Work Text:
They were so fucked.
Sidney would lay the blame on Nathan. He couldn't even trust the guy to set a simple phone alarm.
"I did set it," Nathan insisted as he forcefully jammed anything and everything in sight into his suitcase. "I just forgot to change the time zone before I did that."
"We were in California for almost a week!" Sidney pointed out, taking Nathan's lead and shoving his dirty clothes with his clean. This was killing him. He hated sacrificing routine. It made him feel like all kinds of grotesque.
"You're so much better at that kind of thing, Sid. How come you didn't set your alarm?"
Sidney could feel his blood boiling. "Because you said you hate the sound of my ringtone and wanted to use yours instead."
"Oh yeah." Nathan giggled.
Sidney grunted as he frantically yanked at his zipper to close. This whole trip was Aunt Kathy and Uncle Graham's idea. Take him to California, they said. He idolizes you, they said. You're going to spend your summer doing nothing anyway so you might as well take Nathan and do something fun because going to Whole Foods is not a vacation, Taylor said.
(For the record, Whole Foods wasn't just a grocery store. It was a lifestyle. It was a wonderful place. Who was anyone to judge if someone went there for the pleasure of it?)
"The cab's here," Nathan remarked at the flash of the headlights pulling up to the driveway of their rented AirBnB.
Sidney cursed out his mother as well as their lord and saviour when he looked down realized that he hadn't even gotten dressed.
"Just go to the airport like that," Nathan suggested with a shrug. "That's basically what everyone does anyway."
He scrutinized his attire quickly against the full-length mirror adjacent to the front door. He had an old t-shirt from his alma mater with a hole near the bottom hem and matching black sweats that had pilled beyond decency. Did he dare?
Sidney grabbed his favourite Pens cap and yanked it backwards over his bedhead to complete the ensemble. "Let's go."
They were still very, very fucked. Security at LAX was hell as per normal. They hadn't even eaten breakfast (the most important meal of the day, he always told his students) and yet Sidney was sprinting towards the boarding gate at full speed. His students would never need to know about this hypocrisy.
"Sid, wait up!" he could hear Nathan calling from a distance.
"I'll get there first and stall the line!" Sidney called back, never breaking a stride.
Probably should've. Had he, he could've avoided a very public and very humiliating collision with a very well-dressed, very well-groomed, probably very rich young professional.
His passport and boarding pass flew right out of his hands but he at least (mercifully) stayed on his feet, as did the other man. Sidney was practically in the other man's arms.
"Whoa there," said the nice smelling, firm gripping cute ginger (oh God, Sidney was pathetic).
"I'm so sorry," Sidney managed between bouts of hyperventilation. There was enough content between yet another socially mortifying moment and experiencing said mortifying moment while he was in such a repulsive state (and in front of dozens upon dozens of fellow travellers) to haunt his psyche for years and years to come.
He just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Cute Ginger smiled and reached down to retrieve their scattered documents.
"I," Sidney blurted after catching his breath. "I thought I was going to miss the flight. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Cute Ginger winked and Sidney felt like hyperventilating again. He opened one of the two Canadian passports. "This one's yours, Sidney Patrick Crosby." He paused on the page before handing it over. "Look a lot hotter in person than in this photo."
Sidney felt his whole body flush with embarrassment.
"I'm Cl-"
"Oh my God Sid, that was hilarious," Nathan cut Cute Ginger off as he came to a stop beside them, panting with exertion. "It was like..." He did a hand gesture (with accompanying sound effects) to demonstrate an explosion, then laughed and hipchecked Sidney like they did on the ice.
"Here's your boarding pass." Cute Ginger said quickly, shoving it into Sidney's hands and rejoining the quickly growing line.
"T-thanks," Sidney called weakly, seeing the slicked back ginger hair disappear through the increasing throng of passengers.
They squeezed their way through the narrow walkways, trying to find their seats in the packed to capacity airplane. Both he and Nate preferred aisle seats, which meant sitting with complete strangers (which Sidney was becoming used to, having to take public transit from time to time when navigating downtown Toronto, but still despised at any rate).
He looked down again at the seat number printed on his boarding pass, then up a few aisles to where 28C would be located...
Slicked back ginger hair was in 28B.
