stop breathing, your lips parting as you tilt your head. You hadn’t expected to catch him fully staring at you out in the open like that. The way Sidney was watching you did something to that heat in your belly, stoking it to a roaring fire whenever he looked at you. 

You watch as Kris says something to him, nudging his knee when he doesn’t even blink, and the spell is broken. Sidney snaps his head around, clearing his throat as he nods hastily at whatever Kris was saying. You can’t help but smile at the crimson flush that climbs right up the back of his neck and paints its way across his cheeks. 

Charlotte watches the entire exchange unfold, her smirk widening into a triumphant grin. 

“Interesting.” She hums quietly, leaning back into her lounger with a satisfied look on her face. “Very interesting.” 

You shoot her a glare, “Shut up!” 

yn_snaps posted!

9,397 likes liked by mackcelebrini, charlotte_walker, nathanmackinnon, and others yn_snaps soul full of sunshine charlotte_walker so glad to finally have you home sissyyyy >>>yn_snaps please never leave me again. there was too much testostone for me to handle here without you. >>>nathanmackinnon why do i get the feeling that you missed my sister more than you missed ME >>>charlotte_walker i mean... (liked by author) mackcelebrini i'm still pissed you didn't make me a s'more like you promised >>>yn_snaps YOU LET SAM AND WILLSMITHHOCKEY THROW ME OFF THE DOCK!!! >>>mackcelebrini it was 2 against 1! What was I supposed to do??? >>>yn_snaps YOU LAUGHED THE ENTIRE TIME >>>user928 her referring to will as willsmithhockey is sending me omg

The honey colored afternoon slips by seamlessly into a deep, bruised purple and pink dusk. It’s the kind of heavy summer twilight that makes everything feel still and completely peaceful. By the time the dinner dishes are cleared and the grill is turned off, a restless energy takes over the younger guys and Nate suggests taking the boat out to catch the final dip of the sunset over the water. 

Kris and Brad say their goodbyes before the group heads out, both making excuses of calling their wives and kids before bedtime before everyone else heads towards the dock. Macklin, Will, and Sam end up sitting in the bow, already arguing on who gets control over the music. Charlotte slides into the wide captains seat up front next to Nate, kissing him on the cheek as he starts the engine up, the low rumble of the motor vibrating through the hull. 

Sidney is in front of you as you pad down the dock behind everyone else. He steps into the boat first and immediately turns around to offer you a strong, large hand to help you step off the dock. You decidedly ignore the way your skin sparks to life when he grips your palm steadily with his so you don’t end up in the water. 

“Thanks.” You murmur, your stomach swooping when he gives you the smallest of grins. 

The only empty space left once you and Sidney are on board is the padded bench seat along the back of the boat. He sits down first and you follow, your pulse hammering when you realize that you’re about to spend the next hour or so pressed up against his side. His broad back rests against the cushion, one long arm stretched out casually along the back of the seat. 

When you slide in next to him, tucking yourself between the side of the boat and his large frame, to your surprise, he doesn’t pull away. His posture tightens though, just stiffens slightly but it’s enough that you feel it. You’re familiar with the way he holds himself around you now, like he’s desperately hanging onto control, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. 

It sends a thrilling shimmer down your spine, knowing what you do to this man who is always in such tight control of everything around him. 

Nate puts the boat in reverse, backing away from the dock slowly. The bow lifts just as Macklin turns his music on and the boat cuts through the glassy surface of the lake. 

With the sudden speed comes the wind. It whips up out of nowhere, the heat of the sun vanishing instantly, replaced by a biting, damp chill that has you shivering despite yourself. You hadn’t even considered how cold it would be with the sun close to the horizon and your thin white t-shirt that you’d tossed on over your bikini isn’t nearly warm enough. 

You glance over at Sidney, who is staring straight ahead as the wind whips at the thick hoodie he’s got on. He looks entirely unfazed by the cold with how solid he’s built. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, his large frame acting like a furnace, the warmth from him just barely reaching you where you sit beside him. 

