#sidtanger

Do I still want him yelling it at Kris in the tunnel like it’s a final boss cutscene? Also yes.

Listen i mean no disrespect but his French accent sounds like he learned it exclusively from airport announcements and angry Montreal taxi drivers. It’s stiff. It’s careful. It’s doing homework.

But.

A Sid–Kris fight in French would be cinema.

Sidney, jaw tight, vowels clenched for dear life, conjugating verbs like they owe him money.

Kris immediately switching to fluent, weaponized Québécois, rolling his R’s, hands flying, fully unhinged.

Sid losing the plot halfway through and defaulting to “tabarnak” like it’s a universal reset button.

Kris escalating purely because Sid’s accent offends him on a cultural level.

It would start tactical and end feral.

Subtitles would give up.

sidney crosby x kris letang

tags: 2006-07 NHL Season, only one bed, internalized homophobia, undernegotiated kink, humiliation kink, biting aplenty, sometimes a ficlet about dry humping on a hotel room floor can turn into an 11000 word character study, nobody in this story has ever heard words like 'bisexual' 'dom drop' or 'aftercare' in their LIVES

“What happened to that solid Sidney Crosby base?” Kris elbows him, catching Sid in the tender spot just below his ribs. It sets them both off again, shoving and pushing, turning into grappling as they roll around in the space between the bed and the wall. 

At some point, Sid grabs a fistful of Kris’ shirt for leverage. Kris slips out of it, cat-quick, like he’s dodging being jerseyed - the shirt ends up flung into some corner of the room, out of their way. They’re not kissing anymore, and if Army were to walk in, it could all still mostly be explained away as playful tussling. It’s just boys-being-boys, burning out energy before bedtime. 

It might even be believable if they weren’t both so hard. 

liar

for the prompt: sid/tanger, geno likes to watch E, 2700 words much love to @lostcol for the beta; you made this story so much better!

When Tanger crosses the room to sit on the bed, Sid stays stuck just inside the door. Zhenya watches him and waits. When Sid finally lets his eyes travel up to meet his, his mouth is set in a tight line and his shoulders are drawn up too close to his ears.

“I’m sorry, G, I should’ve-”

“No. Quiet. Go see Tanger.”

read on ao3

Reunited and it feels so good!

Letang to Crosby, like it’s 2008, like it’s muscle memory, like it always will be.

That wasn’t a goal. That was a love letter in motion. Letang said “go ahead, babe,” and Sid said “say less.”

Somewhere a Flyers fan just burst into tears.

Kris with that mischievous “still got it” look.

Sid looking like he just finished baking banana bread and scoring historic goals in the same hour.

They’re Benjamin Button-ing their careers. And I don’t know if it’s the stretching, the water, the unholy pact with the Hockey Gods—but they’re not aging.

They’re just… becoming more iconic.