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Evgeni is born with a fever.
The doctors whisk him away from his mother and ignore her pleas as they poke and prod at him and try to figure it out.
They can’t find anything wrong with him. His heart rate is normal and the blood tests all come back negative. He cries like a baby should and has a great appetite.
He’s perfectly healthy except for the heat he throws off.
“Magic,” the doctor says as he hands the newborn off to Natalia. She holds him close and feels the warmth of him seeping through the thin blanket they have wrapped him in.
“But we don’t have magic,” Vlad says, “how is that possible?”
The doctor shrugs and answers “magic is still a mystery, it’s hard to say.” He hands them a pamphlet and sends them on their way.
They try to do their best by him but as the doctor said, magic is still a mystery.
It’s not widely discussed or shown off. Most people keep it as a quiet family secret, something that’s passed down from generation to generation that doesn’t leave the confines of the home.
But Evgeni is unique. He’s the first one in the family to have any kind of magic and his parents don’t have anyone to turn to for advice.
Professional training is expensive and severe. Children are taught to suppress their emotions and keep the magic bottled up. Don’t feel. Don’t use it. Act normal.
It’s heartbreaking to watch wide-eyed and joyful children walk into training and come out cold and unfeeling.
It’s like they forget how to laugh or smile or be a kid.
Natalia looks down at her son with his perpetually sad eyes on a smiling face and can’t imagine anything more horrific than stealing away either of those feelings.
They need to find out what his weakness is and go from there. It’s all they can do.
They tell him that he’s special, not different.
What he has is a gift, not a curse but it would be better if he only let it shine while he’s at home around people that he trusts.
Evgeni nods his head and makes the promise to his parents but he is only a boy and that’s an awful big promise to keep.
He goes to school and is the center of attention in the lunchroom when he boils soups and toasts the bread on their sandwiches with just the touch of his finger.
He’s always warm even in the dead of winter and his classmates crowd around him as they walk home.
In the woods behind his house, tucked far behind the trees and out of his mother's watchful eye he entertains them.
He holds the fire in his hand and lets the flame lick at his skin before he twists his wrist and puts it out.
He does it again and again, letting the smoke roll off his hand or throwing the ball of fire into a nearby puddle where he sizzles and steams.
Evgeni comes home with a flushed face and eyes full of life and his mother pretends to not know what he’s been doing.
Maybe he doesn’t have to hide. Happiness isn’t his weakness.
She kisses his forehead and tells him to wash up for dinner, to get the soot out from between his fingers.
He hugs her back and she closes her eyes and feels his warmth.
Hockey is an extension of his happiness.
In the beginning his mother frets, like any good mother would do.
“What if you get hurt?”
“What if you get cold?”
“What if you melt the ice?”
Thankfully Vlad calms her down enough to let him try.
Hockey centers him. It provides enough of a distraction that his magic is taken out of the equation. It’s just him, the puck, his stick, and the way his skates cut through the ice.
The ice never melts beneath him and he’s never too cold and for the most part he remains uninjured.
He scores goal after goal and wins and loses and grows.
His emotions swing wildly and with every slam of his bedroom door his mother holds her breath and waits.
Someday something is going to make him snap and it will throw his magic out of control. Fire is not something that does well on it’s own and without the proper training she’s terrified of what it will do to him.
When Evgeni is eleven he sets his spelling test on fire.
He doesn’t mean to, he isn’t even thinking about it. He’s thinking about Malvina three rows up from him and how pretty her hair looks and how she always says hello to him and seems to care more about him than his magic when suddenly the paper ignites beneath his hand.
His teacher douses it with the tea she has on her desk and then sends him down to talk to the principal.
When he gets home his mother is waiting for him with crossed arms and a worried look etched onto her face.
He doesn’t want to upset her anymore so he lies and says “I thought it would be funny.” His classmates did laugh.
She drops her arms to her side and holds them out to him. Evgeni steps into them and she folds him into a hug.
“Okay,” she says, “it’ll be okay.”
