Just Too Good

SIDNEY CROSBY ONE SHOT

Okay, so, I’m surely not one of those people that are “Looney Crosby” fans. Those dedicated fans, that show up with giant posters or crazy sayings. I mean, yeah, I work with the guy, and I just so happen to be acquainted with him, but I’m not even close to the dude. I hang with the players that goof off. You know, Talbot, Staal, Dupuis, Fleury. Those guys I hang with. Not mister “ NHL’s Golden Boy”. Don’t get me wrong, he’s okay. He pretty talented, and slightly attractive. But I just don’t like him.
I skated over to Bylsma and leaned against the board. He looked down at my five foot frame and smiled lightly, hitting my helmet. It was something most of the Penguins did to me. I was used to it. Since I’ve been around these boys my whole life, I practically play with them also.

“ Hey, Shorty, get over to Sid and play one-on-one, okay?” Bylsma asked me. Just what I wanted to do. I’d rather take shots to the stomach by Staalsy. I thought. I slightly grimaced when I heard a bang against the boards. I sighed and slowly skated towards Sidney near the far net. He was taking shots to the net. I got up behind him and waited for him to finish. Clearly he was too into taking shots to even realize I was behind him. I sighed inwardly and said,
“Hey.” he looked up from the chipped ice and looked at me. He nodded and went back to doing shots. I was pretty sure I had a look of annoyance on my face.
“Oh, so I’m not good enough for words?” I lightly joked to him. He stood up from his crouched position, towering me with his tall frame. Looking down at me, he asked,
“ Too good enough… what do you want?” Slightly confused, I said,
“ One-on-one order?” he nodded. He skated to get the pucks back near us. Got a puck and skated over. We bent our knees, lowered our sticks to the ice.
“ Three… two… one!” he yelled out. We hit the puck together, causing it to shoot out to the right of the net. When caught the puck, I instantly went into “Defense Mode”. It what I always play. It feels right to me. Standing near the net, watching his moves.
“ You are NOT getting this in Crosby!” I yelled at him. A smirk playing against my face, oh yes, I feel a bet coming on. What? Every player does this.
“Oh really? You sure about that? What do I win if I get it in?” A small smirk was also tugging against his rather large lips.
“ I don’t know. What do you want?” I hollered back. He began to ponder for a bit. I knew he was stalling, and for a slight second I was scared. What was he up to? I was unsure.
“ A kiss!” he yelled. I froze. What, did he just say? He wanted a kiss? My mind was screaming out of control. Did he actually like me? But we barely know each other. Or was this just the satisfactory of knowing he will get what he wants, when he wants it, all the time? No, cant be. He’s not that rude. I squinted my eyes at him. He’s just standing there in the middle of the empty rink… Empty?! My eyes widen as I looked around Mr. Glory himself. I looked at the big screen above us, and realized it was five past eleven p.m.!
I looked back at him.
“Deal.” I responded. He looked shocked. But surely went back to playing. I got ready near the net. He took off, pro-skating at me. He then slowed down just a bit, and slapped the puck at me. I slammed my stick near it to redirect it. I felt it hit my stick, but when I looked it bounced over my stick and went in the net, before I could even react to it. Slightly cursing at the puck, my stick, myself and Sidney, I could hear him cheering slightly.
I sighed and skated to him. I took off my helmet, gloves, and placed my stick on the bench. He followed my actions as well. We we’re both sweating some what. I skated up to him and put my finger on his chest,
“Alright, Mr. Hot In The Britches, claim your prize quickly. I’m tired, sweaty, an-” but before I knew it, I was cut off by a pair of soft warm lips. Shocked, I stood there for a couple seconds, but responded quickly after that. I placed my other hand on his rosy cheek, while his arms went to the back of my head in my hair. His lips we’re addicting, no matter how unusually big they were. A soft drug that you keep coming back for more.
We parted, and rested our foreheads together. Each our breathing slightly altered.
“ Never did I realize how amazing that would be…” Sidney whispered. I nodded, acknowledging his statement. Neither would I have.
“ Your just too good…” he continued, again that statement..
“ What do you mean?” I asked him. He smiled lightly and answered,
“ How you joked that you weren’t good enough for words? Way off, you’re just too good for words.” he whispered to me. He placed a soft kiss on my lips just after. I didn’t care, I suppose I fell in love with Mr. Golden Boy.