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What Do You Want To Wager?

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"I dunno Croz, lookin' kinda old over there eh?" PK calls out as Zhenya drops down onto the bench beside Sasha, a bit winded, Sidney not far behind him, skidding to a stop at the open bench door through which Zhenya had just passed.

They've still got a few minutes of ice time left but there are a few central guys out on the other bench already, eagerly waiting for their turn or maybe just hanging out to watch Gretzky "coach" - he doesn't envy them some of the teammates they've got to share a dressing room with. He wouldn't stay in there either given the option.

"Last night too much party for you boys?"

It had been, a bit. He'll never admit it but thanks to Sasha's insistence on a good time he's nursing a bit of a hangover - and he's not sure Sid's much better off. Still, Zhenya knows PK a little but not a lot, so on the balance it's natural to lift his chin a little even as he slouches over his elbows to catch his breath. To give him a little warning, just in case it's needed, in case the chirps are petty and not in good humor. Not that so many make the mistake of thinking him an easy target to mock these days, but still.

Of course PK barely does more than glance over him in passing, smiling easily as Sid remains his focus.

Sid just laughs though, rolls his eyes and pulls his face to play along, a wide smile stretching over his lips anyway. "Yeah well we'll see how your bunch of misfits keeps up come game-time," he chirps back, and it's as weak as ever, and on the ice, here in this brief closed practice where the cameras are few and far between, he's forgotten to use his polished public voice and instead sounds like the dork that he is.

"Oh-ho, you laying down a challenge then? Wanna make it good - yeah, let's go, standard bet number one," PK says, smile broad and verging on smirk territory as he curls his glove in a "bring-it" sort of gesture.

"No," Sid blurts, laughing as he leans in, head ducked as he side-eyes PK and apparently attempts to stifle his humor.

Sid knows PK, though, Zhenya is forced to admit at that. Knows him well enough to have in-jokes and have earned Sid's unguarded attention. And it's not as though Sid doesn't have friends around the league - of course he does, but during a normal game he'd be focused on the game, on the others as opponents more than colleagues or friends. The All Star Weekend is a different sort of beast.

"No, I got you, totally a number three kind of bet. Day off Monday."

"No!" Sid says, sharp and half-whispered and insistent, and yet he's smiling as he says it - not his friendly smile, or his media smile or any number of other smiles Zhenya would expect in this near-public space with pseudo-teammates, but rather his giggling happy embarrassed smile.

Something turns over in Zhenya's belly at the sight and he's not sure why. It's an odd feeling, the both of them being here like this, seeing Sid interact with the other all-stars, in ways Zhenya is unfamiliar himself. For almost his whole life Zhenya has either been looking on Sid amidst his own team, among Pens, or looked at him from across the ice, holding himself aloof and other from his captain in service of Russia - and Sid the same in return - serving a different captain, however briefly.

This, being on Sid's team but not among Penguins, seeing him like this with people who aren't theirs, but not having the separation of nationalism, he feels…

Well, he doesn't think he likes it very much, whatever it is.

"No? Come on, you don't think your boys can do it?" PK cajoles from where he's leaning over the boards from his side of the practice bench - half his body bent over the red strip towards where Sid's leaning against them from the other side, standing on the ice.

"That's not- Of course we can. We're going to kick your asses," Sid replies, but for all that he's halfway to snapping, he's still trying to strangle his irrepressible smile, his face still flushed and prettily pink and Zhenya's starting to think not just from the drills they're running.

He's not so sure he likes how that feels either, especially not when PK leans even closer to murmur, "You know I'm good for it," and Sid just angles his head in with him instead of pulling away like Zhenya would normally expect him to.

"That's not the point."

"Okay, okay then, make your wager," PK says again, tone cajoling as he pokes at Sid's elbow - Zhenya feels his mouth tighten - adding in a sing-song, "I'll even let you pick bet number sev-en…"

"No," Sid says again, low and embarrassed and still laughing a little. But his eyes flick Zhenya's way for just the merest moment and that's enough to spend the rest of Zhenya's patience.

Zhenya reaches out with his stick to poke PK - friendly, mostly, just to get his attention. He lifts his chin at him and says, "I take your bet. Standard bet one, you say first bet, I take it."

There's silence in response. PK's face goes bright with surprise, brows up and mouth curving wide as Geno slings himself back to his feet and looms over them a little.

"Geno," Sid says, sounding shocked.

"Is fine, you be good example," Zhenya says, cutting him off with a deliberately condescending pat on his head. "No making bets. Let alternate captain make bets for honor."

"Well shit," PK says with a laugh as he sends a speculative glance over Zhenya's person and then straightens up a little from where he's been leaning down beside Sid. "Alright man, I'm down."

They're not the only ones paying attention now. He can hear Sasha's quiet laughter behind him, and also someone - the Hall kid maybe? Not that he cares - muttering that he's not actually the A right now and fuck him for being such an arrogant dick (really, why they put intra-division rivals on the same teams…). Not to mention a delighted-looking Seguin on the opposing bench behind PK. He doesn't pause to look for who else is paying attention, though, too busy looking PK in the eye and keeping his game face on.

"Geno," Sid says, and this is definitely his warning tone, but Zhenya's already committed at this point. He puts on his best cocky expression and pries off his glove, sticks his hand out to PK.

"Metro beats Central."