When Evgeni is fourteen he meets Dimitri. He’s new to town and to the school and to the team.
Dimitri is a year older with closely cropped blond hair and green eyes and he plays hockey like a dream.
Evgeni is struck by his power and speed out on the ice and his beauty off of it.
He’s funny and kind and when Dimitri looks at him….he finds it hard to breathe.
He’s overwhelmingly warm from the inside out and he can feel the heat coursing through his veins. Flames are burning beneath his skin. He’s never felt like this before and the first time Evgeni works up the courage to touch him Dimitri flinches back with a guttural scream of pain.
Evgeni lurches back and looks down at Dimitri’s arm and his horrified at what he sees.
The skin on Dimitri's arm where Evgeni’s hand was is an ugly and angry red. It’s bubbling and peeling and Evgeni backs up as Dimitri is crowded by the rest of the team. He hits the wall as someone yells for a doctor.
Slowly, heads turn towards him and Evgeni puts his hands up in trying to show that he’s not a threat but his hands are the weapon.
“I’m sorry,” he stutters out but it’s overpowered by Dimitri still crying in pain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”
The room floods with doctors and Evgeni takes advantage of the chaos to run home.
His weakness is love.
Romantic love.
His magic is uncontrollable when he feels it and there’s nothing he can do about it.
From his bedroom he can hear his mother crying and his father trying desperately to figure out the answer.
It’s too late for training, they all know that. For that to stick he needs to be young and impressionable and he’s years late for that.
“He’ll always be lonely,” his mother sobs and Evgeni closes his eyes and falls back against the pillows on his bed. “He can never feel love.”
“There are other things,” his father says, “he can still have friends and hockey.”
“Hockey is not everything,” Natalia snaps and Vlad’s voice is strong when he answers “it’s going to have to be.”
They move miles and miles away.
“It’s a fresh start,” his father says as he unpacks the boxes that are supposed to be for the living room in the kitchen. “And this hockey program is much better. You’re going to go far.”
Evgeni doesn't tell anyone about his magic. He keeps to himself and focuses on hockey.
His father wasn’t lying, this hockey program is better and before long he’s hearing rumors about scouts and professional leagues.
He tries not to listen to that. He keeps his hands down and his hands to himself and doesn’t let his heart feel more than he should.
On the ice he’s flying but off of it he’s miserable.
He listens to his teammates talk about their girlfriends- one wants to propose even though everyone knows they’re much too young, and watches couples out on street walking hand in hand and kissing.
He wants that. His heart burns for it but there’s nothing to be done.
He jams his hands in his pockets and averts his eyes and thinks hockey, hockey, hockey, until the feeling burns itself out.
The opportunity to play in the states is one that Evgeni knows he shouldn’t pass up but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare him.
If something goes wrong it’s a lot harder to run home to the comfort of his mother’s arms.
“Things are different over there,” she tells him as she runs her fingers through his hair.
His head is in her lap and he never feels like moving.
“But I’ll still be the same,” he says.
“You’ll meet new people,” she answers back, like that’s supposed to be a good thing.
He picks himself up and looks her in the eyes. “That’s the problem. What if I meet someone and I hurt them?”
She kisses his forehead and he squeezes his eyes shut.
It’s not an answer but it’s all she can give him.
Pittsburgh is fast and loud and foreign.
Fans pack the arena night after night and even though he can’t understand more than five words in English he can recognize his own name when they chant it.
It’s hard for him to imagine falling in love with anyone here.
He’s always so busy with games and practices and traveling that he doesn't have time to meet anyone.
Hockey is keeping him grounded and safe and when Sid slams into him after a game winning goal he finally lets himself smile again.
Sid yells and the crowd roars and Evgeni presses his gloved hands between the numbers on Sid’s back and holds him against his chest.
It’s a long flight to Los Angeles and across the aisle Flower won’t stop fidgeting.
He’s tapping his foot and picking at his nails and Evgeni would love for him to settle himself so he could catch a quick nap.
