snickfic: text: Geno 71, I'm Score (geno)
[personal profile] snickfic
I was trying to write a treat for Chocolate Box and ended up with something too fanon-y and me-specific to actually gift to anyone. So here, have a Sid/Geno ficlet that is all about how much I like the idea of Sid calling Geno "babe."

~~~

“Hey G, toss me the tape, will you?”

Geno lofted a roll of stick tape Sid’s way. “Thanks, babe,” Sid said.

He’d already moved on to the next thing, picking the tape end off the roll with his fingernail, but then Shearsy next to him made a sound. Sid glanced his way, but Shearsy was now inspecting his skate laces with a peculiar and single-minded focus, and he paid Sid no attention.

Sid scanned the locker room, which was suddenly full of hockey players minding their own business. But Flower was snickering, and Geno—

Geno was bright red. And scowling. His shoulders were hunched in, and his entire posture was the world’s most visible Leave Me the Fuck Alone sign. So Sid did.

--


“Hey babe, can you hand me a menu?”

Geno choked on his water. All the guys at the table watched him with concern while he tried to catch his breath. “Water go wrong way,” Geno rasped finally. “I’m okay.”

A menu appeared in Sid’s place when he wasn’t looking.

--


Geno handed Sid his Yuengling, making a face. “Thanks, babe,” Sid said. Then he stared as Geno’s entire face flushed a splotchy red, all the way to the roots of his hair. Geno muttered something too low for anyone to catch and shoved at Dales until Dales got up and let him out of the booth.

“What’s going on with your boyfriend?” Tanger said, staring after Geno.

“Beats me,” Sid said, although a suspicion had begun to form. He itched to follow Geno, but Geno’d probably hate that. He twisted the cap off his beer and took a swig.

--


That night, once they were inside their own house with the door shut tight behind them, Sid said, “You don’t like it when I call you babe.”

Geno pulled up. Even in the dimness of Sid’s front entry way, his complexion darkened visibly. He shifted uneasily, and his mouth opened, but he seemed at a loss for words.

“It’s fine. I won’t do it anymore. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“No!” Geno caught Sid’s forearm. “No, I—” Sid waited. Sometimes it took Geno a while to get to what he wanted to say, especially when it was about this. About them. “I like,” Geno said finally. A confused silence followed. Geno hung his head. “It’s kind of weird, like kind of thing you call girl, you know?”

“I mean, I don’t call girls that.” Girls were not exactly Sid’s forte, as Geno knew.

“No, but.” Geno shrugged. He wasn’t looking at Sid anymore. “It’s weird, you call me in front of the guys.”

Sid opened his mouth to promise, again, that he would stop, but he paused. He repeated the conversation again in his head. He said, cautiously, “Like a good weird?”

In the low lighting, Geno now looked a little bit purple. His eyes were very wide. Slowly, Sid stepped in closer. Geno was very still – rigid, even. “Hey, babe,” Sid said softly. Geno sucked in a breath. Sid slotted his thigh between Geno’s legs and found that not all of Geno’s blood had rushed to his face. “Hi.”

Geno exhaled, long and slow. He shifted minutely against Sid’s thigh. “Hi, Sid,” he breathed, like a confession.

--


Ten minutes into the argument on the goal-increasing merits of smaller goalies versus larger nets, Sid turned deliberately to Geno. “What do you think, babe?”

Geno sputtered and flushed and squirmed, and then he excused himself to the men’s room. This time, Sid got up and followed him.

END

Date: 2017-02-12 06:14 pm (UTC)
stultiloquentia: Campbells condensed primordial soup (Default)
From: [personal profile] stultiloquentia
YOU TRICKED ME INTO READING HOCKEY RPF. I AM SO IRATE.

it is really adorable and hilarious and i liked it.

But the reason I clicked was to tell you that, while I know practically nothing about hockey, or Sid or Geno, I do know that that boy who grew up about twenty minutes down the road from my childhood home would say, "Hey G, toss me the tape, eh?"

:P

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