Sidney grabbed Nathan's sleeve to stop him from moving further along the walkway (and toward impending doom). "Nate, switch seats with me," he hissed.
Nathan turned to him, nose scrunched. "Why?" Before Sidney could even consider formulating a passable reason his cousin observed the seating arrangements just ahead and smiled knowingly. "Not a chance in hell, Siddo."
Was it possible for a plane to burst into flames while still boarding? There was a first time for everything and Sidney was very much in favour of experiencing that particular phenomenon.
The impatient glares of the flight attendants and fear of another public mishap was enough for Sidney to shrink obediently into his assigned seat.
He turned to Cute Ginger and smiled weakly, praying that he wouldn't receive a scowl (or worse) back, opening themselves up for the wonderful opportunity to sit together in complete, comfortable silence for six hours. He hadn't even showered or brushed his hair that morning. Did he smell offensive? Was Cute Ginger going to make a scene about demanding a seat change? May as well. Why not compound one humiliation with another?
Cute Ginger instead returned the smile and began plucking off his earbuds.
Oh God oh God why did he have to meet this handsome, well-dressed stranger while looking like he'd bartered with homeless men for clothing?
Cute Ginger's eyes flickered briefly at Sidney's attire and for a terrifying moment he thought maybe this man could actually read minds. "You go to U of T?"
Sidney re-examined the "University of Toronto" text plastered over his tee and its crest on his sweatpants. "Uh, yeah. I mean, I went. I graduated already."
"Really?" Cute Ginger twisted towards him. "When did you graduate?"
He explained to Cute Ginger-aka Claude Giroux by his own admission-that he'd attended the school for his undergrad, completing it in 2009. After taking a year off to gain some hands-on experience he went back to complete his Master of Teaching, graduating in 2012.
"I started law school there in 2010. We both attended the same school for two whole years. I never saw you there at all. Would've noticed a guy like you." The corner of Claude's lip curled up.
Sidney recognized, vaguely, that he was being flirted with. He wasn't expecting to be flirted with, especially by an attractive guy with a JD. This was all too much for him to deal with in his current (revolting) condition. "Well, you know, it's a pretty big school. And I was really just in the OISE section during that time."
Claude nodded. "Elementary or high school?"
"High school."
"Teachables?"
"My two main ones are physical education and history. Technically I can teach nine and ten science but I like doing PE and history the most."
"Strange combination. I mean, PE makes sense. You look like you'd be a PE teacher." There was the upper lip curl again.
Sidney could definitely feel himself blushing. Another diversion was in order. "How about you? What do you do now?"
"I'm a lawyer," said Claude with unexpected hesitation. "I mean, I'm just starting out. Passed the bar just a few months ago."
"Congrats," Sidney wasn't too familiar with the profession but it sounded like a genuine accomplishment. "What areas of law do you... uh... do law stuff?"
"You mean practice?" Claude supplied, likely unaware of the laughter-concealing snort from Nathan just another seat away in 28D. Claude's smile, on the other hand, was more reassuring. "My main focus is labour and employment law. I guess not super exciting like criminal law but the firm I work at does some stuff for the NHL."
"Really? You work with the NHL?" Sidney couldn't help but blurt. Sidney wasn't a big talker but once someone started the subject of sports (or history) then it was very difficult to shut him up. "Do you like hockey?"
"Love it. Loved it since I was a kid."
Sidney was just bursting to say more but was cut off by the pilot's announcement that they were getting ready for take off. He'd have to bite his tongue until then.
The moment they'd reached cruising altitude Sidney turned back to Claude to ask him whether he played or not but Claude beat him to the punch, gesturing towards Nathan (who seemed to be only pretending to watch the movie in front of him). "How come you're not sitting with him?"
"We both like aisle seats. It's our first trip together." He didn't know why he found it necessary to say the second part.
"Oh." Claude's face seemed to darken. "He's like, your... partner?"
"You mean boyfriend?" Nathan jumped in, leaning in closer. "No way man, not like that. I'm his cousin. But if we weren't related and I was gay and a few years older I would totally date Sid. He has his own place, he's fit and both our dads still have all their hair." He smiled widely at them both.
This was definitely going to be his and Nate's last trip together.