But Evgeni doesn’t have the words to say that and Gonch is already passed out in the seat beside him.
Flower catches his eye and smirks and snaps his fingers a bright yellow daisy appears in his hand.
Evgeni blinks at him and Flower holds it out for him to take.
“Magic,” he says and Flower smiles, like he’s delighted that he knows the word.
“Yeah, you like?”
Evgeni spins the stem between his index finger and thumb. “Pretty.”
“Oh man,” Sid says from halfway down the aisle. Evgeni jostles Gonch awake when he leans back to let Sid by so he can squeeze in next to Flower. “You didn’t tell him about the dandelion, did you?”
“No, but I should, fuck.” He taps Evgeni’s chest and to get his attention. “So I’m minding my own business in the net and this douchebag keeps poking at me and he’s so fucking mad so at a stoppage I bring up a seeded dandelion, you know, the puffy ones and I blow it right in his face. He fucking lost it. He tried to fight me and I would have taken him if the refs didn’t get in the way.”
Sid snorts and Flower rolls his eyes.
“I would have. It’s on YouTube, G, you should look it up.”
Evgeni only caught a few words of that and he turns to Gonch for help.
Gonch shakes his head and says “crazy goalie shit,” and Evgeni nods sagely. Goalies are crazy everywhere, in every country but Flower seems to be on a different level.
“You don’t have a problem with magic, do you,” Flower asks and Evgeni turns to Gonch to translate.
Beside Flower Sid has gone very still and Evgeni shakes his head.
“No. No problem.”
Flower grins and Sid continues digging through his bag for his book. “Good. Glad to hear it.” He knocks his elbow into Sid’s side and then settles back into his seat.
Evgeni gives Gonch another look but he’s already rolled over to face the window.
“Children,” he mumbles as he pulls the blanket up to his chin and shuts his eyes.
After a win in Edmonton he takes a chance and goes out with the rest of the guys.
He shakes his head politely when people offer to buy him a drink and spends most of his time either hanging on Gonch or squeezed into a booth beside Sidney.
Sid’s in an unusually good mood and he laughs with an easy confidence that’s undercut by how ridiculous it sounds.
It’s a tight fit in the booth as Tanger pushes his way in so Evgeni lifts his arm and rests it across the back and Sid slides in beneath it.
Sid tilts his head up to smile at him and all Evgeni can focus on is how his lips are shiny and wet from the beer he’s not supposed to be drinking.
“Thanks,” he says and Evgeni shrugs a shoulder and looks straight ahead. It’s not like he even did anything.
When he glances back down Sid has his head turned away so he can talk to someone further down the table
Out of all of his teammates Sid has been the hardest to understand.
He had no idea someone so young could be so professional or that someone so talented could be so gracious.
He skates circles around most of the guys on the team and it would be so easy for him to allow that to go to his head.
But he is as steady and supportive as they come. All he asks is that everyone play their best and push themselves to be better.
There is no one he pushes harder than himself. He is his own harshest critic and it’s like he can’t believe his own hype.
He is calm and measured in front of the media even after an embarrassing loss and he is one of the only ones who have tried to learn a few words of Russian to make him feel more comfortable. He never turns down a fan when they ask for a photo or an autograph and has a soft spot a mile wide for his teammates kids.
He hasn’t yet grown out of his baby face and his hair after he pulls his helmet off is a curly sweaty mess but there is something about him that makes it impossible to look away from.
Sid stops talking and suddenly turns and catches Evgeni looking. There’s sweat along his hairline and his cheeks are flushed.
“You’re really warm,” Sid says and Evgeni pushes his way out of the booth and away from him.
It takes Evgeni a long time to calm down that night.
He takes a cold shower in an attempt to get his body temperature down and as he stands under the spray he tries to convince himself that this wasn’t his fault.
He doesn’t feel that way for Sid. He can’t. He won’t allow himself.
It was warm in the bar already and everyone was basically sitting on each other’s laps. Of course Sid was warm.
He turns off the shower, rests his forehead against the cool tile and watches the water drip down his body.