He must notice you shivering because suddenly and without even looking down at you, he drops the arm that isn’t around your shoulder down so he can tug on the waistband of your shorts, silently encouraging you to move closer towards him. You obey instantly, sliding a few inches closer to him. Your shoulder brushes up against his bicep as you tuck your knees slightly towards his leg, trying to shield yourself from the wind whipping across the back of the boat as Nate pushes the throttle faster. 

Beneath his shirt, Sidney’s chest expands with a heavy breath. 

When you daringly press into his side, his brain kicks into a frantic overdrive that makes him feel like he’s 18 years old again and completely inexperienced with any sort of female interaction.

She’s just cold, he tells himself in a desperate attempt to rationalize why he’s suddenly feeling like his every nerve ending in his body is on fire. It’s fine. Anyone would do this. She’s just trying to stay warm. Nate is literally five feet away from us, this isn’t breaking a rule. I’m just being a decent human being. 

He anchors himself to the logic, clinging to any other reason that may explain why he’s feeling like his heart is about to leap right out from behind his ribs. This wasn’t a big deal, he tries to tell himself as he ignores the spark of wild electricity that shoots straight down his spine as you settle closer to him. 

Sidney blows out a heavy breath. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Your chattering teeth give away the lie.

“You're literally shivering like a chihuahua" He rumbles. "Here, put this on."

Before you can even react, he reaches down, grabbing the hem of his Penguins hoodie and pulls it over his head in one fluid motion. You blink over at him, surprised at the attention he’s showing you with Nate right there. 

You can feel Charlotte’s gaze boring holes in the side of your head. 

He doesn’t just hand the sweatshirt over though. Instead, he turns to face you fully and leans in close so he can tug the massive hoodie over your head himself. For a few breathless seconds, you’re completely drowning in him. The world goes black  for a beat and then your head pops through as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes, caught off guard with how close he is. 

The boat hits a sudden wave head on, knocking it awkwardly off balanu. Lurching forward, your hands instinctively come up to plant themselves against the solid mass of Sidney’s chest for balance. His hands shoot out, catching your waist to steady you before you even have a chance to recover on your own. 

His hands are incredibly warm, his grip firm and secure as he holds you in place while the boat wobbles through the wake. Sidney’s face is just a few inches away from yours, his dark eyes dropping to your lips for one very dangerous millisecond before he reluctantly drags his gaze back up to your eyes. 

“You good?” He murmurs. 

Heat shoots through you when his thumb does an agonizingly slow swipe against the few inches of exposed skin at your hip. The touch is so brief and hidden beneath the pooling fabric oh his hoodie, there’s no way anyone else would notice it. That doesn’t even matter though because it sets your skin on fire. 

“Yeah.” You breathe, “Thank you.” 

You’re endlessly grateful that the sun is almost completely set and the twilight is deep and purple as he lets you go, the dim light hiding the crimson blush that creeps across your cheeks. 

He slowly releases your waist, his hands lingering for a beat too long because he’s feeling reckless and brave. 

When you pull the sleeves down over your hands, you're buried even deeper in the feel of him. The sweatshirt is massive on you but it’s the smell that sets your heart thrumming violently against your sternum. It smells exactly like him, a delicious mixture of bright fabric softener and the spicy cologne he wears with a faint hint of the crisp scent of the rink. The thick fabric traps your body in his warmth as you bury yourself deeper in it. 

Sliding back down against the cushions, you dare to rest your shoulder firmly against his side. 

Sidney lets out a slow, somewhat defeated exhale through his nose as he tries to rationalize his reaction to you for the second time that night. He’s utterly defeated by how good it feels to have you tucked into his side.

Without thinking he drops a heavy arm onto the back of the bench behind you. His corded forearm rests solidly along your back, hand gently curving around your shoulder so he can shield you from the wind a little better. 

Your leg sits right up against his, hidden by the deep shadows of the twilight and the oversized fit of his hoodie. Something sticks in your chest when he doesn’t move away. Instead, he subtly shifts his weight as carefully as he can so his thigh is even more firmly pressed against yours, locking you into a secret pocket of heat. 

Tilting your head back against the back of the bench. You look up at him from undernesth impossibly thick lashes, blinking slowly as you process the last few moments. Sidney doesn’t dare look down at you, his jaw clenched so tight he might crack a molar. His gaze stays firmly fixed on the back of Nate’s head as your brother steers the boat in the fading light. 

