#sidmarchy

marchy, captain of the pittsburgh penguins, invites 18 year old sidney to stay in his home for his rookie year. sidney is all nervous and timid because, like, he’s the brad marchand. stanley cup winner, olympic gold medalist brad marchand, and he looks up to him and admires him so much that he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing.

brad does everything he can to make him comfortable because it’s the right thing to do for their new rookie, but really it’s because he has underlying intentions.

he likes sidney’s sweet young face and his pink lips and how his ass curves in every pair of pants he wears.

brad becomes basically a mentor to him, and sidney feels more than lucky to be in the position to get his guidance. brad gives him tips on the ice and sidney listens carefully to his advice. they work well together and brad thinks it’s because of all the time they put aside to really get to know each other and each other’s game.

brad touches sidney a lot but sidney sums it up to just the way brad is. hockey players are touchy, he’s no stranger to that. a hand resting on his back at events or gripping his shoulder supportively is normal for them. it makes him feel good, like he’s doing something right and living up to what was expected of him. he wants nothing more than brad to be proud of him and his hockey.

“Gotta be quiet for me, baby,” Brad grunts out. His hips are snapping forward against Sidney’s ass, lightly rocking him into the wall he’s leaning against, and Sidney can’t think of the last time he’s been fucked this good. Brad is putting so much force into each thrust it feels like the air is being knocked out of his lungs. He rests his head against the cement wall and he almost doesn’t care if someone can hear.

Sidney bites his lip because Brad’s hands are gripping on his waist hard, and he’s sure they’ll leave bruises. He doesn’t care about that either.

They only used spit for lube and it’s burning so good, so fucking good. He likes it when it hurts, likes when Brad is rough with him. He doesn’t want to be treated like this fragile thing that needs to be handled with care all the time, and after he told Brad that’s what he wanted, he’s been surely showing him he can fulfill his wishes.

Sidney’s little “ah, ah, ah’s” are filling the room, coupled with Brad’s low grunting and their sweaty skin slapping together. His head feels empty, like he can’t think.

He can hear Brad chuckle from behind him. “My good boy,” he says.