I Left The Lights On So You Stumble In Devotion

Evgeni, followed by many of his other teammates, spent most of the game glaring over the bench every time Zetterberg would step onto the ice. Not only was he shadowing Sidney, making every one of his plays look belittled, but he wasn’t getting the penalties he should have. It angered him to know that after all of this, they’d still be the ones getting shit about the referees at the end of the day.

Even though he’d gotten the first goal of the game, he’d also gotten the first penalty. Detroit was up three goals, and it was obvious that they weren’t going to bounce back this game. This would be it, they’d lose the first two games in the series; it was looking all too familiar to the previous year. The thought of last year was in everybody’s head and eyes, but nobody wanted it on their tongue as they made small conversation on the bench.

“We need another one.” muttered Max, the two of them standing up as they made their way to the ice to face-off.

Evgeni made his plays, trying his hardest to get a scoring chance for himself or one of his linesman. He continuously tried to set up Max for a shot, finding himself growing in frustration every time he’d miss a pass or end up shooting too hard or too soon. Zetterberg would glide past him, keeping up to his strides and surrounding him to make his shift more difficult. It was working. It was messing up Evgeni’s thoughts and strategies, every small push and shove making his blood boil just a little bit more.

Finally, he took a shot after getting the puck cycled over to him. He watched as Max desperately tried to shove the rebound into the net, frowning as he watched it fail. Then he was gliding, circling around the net to find Kunitz with his arms around a player wearing red. Suddenly, he just found himself completely enraged with a tempting Henrik Zetterberg in front of him.

He fought, hopelessly and desperately, putting emotion into every punch that he expressed with his fists. He put the rulebook in the back of his thoughts, trying not to think too much as he followed Zetterberg while still attempting to punch him. Eaton and Satan were watching him intently, he noticed a referee trying his best to break them up. There was no way he was going to stop now, though, not right now.

Henrik didn’t fight back strongly, but he did manage to rip off Evgeni’s jersey. Evgeni didn’t care, his jersey falling out of his hands as he felt a hand on his back; it guided him off of the ice. Hands patted his back as he left the entrance through the bench, fans staring down at him through the stands.

He waited in the dressing room, knowing that everybody would soon be filing in; he was prepared to be shunned, especially for instigating a fight in the last five minutes of the game. This would not be good, he would be pushing Bylsma’s buttons to the extreme.

***

After practically being avoided by most of his teammates, including Sidney, Evgeni sat secluded from everyone on the flight back to Pittsburgh. He wasn’t wearing the headphones like most of them, playing PSP or sleeping; it would be hard to sleep with the pressure of playoffs pushing on his shoulders. Every now and then he’d look up a few seats at where Sidney was sitting, half-hoping that he’d even turn around and yell at him like a misbehaved child rather than sit there silently.

The plane landed around noon, giving them all a chance to go home and rest up before going to practice again. Evgeni didn’t feel like practicing, but he knew that he would have to show. Apparently he’d lucked out, he wasn’t going to be suspended. As much as he was happy with this decision, as most of the team was, he couldn’t help but hate the fact that they’d let him off. He didn’t want to hear all of the talk about being favoured by the officials.

Bylsma wasn’t pleased, and he let Evgeni know that for sure. Evgeni was sure that if he wasn’t such an important player, he would’ve been benched. First Jordan, then Sidney, now Zetterberg; he had to begin keeping his fists to himself, ignoring the feelings that ran through his veins and up to cloud his head and judgement.

Driving home alone, he was happy to think that his parents wouldn’t be back in Pittsburgh until a day later. The thought of his empty, silent apartment enthralled him. He stepped into his chilled apartment, throwing his bags onto the floor in a heavy motion; his first instinct was to pass out on his couch, but instead he dragged himself to his shower. He spent a short while observing his new bruises in the mirror before showering. The occasional outlines of purple on his body explained why it now hurt when he’d move his body into certain angles.

He stood in the shower, staring at the shower head while the water would continue to pour out on him. The water was still hot, making parts of his skin turn a bit rid from the heat. He could have stood there for hours, which he had planned on doing, until he heard the knocking coming from his door. He grimaced, hoping that it wasn’t his parents there already.

Evgeni threw a towel around his waist, leaving the bathroom and walking slowly towards his door while water dripped off of him and onto the floor; he turned around to notice large footprints leading from the bathroom to where he stood, puddles of water forming.

“Evgeni, if you’re there, answer your door.”

Evgeni stopped, his hand inches away from the door. Sidney’s voice was still ringing in his ears, making Evgeni nervous to think that he was just standing outside his door. Was he angry? Was he going to yell?

“Hold on.” replied Evgeni, giving in to his heart and deciding to say something so Sidney wouldn’t leave.

Evgeni fidgeted around a bit with his towel, tightening it around his hips. A part of him hoped that maybe Sidney would be too distracted to be distraught with him, or maybe he wasn’t mad to begin with. He slicked his hair back a bit, shaking it to get some of the water out of it.

“What are you doing?” Sidney sounded impatient. Evgeni groaned, knowing fully well that he was going to get yelled at.

“Hold on.” repeated Evgeni, finally grasping his fingers around the doorknob and opening it.

Sidney’s hair was wet, much like Evgeni’s; but Sidney was fully dressed, a baggy sweater hanging off his thick chest and jeans tightly drawn around his thighs. Evgeni couldn’t detect any sort of emotion from the expression on Sidney’s face, it was quite plain.