As Nate turns the boat back towards the dock, Sidney’s thumb starts making slow, agonizingly sweet circles against your shoulder, a move that’s hidden between your body and the edge of the boat. It’s the longest he’s ever dared to touch you and feels so heartbreakingly intimate, you find yourself struggling to breathe. 

Both of you were in so much trouble.

The humid, salt-laced air of the nearby harbor settles over the backyard as the embers of that night’s bonfire die down to a smoldering orange glow. One by one, the rest of the guys have cleared out, leaving behind a sleepy silence that’s only interrupted by the quiet lapping of the lake against the dock. 

Nate stretches his arms high over his head, yawning loudly as he kicks a piece of kindling into the ashes. 

“I am fucking exhausted and we have an early tee time tomorrow.” He groans as he looks at you and then Sidney, his expression lacking any sort of suspicion over what had happened between you two earlier in the evening. “Don’t stay up too late, kids. Lock the slider door when you guys turn in for the night?” 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll make sure everything is locked up before I head home.” Sid says, voice calm despite the way his chest is squeezing painfully with the anticipation of what was about to happen. 

He’s about to be completely alone with you and Sidney isn’t quite sure if he’s thrilled or terrified by the thought.

Beside Nate, Charlotte pauses. She hooks her arm around your brother’s waist but turns her head to lock eyes with you over his shoulder. The silvery moonlight that shimmers across the lawn catches the razor-sharp spark of mischief in her gaze. She doesn’t say a word but throws you a quick wink before turning Nate towards the house. 

The glass slider clicks shut behind them and a minute later, the upstairs master bedroom lights flicker on, casting a golden glow across the lawn. A few moments go by before they’re cut completely and the yard is bathed again in just soft, glowing moonlight. It’s clear tonight, the stars winking at you overhead as a breeze flutters through the branches of the evergreens that line the property. 

And suddenly, it’s just the two of you. 

The seltzers that you’d been nursing all evening have left you in a warm, heavy state. The edges of your judgement blur a bit as you watch Sidney over the glowing embers of the fire. He’d placed himself as far away from you as he could but you hadn’t really let it bother you. You were still buzzing with warmth from being wrapped up in his hoodie all night. 

Sidney shifts his weight in the low slung Adirondack chair, his gaze glued on the embers burning in front of him as the air between you shifts. It thickens into something heavy with anticipation, consuming the oxygen that exists between you.

You’re still wearing his Penguins hoodie, the oversized sleeves bunched up at your wrists as you tuck your knees beneath the hem so your bare legs are protected against the chill of the evening. 

A sharp breeze cuts across the lawn, eliciting an involuntary shudder that ripples down your spine. 

“Are you cold?” Sidney asks, his voice rougher than he’d meant it to be 

“Freezing.” You reply, a shock of reckless bravery swelling in your chest. 

You’re not entirely sure if its the darkness of your brother’s bedroom or the alcohol that has you standing, but whatever it is, suddenly your legs are carrying you around the fire pit towards where Sidney sits, his back to the house. He watches you approach, his gaze dragging down the lean line of your body, tracking your movement with such focus it makes your pulse soar. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, breathless as he stares up at you. 

“Getting warm.” You reply as if it’s obvious. “Can you keep me warm, Sid?” 

Sidney swallows thickly, his throat bobbing as he tries to process the question you’d just asked. Alarm bells go wild in his head but for some reason, he’s feeling reckless tonight too. Without giving you a reply, Sidney reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist. 

“This is dangerous.” Despite his own warning, Sidney pulls you down into his lap.

One arm slips behind you, curling around your hip so he can pull you close while the other settles over your legs so they drape across his thighs. 

You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, dragging in a deep breath. The scent of him that you’d already been living in all night is overwhelming in a completely new way. Your arms snake up around his neck, your heart thundering so wildly you think you’ll wake the entire neighborhood with the sound. 

“Nate’s not here, Sid. No one is.” You whisper into his skin, smiling when he slips his hand underneath his hoodie to rub maddeningly slow circles against your bare skin with his thumb. 