He closes his eyes and repeats to himself over and over, it’s not love, it’s not love.
When he looks down again the water is evaporating off his skin.
Three days later Evgeni watches Sid throw his head back and laugh from the other side of the locker room. .
The sound carries and Evgeni’s heart stutters in his chest.
Suddenly Sid stops and presses his hand to his face. Flower puts his hand on his arm and leans in.
The room goes quiet as Sid hands his head and rests his elbows on his knees.
“You okay,” he hears one of the trainers ask and Sid nods.
“Just got really hot really fast,” he says. He holds his hand out and a thick layer of frost appears across his palm and fingers. He presses it to the back of his neck and Evgeni is stunned.
“Magic,” Evgeni says as Gonch sits down beside him.
“Yes,” he says, “you didn’t know?”
Evgeni shakes his head and Gonch nods.
“Makes sense I guess. He doesn’t talk about it much and uses it even less.”
“Ice,” he says dumbly and Gonch nods again.
“Fitting he ended up being who he is, isn’t it? Like fate or something.”
“What’s his weakness?”
“He doesn’t have one.”
“Everyone has one.”
“They trained it out of him before it ever even showed up.”
“They can do that?”
“They can do anything for the right price. His father is the same way and his sister as well. They got him into training as soon as they could. It’s why he can control himself so well.”
Gonch pulls at the collar of his shirt and says “it is very warm in here but I hope he’s not coming down with something.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Evgeni says as he gathers up his things and leaves.
When the Pens host the Little Penguins any hopes of talking himself out of what he’s feeling for Sid die on the ice.
Sid is surrounded by children in tiny Crosby jerseys all begging him to “do it Mr. Crosby, please, make it snow!”
Evgeni has been keeping his distance and trying to keep his mind focused on other things but right now Sid is all he can see.
“Okay, alright,” Sid says and he laughs as the kids scream. “After I do it we have to start paying attention and listening okay?”
There’s a chorus of “yes” before Sid smiles and raises his hands.
A cloud forms between them and he forces it up and above his head. It gets bigger the higher it gets and finally flakes start to fall.
The kids gasp and squeal and when one of them falls over Sid immediately scoops him up and holds him at his hip.
Sid looks across the ice and catches Evgeni’s eye. He smiles and the snow turns to a warm rain.
The only thing Evgeni can do is avoid him.
Things are okay on the ice. Hockey shines through and overrides the magic but as soon the final horn sounds he’s racing down the tunnel so he can change and go home.
He can’t be too close to Sid.
He starts sitting in the back of the bus and the plane so he can put as many seats between himself and Sid as possible.
He doesn’t go out with the team for dinner and every time he turns down an invite it’s like he can feel Sid’s disappointment.
They were friends before this happened and now Evgeni won’t even look at him.
Sid reaches his breaking point after Evgeni refuses to go out in New Jersey.
He thinks he’s safe locked away in his hotel room while the rest of the guys are at dinner but then there’s a pounding on his door and Sid yelling “I know you’re in there, Geno, I’ll stand out here all night, I don’t care.”
Evgeni cracks the door open and Sid shoulders his way in.
“Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” He pauses and pulls the bottom of his shirt away from his chest. “Why do you keep your room so warm? Turn the AC on, what is it, like eighty five degrees in here.”
“Sid-.”
Sid shakes his head. It’s doesn't matter, listen, I know my Russian sucks but I’m trying, okay? You have to tell me if I did something or said something to offend you. I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. If I did it’s because I didn’t know any better and I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is.”
“Not your Russian, Sid.” Although it is terrible, he thinks.
“Then what?” There’s a sadness to his voice that makes Evgeni’s heartbreak and spikes the temperature of the room but another five degrees. Sid wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “Is it just me? Do you just not like me?”
Evgeni’s fingers itch to touch him. He’s heard the stories about the kids he grew up playing against. How they’d try to hurt him on the ice and how their parents would hurl insults at him from the stands. It wasn’t an easy life. It’s still not.