“Sorry, I just… had to come over.” muttered Sidney, his eyes lingering on Evgeni’s face for a while before drifting down to where the towel rested at his hips. “I guess I should’ve called…”

“It is okay.” Evgeni turned around, pushing the door open wider for Sidney to enter and follow behind him.

Evgeni was surprised to see that Sidney was following behind him in the hall instead of sitting out in his living room to wait for him to change. He walked into his bedroom, feeling slightly uneasy as Sidney shut the door and locked it behind him. Sidney dropped onto the right side of his bed, both of his hands grabbing against the front of Evgeni’s towel to make Evgeni topple down onto the bed as well. It was hard for him to keep his towel closed up, but Sidney’s eyes were shut anyway.

“Uh…”

Evgeni tried to sit up, pushing his legs off the side of the bed; but Sidney rolled over, hauling him tightly into his chest. It was awkward. For the first time, Evgeni wished that Sidney would talk or say anything, really.

“Stop moving around, just stay here for a while.” mumbled Sidney, his eyes fluttering open to gaze over at Evgeni.

Evgeni remained silent, as usual, because even if he’d wanted to say something he was at too much of a loss of words to begin and Sidney showed no sign of wanting to talk. Normally Evgeni couldn’t maintain eye contact, finding it too difficult to remain consistent with one’s eyes.

“It is okay.” said Evgeni, unsure of whether or not it was what Sidney wanted to hear.

Because, deep down, Evgeni knew that this wasn’t okay at all; he knew he wouldn’t have to lie to Sidney to make him feel better, because Sidney was smart enough to have figured it all out for himself. This was the Stanley Cup finals and they were down two to nothing, this was the exact same as last year. It wasn’t good enough, and the feeling that they just hadn’t played their best was stuck in his chest.

Sidney rolled over onto his side, eyes still wide open and gazing; Evgeni could sense some sort of awkward tension between them. Sidney’s hand weighed heavy against his thigh, sometimes drifting higher or lower. Evgeni just laid there, still completely unsure of what to say or do. Droplets of water still laid on his skin around his shoulders, but his towel only just barely clung to his hips; Sidney’s hand would cause it to open a little more than Evgeni liked, leaving Evgeni feeling even more awkward than usual.

“Where are your parents?” asked Sidney, his breath heavy in Evgeni’s ear.

“Not here until tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Evgeni closed his eyes when he saw Sidney moving closer, lips slightly puckered out towards him. Sidney’s body was generally on top of him now, and Evgeni nearly jumped a few inches off of the bed when Sidney’s hands fumbled with the knot he’d tied into the towel. That towel was the last bit of comfort Evgeni had, so it was not pleasing to hear it land on the floor next to him.

Wet kisses trailed along his moist skin, beginning at his neck and ending around his left hipbone. He would have opened his eyes if he didn’t think he’d throw up the contents of his stomach at the sight of Sidney‘s positioning, his nerves churning his stomach and nearly breaking him into a cold sweat. A part of him instantly assumed that Sidney would be the death of him, and another part said ‘well, it seems pretty good right now’.

“Are you okay?” Evgeni opened his right eye, peering down and seeing Sidney frowning at him with curiosity.

“Fine.” muttered Evgeni, his eye shutting again.

Although Evgeni knew what was coming, it was still shocking to feel Sidney’s mouth seem to engulf parts of him that didn’t seem as though they should fit. Evgeni felt himself question Sidney’s honesty, because for someone who’d only been with one man besides him, he certainly knew how to do things with his tongue.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Evgeni couldn’t even open one eye this time, he just nodded and flicked his tongue over his dry lips. It sounded as though Sidney stifled a high-pitched, melodic giggle; a typical Sidney laugh. The laughter caused Sidney’s entire throat to vibrate. Evgeni’s hands felt as though they were actually ripping his sheets into shreds. His hips would move upwards, and yet Sidney wouldn’t stop; he realized halfway through a moan loud enough to wake up all of Pittsburgh that he was even making noise.

“Sidney.” His voice came out a louder than he’d expected, his cheeks flushing to a blood red. At least this meant the blood was finished rushing to somewhere else.

Evgeni opened his eyes, feeling slightly humiliated as Sidney’s chest pressed back against his. He was unsure of what to do when Sidney’s lips came near him. Was he supposed to kiss him after what he’d just done? Was that normal?

Evgeni gave in, pecking Sidney’s lips and shifting upwards against his pillows. Sidney rolled his eyes, joining Evgeni against the pillows. Every now and then he’d look over and grin a little just to cause Evgeni’s cheeks to flush just a little redder.

“How was that?”

Evgeni just stared over, his mouth open wide to leave him appearing dumbfounded while he shrugged. There wasn’t much for him to say, knowing fully well that any descriptive word he might have wanted to use would be impossible to translate into English.

“Good thing parent’s not here.” mumbled Evgeni, wiping off sweat from his forehead that had built up. “Is… that why you came?”

“Kind of.” Sidney spoke vaguely, shifting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

The two of them laid there on Evgeni’s bed, the sheets completely messed underneath them while their heads laid stiffly on the pillows. Evgeni was stark naked while Sidney was still dressed in his sweater and jeans, both of them smiling with their losses put behind them. It was not over yet.