Sidney pulls you even further into his chest as a delicate quiet settles over you. For several moments, neither of you make a sound, sinking into the forbidden way you’re curling into the warmth of his body. He feels your muscles relax inch by inch as the minutes slowly tick by.

Sidney swears he never wants this moment to end despite how bad it would be if anyone ever found out about the stolen affection. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Sidney whispers against your neck as he tucks his nose behind your ear. 

You smell like sunshine and honey and he thinks it might actually drive him insane. 

“I was just thinking about how easy it to breathe out here.” You say softly, your fingers wandering into the hair that curls at the nape of his neck. “Before I quit…I forgot how to do that. Literally.” 

Sidney’s thumb stalls against your hip. “What do you mean?” 

“I had a panic attack in the middle of a client presentation two months ago.” You confess, the truth tumbling out of you.

Your chest clenches knowing that Sidney is the only keeper of that secret.

“I sat on the bathroom floor for half an hour just trying to get air in my lungs. I thought I was actually dying.” Sidney’s fingers flex into your hip at your words. “It’s not easy being Nathan MacKinnon’s little sister. He’s so effortlessly perfect at everything he does. And when you’re like me - an utterly unremarkable little sister - perfection isn’t just an abstract goal, it becomes the only acceptable outcome. If I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t good enough…and I could never quite figure out how to be good enough.” 

As the confession leaves your mouth, you realize you've never said that out loud.

Sidney doesn’t even blink. The maturity he’s developed over the years shows in the way he’s looking at you with such raw admiration. He understands the crushing weight of expectations better than anyone else you’ve ever known. He’s lived his entire life carrying the pressure of an entire sport, an entire country, on his back. 

His expression softens as he lifts a hand to frame your face, thumb brushing roughly over your cheek. “Baby, you're a lot of things but unremarkable isn’t one of them.” 

You huff a quiet laugh but lean into his touch, “Tell that to my anxiety.” 

“Gladly. I’ll tell you how absolutely remarkable you are as many times as it takes for you to start to believe it.” The tone of his voice is steady, carrying a grounded comfort that settles deep in your bones. “No one expects you to be perfect. I don’t. Nate doesn’t. Your family doesn’t. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, especially me. I see how much you care about everyone around you, how passionate you are about life, how deeply you feel everything.” 

A tear slips down your cheek at his reassurance.

There’s a protective instinct that flares when Sidney sees it, his thumb sweeping over your cheek again to brush it away. He leans in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. You’re so close you can feel his breath fan out over your lips. 

The air between you goes still, the tension thickening until it becomes so charged it feels like lightning.

“Sid.” You breath, your lips just a whisper away from his with the movement. 

His eyes drop to your mouth, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle ticks heavily. Every single instinct in his body is screaming at him to close the remaining distance so he can finally taste you, to claim you like he’s wanted to do since you threw the spatula at his chest that first afternoon. 

For three agonizingly long seconds, his grip tightens on your waist so he can pull you impossibly closer. You can feel the erratic thump of his heart underneath the hand that you have braced against his chest.

He wants this, wants you. Every cell in your body certain of it.

Sidney's hands are trembling like he’s barely holding onto the last silken thread of his control that has slowly been fraying since he first set eyes on you a few weeks ago. 

All at once, his discipline slams back into place with a low groan that sounds like a curse. He doesn’t push you away. There’s no way he could do that. He just gently tilts his head back, putting some desperatly needed distance between your mouth and his before he loses his mind completely. 

“We can’t, YN. Not here. Not now.” He rasps desperately. 

Sidney is so completely shaken by how close he just came from breaking every single one of his rules he can barely breathe. He keeps his hands on your waist and his eyes stay fixed on yours. You can almost see the way he’s trying to tell you that he knows the rules won’t hold him back forever. 

With a defeated sigh you thread your fingers through his curls as you bury your head in the crook of his neck again. 

“I know, Sid.” You whisper. “I know.” 

The electricity from what had happened at the bonfire was still buzzing against your skin hours after Sidney had left.

You were lying in the dark of your bedroom, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. Your pulse still refused to slow down, despite the fact that you’d been alone for what felt like ages now.

The memory of Sidney’s hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you deep into his chest, the way his fingers had dug into your skin when you’d said his name, the way he’d wiped away your tears when you’d started to cry - all of it was on a repeated loop in your head. 