“It’s not you.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you. Avoiding your magic.”
Sid’s mouth sets into a firm line and he squares his shoulders. Even if Sid didn’t have ice magic Evgeni could still be able to feel the cold rolling off him.
“I know some people don’t like magic,” he says. His voice is low and calm but Evgeni can see the ice storm churning in his eyes. “But I can’t help it and I can’t change it. I don’t want to. It’s who I am and I won’t apologize for it. If you don’t like it-.”
“It’s not your magic. It’s mine. Avoiding yours because of mine.”
“You don’t have magic.”
Evgeni barely resists rolling his eyes as he holds up his hand and snaps his fingers together.
Sid’s mouth drops open at the first hint of a spark and by the time Evgeni is holding a ball of fire in the palm of his hand Sid’s eyes are wide and he’s stepping forward.
He quickly closes his hands and the fire burns out in a plume is smoke.
“Geno. That was. Why didn’t I know about that? Have you told anyone?”
Evgeni shakes his head and takes a step back when Sid tries to come closer.
“Can’t tell.”
“Why not? You’re not the only one with magic.” He gestures to himself. “Obviously. But there’s Flower and guys sprinkled all over the league. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Is at home. Have some bad experiences with it. No training.”
“None? None at all? How is that possible? Didn’t your parents-.”
“Parents don’t have magic.”
“But how-.”
“Don’t know, Sid,” he says. He’s getting frustrated with all the questions and he’s trying to hard to control the magic that it’s starting to hurt. It’s really a miracle the whole room isn’t on fire with how close Sid is standing to him. “I just have it and they don’t and I can’t control it when I’m around you.”
"We can figure it out. We can get you help."
"Can't help me, it's too late."
"It's not. Everything is fixable. It'll be okay."
“I don’t understand what that has to do with me.”
“It’s not. I’m hurting you.”
“How?”
“In the locker room when you suddenly got so hot, that was me. In the bar, at the skate with the kids and the snow and the rain….right now. All me. You get too close to me and I will burn you away.”
Why me?”
Evgeni sighs and sits down on the bed. “When I was little I have a crush on a classmate. As soon as I figure it out the paper on my desk catches fire. Few years later it’s a teammate.” He pauses and glances up at Sid. “I think maybe I might love him, you know, like teenagers do, and I touch him and burn his arm. It was so bad, Sid. Don’t want that to happen again.”
"I don't understand," Sid says softly and Evgeni looks down at the hotel carpet and digs his fingernails into his thighs.
"Is love, Sid. Love is my weakness."
Sid is quiet and when Evgeni looks up Sid's watching him with the corners of his mouth pulled up in a smile. "You love me?"
"I didn't mean to," Evgeni rushes out, "it just happened, I couldn't stop it, I'm sorry."
"Shhh," Sid says as he sits beside him. Evgeni tries to scramble away but Sid shakes his head and reaches for him. He stops with his hands in the air halfway between their bodies. "Don't fight it," he says. "Don't be afraid. Just let yourself feel." Evgeni flinches when Sid's hand gets close to his face and Sid pauses for a moment before he continues on. "Trust me."
When Sid's fingertips touch his cheek all he feels is cool skin and the lightest touch.
"How," Evgeni asks and Sid applies a bit more pressure. Evgeni leans into it.
"Love is the only thing that's stronger than magic," Sid says. He moves his other hand to Evgeni's leg and Evgeni covers it with his own hand. "It's like hockey. You're always okay when you're out there, right? It's because you let yourself feel it. You let it take you over. Love is the same way. Once you stop being scared everything else falls into place. Everything is okay. I just wish you had known this when you were a kid it would have-."
Evgeni leans forward and presses their lips together.
Sid makes a surprised noise before he kisses him back. Sid's hand curls around his jaw and Evgeni laces their fingers together. He wants to get closer, he wants to touch. He's waited so long for this.
When he pulls back to take a breath he can see snow swirling around him. They catch the light and sparkle and Evgeni feels safe and warm and loved.