"Oh, well... your cousin sounds like a great guy," Claude murmured, looking startled.
"Yeah. Plus he's really good with kids. He volunteers as a little league hockey coach during the season. And he plays too. That's how he maintains that rockin' bod. No idea how he's still single."
Sidney glared at Nathan with the universal "Shut the hell up" pointed look. Nathan grinned back but at least took the hint and popped his earbuds back in.
"Big hockey fan, are you?" Claude sounded impressed, so at least Sidney's humiliation was not in vain.
"Yeah," because Sidney was not ashamed of how much he loved the sport. "Always have been."
"What's your team?"
Sidney took the brim of his cap and turned it frontwards. Claude's eyes widened and seemed to chuckle to himself.
"Pens fan huh?"
Sidney nodded. "And yours?"
"I'd rather not say. At least, not until we get to Toronto. Don't want to cause an emergency landing." The left corner of Claude's mouth slipped up again.
If someone told Sidney that he'd have to talk to a complete stranger for six hours straight he'd have nothing short of an anxiety attack.
But Claude didn't even feel like a stranger anymore, and when those six hours were up and they'd landed safely at Pearson Airport, Sidney was left in want of more.
They walked out together through customs and to the baggage claim. Nathan seemed to be keeping a purposeful distance.
Through the course of their conversation he'd admitted to Claude that he had a secret project to occupy himself during the hockey off-season and summer break: write a compelling argument to the school board for a new course he wanted to inaugurate and teach called "The History of Sports".
"I'm just not sure if they would view the subject as academic enough," was Sidney's biggest lament.
"I can see the academic merit in it," Claude said. "Sports is part of culture. High schools have film and art history classes nowadays. So why not sports? These athletes perform with their bodies and they're heroes to many people and deserve as much recognition as anything else. Why can't the accomplishments of a top athlete be on the same scale as a captain in a war? They're doing something noteworthy and not slaughtering hordes of people in the process. They shape the world and they change history. If that's not worth studying then I don't know what is."
Sidney grinned. "Those are great points."
Claude shrugged and returned Sidney's grin. "I am a lawyer after all. Negotiation comes naturally to me."
"God I wish I had your brain. You'd write a much better proposal in a day than I could in an entire lifetime."
Claude paused, head tilted slightly, then dug into his suit jacket and produced a business card and a pen. He flipped the card over and quickly scrawled on the back. "If you ever want to meet up to brainstorm more ideas or talk or whatever just gimmie a call."
Sidney accepted the card from Claude's outstretched hand. "Oh. Um. Sure. Thanks."
"It was really nice meeting you, Sidney. Hope to hear from you." He turned and gave a little salute to Nathan and departed with his luggage.
"Oh my God," Nathan exclaimed the moment Claude was out of earshot. "You got his number. He totally wants you."
Sidney could do nothing else but stare at the stark black digits against the white background. "I... maybe."
"I helped. You're welcome by the way."
Sidney scowled. "I didn't need your help."
"Of course you did. Your conversation was sinking before I intervened. He wasn't even interested until I brought up all your best assets." Nathan snickered like the teenager he was.
"He called me hot before you even showed up to the gate," Sidney couldn't help but point out.
"Of course you're hot. You're related to me."
Sidney looked at the business card again. It felt heavy and expectant between his fingers.
"Are you gonna call him?"
"I don't know," Sidney murmured, feeling another rising blush.
"Why the hell not? If you can find even one reason not to call him then you'll probably be alone the rest of your life. The guy couldn't be more your type. He's around your age, he has a good job and a good education, he's passably attractive and he likes hockey. Am I forgetting something?!"
The realization hit Sidney suddenly. "I need to call him."
Nathan brightened. "There you go Sid! I'm glad you're-"
"He never told me which NHL team's his favourite."
Nathan sighed. "Of course."
"I still can't believe you're going on a date with a Flyers fan," Nathan mused a few days later, sprawled on top of Sidney's neatly made bed. That itself, coupled with the fact that Nathan was lying on Sidney's covers in his outdoor clothing, was enough to set off Sidney's self-diagnosed OCD.
But in this particular instance, he had more important things with which to be concerned.