It was impossible to think of anything else. Impossible to even consider falling asleep while your skin was still on fire from his touch. 

Giving up on sleep around 2 in the morning, you reach for your phone and open Instagram without really thinking. On a whim, you take a quick shot of the moon peeking through the trees outside your opened window, captioned it with a sleepy, frustrated: brain won’t be quiet tonight. 

Two minutes later, your phone’s screen lights up the dark room. 

sc.eightseven has followed you. 

sc.eightseven has viewed your story. 

You frowned, sitting up slightly in bed, blinking against the glare of the screen. The profile picture was the generic little gray and white head. The bio was completely empty too. The profile was completely locked down and followed only a handful of people, with an even smaller list of followers. 

Curiosity spiking, you tap to see who they follow. 

Nathan Mackinnon. Evgeni Malkin. Kris Letang. Macklin Celebrini. Ray Whitney. Paul Bissonette. Every single one of them were verified and every last one of them followed the completely blank, locked down account back. 

You put two and two together so fast, your head spins.

Sidney. 

The guy who is notorious for having a viseral aversion to any sort of social media, who flat out refuses to be on Instagram or Twitter. The guy that the entire league roasts for being a technology dinosaur. 

Sidney Crosby had a secret Instagram profile. 

Sidney Crosby had a secret Instagram profile and was looking at your stories at 2 o’clock in the morning. 

You request to follow him back, your stomach doing a heavy swoop at the thought of him scrolling through your feed after what had happened between you two earlier in the night. 

Ten seconds later, you get a notification: sc.eightseven has accepted your follow request. 

You could practically picture his jaw clenching in the dark as he realized he’d been caught creeping on your profile in the middle of the night. Maybe he wanted to get caught, you reason. Maybe he was feeling a little reckless like you were after the bonfire earlier in the evening. 

You open up your DM’s and send a message. 

You: You’re up late. 

Sidney’s response takes a minute. Three dots appear…and then vanish…and then reappear three different times. You could practically hear him overthinking from where you sat in bed, could practically picture how rigid his posture probably was, trying to fight his rapidly crumbling composure when it came to you. 

sc.eightseven: can’t sleep either. You okay? 

Before you can even think of a reply, your phone begins to vibrate with an incoming call. 

Sid calling…

For a moment, you just stare at your phone in your palm. You swallow the lump in your throat, sliding the green button across the screen and bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hi.” You whisper softly, slightly embarrassed at how breathy it sounds. 

For a second, you’re met with silence. Then, a rough exhale cuts through the quiet, almost like Sidney was losing his battle with his own head in real time. 

“Hi.” Sidney’s voice is so deep and gruff, your pulse skitters. “I shouldn’t be calling you this late.” 

“Yet here you are.” You point out softly, shifting so you’re laying down again, your quilt pulled up to your chin. “Why can’t you sleep, Sid?” 

Another pause stretches out, thick and heavy. Maway in his own darkened bedroom, Sidney’s jaw twitches as he runs a hand over his face. This was such a monumentally bad idea, and yet here he was. 

“You know why.” He replies thickly. “I keep thinking about the bonfire. The way you looked at me. The way it felt to finally…” Sidney tails off, knowing that he shouldn’t go down that road. Not with you on the other end of the phone. 

“To finally touch me?” You supply, the darkness giving you a shield to be bolder than you normally would be. 

Sidney says your name like a warning.

It doesn't sound like your big brother’s best friend telling you to behave. This warning sounds like a man who was drowning in his desire for you and was desperately searching for a life raft. 

“Don’t do that. You have no idea how hard I’m trying to be good here. Nate is my best friend, he trusts me.” 

“I know.” You murmur softly, the memory of his fingers on your body making your chest ache. “But you’re still on the phone. Still looking at my Instagram in the middle of the night. Still messaging me when you should be asleep.” 

Sidney laughs softly, a rough and defeated sound that has you grinning into the dark. “Yeah, I am. Do you want me to help you fall asleep?"

It takes every bit of control you have not to whimper. Your pulse races as you forget how to speak.

"Sweetheart?" Sidney prompts.