"It's not a date," Sidney corrected, contradicting this point by rifling through his closet for his best "I'm not vain but I care enough about maintaining myself to look good but not too good because other things are more important" outfit. "We just agreed to meet at Starbucks and brainstorm arguments for the new course I want to propose."
"Sounds like a date to me."
"I don't even know for sure if he's gay," Sidney pointed out. "I'm not doing anything stupid until I actually hear those words come out of his mouth. Trust me, some guys are just naturally charming. I've been burned enough times to not make that mistake again." Some of them were also really nice brothers on the lookout for their single sisters. To this day he still couldn't look his colleague Phil in the eyes.
"Look, I don't have gaydar or whatever you want to call it. But someone who barely knows you will not offer to help you do your freaking homework unless that person's hoping to get something out of it. Like some deep dicking."
"Nate! Stop!" Sidney could feel himself blushing down to his neck.
"It's true and you know it."
Sometimes he wished Nathan wasn't so accepting of Sidney's sexual orientation. Sidney didn't like to talk about his personal life very much and being gay was like a natural barrier that most people clung to in order to avoid such conversations. Not Nathan though. He stormed right through it.
Oh who was Sidney kidding? He loved Nathan for having a heart as open as his mouth. (Most of the time. This might have not been one of them.)
"If it's not a date then why are you taking so long picking out what to wear?"
"What, can't a guy want to look nice?" Sidney shot back with a scowl. "And the guy is a freaking lawyer. I don't think young, handsome lawyers need to waste time on people who don't seem like they even know how to dress themselves properly."
"Dude. The guy thought you looked good in your ratty old PJs. I'm pretty sure he's more interested in what's under your clothes."
Sidney's scowled even more. "If we weren't related I'd probably never talk to you ever again."
Nathan had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If we weren't related and I was a few years older and gay-"
"Finish that sentence and I'm telling Aunt Kathy about what happened at Disneyland. When you cried-"
"Okay okay, I was kidding, geez," Nathan said hastily, eyes downturned. "But it wouldn't kill you to be a little more proactive."
"I called the guy, what else do you want?"
"Remember that Russian guy you dated? The med student? Maybe if you'd opened yourself more to him he would have been more willing to stay in Canada to find work."
Sidney shook his head and snapped "What do you know about love? You're nineteen," to distract himself from wallowing again about what could have been with Geno. It wasn't meant to be, it would have never worked, he chanted in his head over and over again.
"I know that you attract high calibre suitors and maybe if you tried a little harder then you could actually keep one. You just need to tell them how you feel so they feel wanted too. Take a chance. Show some vulnerability. Be honest and all that."
"If I say that I think you're full of shit does that count as telling you how I feel and being honest and all that?"
Nathan scowled, crossing his arms and snapping his head to the side for dramatic effect. "Last time I try to help you with your love life."
Pleased, Sidney snapped up a shirt and pants combo and held it against his body for Nathan's critique. "What do you think?"
When Nathan looked up, his eyes practically bulged. "What's less mean, telling you that I now have a complete understanding of why you're still single, or that before this moment I never thought a colour-blind gay man could ever exist?"
Over non-sweetened iced green teas at Starbucks they talked about how they came to love their respective favourite hockey teams ("Sure Lemieux's scored a lot of goals, but he's a forward and that's his job. What Hextall did was even more impressive." "What was that, try to turn the NHL into the UFC?" "He was the goalie fights pioneer, Sidney. Forget the Rocky statue, they should erect a Rextall statue."), how they came to love their respective professions ("I love kids." "I love arguing with people and taking their money."), how they came to love their new home city ("Except the Leafs are pretty terrible." "Even I can't make a counter-argument against that.").
What they didn't talk about, however, was the proposal. Or Claude's sexual inclinations.
Sidney glanced at his watch and did a double take. "Oh my God. I'm late. I promised to take Nate zip-lining today."
Claude rose up with him. "I'm so sorry. I got carried away. I just-I really like talking to you. I'm really happy to have met you."
Sidney returned the compliment, willing himself not to blush more than he already was.
"We didn't get to do any brainstorming for your History of Sports course. I even-"
Sidney didn't even notice that Claude had brought a briefcase with him until he propped it up from its perch on the floor. In doing so the locking mechanic clicked open unexpectedly, scattering papers and pens all around them.