"Yes, please." Is all you can manage.

"Put me on speaker and lay your head down.” 

You blink, surprised, but do exactly as he asks, setting the phone on the pillow next to your ear. “Okay. Now what?” 

“Close your eyes.” The sound of Sidney’s voice and quiet breathing fill the space between your head and the phone, giving you something to focus on to quiet your racing thoughts. “I’ll stay on with you until you’re asleep. Just listen to my voice, sweetheart.” 

Your breath catches at the pet name.

Sidney starts talking in a low, soothing tone, telling you a mundane story about his plans for building an addition on his lake house next summer just to calm your anxiety. He drones on, voice deep and smooth and you find yourself getting sleepy. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to just focus on the sound coming from the speaker of your phone. 

Eventually, you do actually drift off to the sound of his voice. The peace doesn’t last too long though. Sometime around 4am, something startles you awake. You blink away the sleep from your eyes, trying to orient yourself to where you were as a heavy sense of anxiety took root in your chest. 

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be dark and disconnected. Much to your sleepy surprise, the call is still active and the timer is about to hit the two-hour mark. 

“Sid?” You rasp, voice thick with sleep. 

There’s an immediate shift on the other end of the line - the sound of sheets rustling and a familiar rough exhale. 

Sidney hadn’t hung up. 

He hadn’t even gone to sleep. 

He’d just been lying there, awake in the dark, listening to you breathe for the last two hours. 

“Yeah…yeah, I’m here.” Sidney’s voice is rougher than usual, raw with something you can’t quite place. “You okay, baby?" 

Your heart squeezes painfully. 

“Yeah. I guess I just…woke up.” The intimacy of him still being there, of him just sitting there and listening to you sleep made your throat feel tight. “Why are you still awake? You have an early tee time with Nate.” 

A heavy silence stretches between you. You can almost hear the gears turning in Sidney’s head as he tries to figure out how honest he’s going to be with you. 

“Every time I close my eyes, I remember how it felt to have you in my lap tonight, how it felt to wrap my arms around you, how seeing you in my clothes nearly killed me.” He confesses. “I can still smell you on my skin. I am damn near thirty-eight years old and I’m lying here in the dark losing my mind over my best friend’s little sister.” 

Your breath catches, the honesty in his words sending a bolt of heat straight to your core.  

“Sidney…” 

“I’m going to hang up now.” He interrupts, though he doesn’t sound happy about it. “I need to hang up before I get in my car and drive over there to do something stupid we can’t take back. Go back to sleep, okay sweetheart? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The line goes dead before you can even reply, leaving you staring at the dark ceiling, your skin still tingling with left over heat from the bonfire hours earlier. 

The air in the Stubborn Goat is thick with the scent of fried food, popcorn and the heavy, electric buzz of a Saturday night in the middle of the summer. Sidney, Nate, and the rest of the NHLers who spent their off-season training in Nova Scotia had been coming here for years. The owners were hockey guys too and were always more than happy to set aside the entire second floor for the entire crew whenever they decided on a night out. 

Tonight was no different. 

The atmosphere on the top floor of the bar is chaotic and loud. With some of the guys leaving to finish out their summers elsewhere and another group just arriving, the crowd is bigger than usual tonight. 

And you’re right in the middle of it. 

Not long after ordering your third drink, you find yourself completely swallowed up by the group of WAGs on the small, packed dance floor. Charlotte is right next to you, laughing easily, as you finally allow yourself to sink into the warm, protective fuzziness of the alcohol mixed with the thumping bass of the music. 

For what feels like the first time in months, the suffocating weight in your chest is entirely gone. 

You’ve had enough to drink that your inhibitions are beautifully low enough that you’re actually enjoying yourself, dancing with the rest of the girls. Especially since you can feel Sidney’s eyes following your every move through the crowd like a hawk. 

It’s been a full week since that night on the boat. A full week since you’d climbed right into his lap, totally shameless with your desire to finally see what it felt like to have Sidney properly touch you. For the most part, however, he’s kept his distance. Which was beginning to thoroughly annoy you. He’d been an absotle picture of polite all week - not totally ignoring you, but keeping you at arms length just enough so that your skin was feeling entirely too tight and there was an unsettled buzz of anxiety humming in your chest.

Now that you knew exactly how it felt to have his arms around you, what he smelled like up close, how his fingers felt when the curled into your side, you couldn’t think of anything else. 

It was driving you completely insane. 

So, you do what any other woman would do in your position: you decide to make him jealous.

If he wanted to play the stoic, untouchable captain from across the room tonight, you were more than happy to give him a reason to break. 

As one song morphs into another and your drink gets a little bit emptier, you shift your position on the dance floor, subtly maneuvering yourself until you’re directly in Sidney’s line of sight. He’s leaning against one of the heavy wooden high-top tables, a half-empty beer in his hand as he 'listens' to your brother talk animatedly next to him. Sidney isn’t actually listening to a word he’s saying though, you clock that as soon as your gaze sweeps around the edge of the room. His dark eyes are locked entirely on you. 

You can practically feel the heat of his gaze when it snags with yours, the look on his face sending a sharp spark straight up the length of your spine. Laughing at something Charlotte says to you, you throw your head back, deliberately swaying your hips to the heavy rhythm of the music. You catch his eye again through the crowd, just long enough to watch his jaw clench. You smirk seeing the muscle in his cheek tick violently when he realizes what you’re doing. 

You couldn’t be more pleased as you watch him change his grip on the beer bottle in his hands, his knuckles turning white. He looks utterly miserable and entirely consumed by a jealousy the temperature of the sun. 

And then, Parker Wortherspoon helps you spring the trap once and for all. 

“I’ve been watching you all night, YN. I’m risking extra drills on Monday from Nate for this so I really hope you dance with me.” 

Parker steps into your space, a grin plastered across his face. He's radiating an electric, cocky sort of energy that only a young professional athlete who knows how hot he is can pull off.  He doesn’t even wait for an answer, Parker just immediately falls into step with you, his hips moving to the beat just as smoothly as yours are. 

Across the room, Sidney’s posture goes entirely rigid. The calm and collected captain completely vanishes in an instant, replaced by something heated and dangerous. You nearly giggle at how angry he looks.

Seeing Parker’s hand hover anywhere near your waist makes a suffocating wave of possessiveness threatens to pull up under and drown him. He’s 38-years-old, handcuffed by the strict moral code of his own choosing as he's forced to watch from the sidelines as a younger defenseman makes a carefree move on who Sidney knows is his.

Sidney might not make it to tomorrow. 

He might not let Parker make it until tomorrow either. 

You give the younger Penguins player a brilliant smile, batting your lashes up at him as you let your laughter carry across the room. You can feel Sidney’s stare burning a hole through you, tracking your every move. You know you’ve poked the bear and the thrill of it makes your heart hammer frantically against your ribcage. 

After a few more songs, the heat and humidity of the dance floor become too much to handle. You pat Parker’s shoulder with a smile before backing away towards the restrooms. “I need to take a break.” You yell over the music. 

The second you disappear down the hallway, Sidney moves. 

He doesn’t look at Nate. He doesn’t say a word to Kris or Brad or anyone else. He just sets his beer down with a heavy thud and cuts a path straight towards where he knows you’re waiting for him. 

The hallway near the restrooms is dim, illuminated only by a few amber colored sconces and the faint golden glow that bleeds in from the main room. Knowing Sidney’s right behind you, you don’t even go into the bathroom. Instead, driven by a rush of alcohol fueled courage and the insane desire to have him touching you again, you duck into the deepest shadows of the narrow corridor, leaning your back against the cool brick walls waiting for him. 

Sidney rounds the corner a second later, moving with the kind of purpose that only a man on a specific mission can possess. When he spots you standing in the dim light, intentionally waiting for him, his eyes flare with a mixture of jealousy and something sharper that looks a lot like desperate anger. 

You don’t have a chance to even take a proper breath when you hear his footsteps, Sidney pounces on you so fast. He plants a large hand firmly on the wall right beside your head as he flips the brim of his baseball hat around, his massive frame pressing you into the corner without mercy. The professional, morally upstanding NHL captain is nowhere to be seen.

His honeyed brown eyes are wild, pupils blown wide and shadowed with a sharp shock of frustration that makes the air between your bodies spark wildly.  