The majority of the patrons-and the baristas-turned to stare.
Claude appeared momentarily paralyzed with horror. And, well, Sidney's education (and fine, maybe Nathan too) did at least teach him one thing: if you didn't learn from history then you were doomed to repeat it.
He deftly swept up all of the strewn material and quietly led Claude out of the coffee house under the gaze of almost two dozen pairs of eyes. They'd at least had the luxury of escaping from the witnesses this time.
"I'm so sorry Sidney. I-God, that was embarrassing. Everyone saw that." Claude looked dejected as he plunked himself down on a nearby bench, burying his face in his hands.
Sidney sat down beside him, absentmindedly flipping through the pages. The contents looked... very well-researched.
"You have citations in this," Sidney noted, feeling split between impressed and inadequate.
"I just..." Claude let his hands drop down from his face but kept his eyes to the ground. "I wanted to impress you."
"Wanted to impress me?" Sidney repeated, because one of the learning strategies he'd always taught to his students was to reiterate phrases or concepts they didn't understand.
"I mean, you're interesting and smart and nice and gorgeous beyond belief, and..." Claude sighed. "I'm just fooling myself if I think I could be good enough for you."
"Good enough for me?"
"I even asked my roommate Brayden to help me get ready for today. And he's straight. Isn't that pathetic?"
Sidney wasn't even sure what to say to that.
Claude sighed again. "I'm not usually like this. But I really like you and wanted to impress you and failed miserably. Believe me, I am not accustomed to failure." Before Sidney could even think of a response Claude rolled right along. "That's not true. I've lost my fair share of cases. And boyfriends. Sorry. When I get nervous I tend to talk a lot. You've probably noticed that."
"So... you're gay?" Sidney ventured.
Claude's head snapped toward Sidney. "You're..." he groaned, burying his face back into his hands. "You're straight. Of course you are." Then, to himself, "Stupid, stupid Claude, don't you ever learn?"
"No no, I am gay," Sidney quickly clarified. "I just wanted to make sure of the fact that you were too."
"Was it not obvious? I guess with you it might not be. You're probably used to admirers, straight or gay. You probably turn down guys that are smarter, richer and better looking than me all the time." Claude snorted. "Like I stood a chance."
"Actually," Sidney couldn't help but grin because he was seeing this different side of Claude, and he had to say, it was kind of cute. Vulnerable, as Nathan would say. "I thought I wasn't going to be good enough for you."
Slowly, Claude lifted his face out of his hands. "Come again?"
"I mean look at you. How many people your age are already lawyers? You're funny, you're smart, you're handsome, you get to work with the freaking NHL and travel all around the continent for your job. You know how much travelling I do for my job? The gym to the history room. Sometimes it takes me the full four minutes between periods to walk from one to the other. And this?" Sidney gestured down to his attire (a fitted blue polo with dark wash jeans, thanks Nathan). "If I wore this to work my students would look at me and say 'Coach Crosby, why are you so dressed up today? Are you going on a date?'" He smiled widely, waiting for Claude to take the bait.
Claude at last smiled back, pressing their shoulders together. "I really like you, Sidney."
"I really like you too, Claude."
"You really think I'm funny and smart and handsome?"
Sidney shrugged. "Had me fooled."
"You'd be the first then," Claude said, the corner of his mouth twitching up. Sidney laughed.
"When can I see you again?" Claude blurted as they made their way to the parking lot.
"Nathan's flying back home to Cole Harbour in three days. After that, I'm pretty much free for the rest of the summer."
They quickly made plans for dinner the day after Nathan's departure, then further plans to go golfing the following week (it was, after all, the off-season).
"So this was a date to you, huh?" Claude elbowed Sidney playfully, cautiously. His smile looked hopeful.
Sidney shrugged but uncrossed his arms to let Claude move in closer. "Seemed like one to me."
"So tell me Sidney," Claude took the invitation to step in between Sidney's legs. "Do you kiss on first dates?"
Sidney shrugged again, letting his hands rest on Claude's waist. "If they're good first dates."
"Was this a good one then?"
Sidney didn't hesitate to let Claude know.