“Are you out of your mind?” He growls, the sound so dangerous it vibrates right through your chest. He leans down, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and hurried against your lips. “Dancing with Spoons? Deliberately trying to rile me up while I watch you?” 

“And what if I am?” You challenge, lifting your chin in defiance. The adrenaline from the dance floor, from having Sidney watch you when he can’t do a thing about it, races through your veins like wildfire. “You’ve been keeping me at arms length all week. You don’t get to ignore me for days and then play possessive boyfriend the second another guy dares to show me some attention.” 

Sidney lets out a low groan that sounds completely wrecked, his jaw clenching so hard that muscle in his cheek starts twitching again. He takes a half-step closer to you, pinning you to the brick wall with his hips. Your pupils blow so wide they’re almost completely black as his chest heaves against yours. 

“I’m not trying to ignore you.” He bites out miserably. 

Sidney slides one hand up the length of your body, grabbing your jaw firmly so you can't look away. His thumb drags roughly across your bottom lip. 

“I’m trying to keep us from making a massive mistake. Do you have any idea what it’s like watching you from across the room? Knowing Nate is sitting right next to me so I can’t do a damn thing about the fucking boy pawing at you like he even has a chance at handling you like I could? Nate's my best friend, YN. He's the closest thing I have to a brother. If he finds out about us, about how I stay up at night thinking about all of the things I'm going to do to you when I get you in my bed? He’d kill me dead and not bat a fucking eye.” 

“So that’s what I am to you? A massive mistake?” Your voice cracks, the alcohol doing nothing to dull the sharp sting of his words. Placing your hands against his broad chest, intending to push him away, your fingers end up curling into the fabric of his shirt instead. “I refuse to be your dirty little secret, Sidney. If you’re so terrified of our age gap or what my brother would do if he found out, then quit looking at me like you want to eat me alive."

“I can’t.” Sidney whispers, his head dipping down so your foreheads touch. His eyes shutter closed as his grip on your jaw tightens. “Fuck, YN. I can’t let you go. I’ve tried all week to forget how if felt having you sit in my lap that night, to forget how quiet my mind goes when I'm around you. I want you so bad, it’s making me sick.” 

The raw honesty of his words hang heavily in the dim hallway, so thick and suffocating you’re not entirely sure you can breathe. Your chest squeezes painfully as you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, your fingers sifting through the hair at the nape of his neck so you can pull him back down towards you. 

“Then stop fighting it.” You breathe against him. “Nate isn’t in this hallway. No one is.” 

Sidney lets out a ragged exhale, his eyes dropping to your mouth. His entire body trembles with the sheer effort it’s taking to hold himself back, his hold on your jaw turning desperate as he realizes he can’t fight it anymore. 

Before he can close that final gap though, the sharp sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor echoes loudly from around the corner. 

“YN? Are you back here?” 

Charlotte’s voice cuts through the quiet hallway like a dagger. 

Sidney breaks away instantly, stepping back into the shadows as if he’s been burned. His chest heaves violently, his face completely undone as he drags a hand heavily though his hair. You watch was he physically pulls himself back together, shaking his head as he tries to clear the fog of you from his mind. 

You lean heavily against the wall for a beat, your skin burning hot as you frantically try to compose yourself before Charlotte rounds the corner. 

“Yeah! Sorry, got distracted watching this TikTok dad sent me earlier!” You call out, glancing back towards Sidney one last time before you step out of the shadows, like you weren’t completely wrecked inside and out. 

yn_snaps posted!

10,309 likes liked by charlotte_walker, mackcelebrini, spoonzz79, and others yn_snaps out past my bedtime charlotte_walker genuinely thought nate was going to lose his mind when you insisted on sticking your head out the window on the way home >>>nathanmackinnon can confirm. thought we were headed towards a trip to the ER at 2am >>>yn_snaps oops! catherinelaflamme11 sweet girl it was so nice to FINALLY meet you tonight! >>>yn_snaps bby! tell tanger that you're my wife now >>>kletang_58 back off blondie!! user012 wortherspoon up in her likes AND i swear to god i saw them dancing together in mack's snap story >>>user445 intttteresting