"Central beats Metro. Standard bet… one?" PK offers back, brows still lifted in question. He licks his lips reflexively, glancing down at Zhenya's hand as he frees his own hand from its glove and holds it out in return, just waiting for Zhenya's confirmation.

"Geno," Sid says again, low and flat.

But fuck all if Zhenya's going to admit to ignorance now, so he just slots his hand into PK's and smirks at him.


The handshake exchanged is firm, and to Zhenya's mind, binding. PK's smile is brilliant, his teeth shining bright as he grins at Zhenya and then throws back his head and laughs, reaching out to smack Zhenya on the arm and say, "Shit, man, I love it. You never fail to surprise me."

"Oh my god," Seguin breathes, making a low sort of whine Zhenya thought only dogs and overly-excited teenagers made. Which, still essentially applies there.


PK laughs to himself and thumps Zhenya on the arm once more and then flicks a wink at Sid, shrugging and saying, "Hey man, you had your chance," before sliding back down onto his side of the bench to go harass his slowly-coalescing group of guys with renewed vigor.

Zhenya's feeling fairly pleased with himself until he looks back at Sid and instead of fond exasperation or indignant amusement or even just flat annoyance like he'd expected, he finds Sid looking rather seriously displeased. Upset, in fact.

"What?" he says, frowning back at him.

"You-" Sid stops, jaw clenching as he glares at Zhenya's shoulder.

"Yes. Is me," he replies because it's not like he isn't kindof a dick.

"You don't even know what you just wagered, do you?" Sid says - scolds, just about, his jaw set and his mouth a thin line pushed together. His voice is pitched low, only for Zhenya to hear, and almost angry.

Zhenya huffs a little, shifts his weight over his other hip and tosses back, "Of course I'm know. Is not big deal." Because it can't be. The two of them? Two good canadian boys? It's probably something tooth-rottingly sweet like donating ten thousand bucks to some charity or whatever the latest silly internet fad is.

And he half expects Sid to know he's lying, to call him out for it right then anyway, but damned if instead he doesn't snap his head up to look at Zhenya, displeasure giving way to something that looks distinctly like hurt and dismay for the briefest moment before the iron curtain of his Captain face slams down overtop it.

"Fine. I'm not your keeper. Fucking do whatever you want," Sid says, all trace of good humor gone from his demeanor as he pries his mouthguard out of his glove and shoves it in his mouth as he skates away.

As he watches the hunched set of his captain's shoulders and the deep, cutting strides he takes across the ice, Zhenya is left with the distinct impression that he has, perhaps, made a significant mistake.

He considers kicking the boards but thinks the better of it and just flops down beside Sasha on the bench again. He watches Sid skate a while, but the presence of eyes on him has him sighing and looking over at Sasha who's still smirking at him in open fascination, never one to miss out on a little drama. He also looks far too knowing and almost concerned, which…

Well, he was already beginning to get the feeling that he was fucked. He gets it rather unfortunately confirmed when he bites the bullet and quietly asks, "Саша, что это первая стандартная ставка?"

Sasha laughs so hard he falls off the bench.



Sasha refuses to tell him - if he even knows, but Sasha has a way of knowing these sorts of things. Sill, either way, he won't tell Zhenya what the bet is, tells him it's just all the more motivation to win it in tomorrow's game.

He briefly considers talking to the Seguin kid but pride had gotten him into this thing, so risking his embarrassing mistake becoming league gossip seems like a stupid choice at best. Besides, something about the way the kid had reacted…

Sid's definitely angry with him. Oh, they make it through the last of practice with professional ease, and then after they watch the atlantic/pacific game there's dinner out with the group, which already would have them more or less separate and interacting only casually out in public like this. But Sid very nearly refuses to even look at him.

He catches PK looking at him, every now and then, a little speculative, a little bit smirking, but extraverted though he may be the subject of the bet doesn't come up again in public - other than Sasha mocking him more or less incessantly in Russian in between conversations with others. At least he has the decency to do it out of hearing range of Tarasenko or Kuch or Sergei.

Sid doesn't stay out much beyond the meal itself, as normal an occurrence as Zhenya staying out a bit, but Zhenya considers breaking from habit to go back to the hotel, to talk to Sid, to have it out. He tries to at least catch Sid's eye as he leaves, to gauge his mood, but he gets nothing but a cold shoulder. And really, he's at least smart enough to know Sid won't be reasonable after a full day of press, skills comp, and excess socializing. And, if he must admit it, he knows he's still feeling too stubborn over the high-handedness of Sid's anger, so he leaves him to his rest, and doesn't make use of his spare key to Sid's room, instead spending the night in his own room for the first time this trip.

He sleeps, because he's trained himself to sleep even through the most stressful situations, but it doesn't keep him from feeling worse about it when he wakes up. Whatever it is, he's been dishonest, and at the very least he needs to come clean about that.

He makes quick work of getting dressed and ready for the day, heading over to Sid's not long after he knows Sid will be up. It's good he didn't delay, because when Sid opens the door to his knock, he's already fully dressed for the day, looking ready to go and perhaps a little frustrated that he hadn't made his escape before Zhenya's arrival.

"Sid, maybe we talk?" he offers, trying for something like contrition.

Sid looks at him a moment, standing there blocking his doorway with his lips tight and his nostrils flared, eyes tracing back and forth over his face trying to read him. Then he heaves a sigh and steps back, angles his head to invite him in and holds the door for him as he passes on through.

Sid shuts the door behind him, then follows at a distance into the room, going to stand somewhere vaguely near the foot of the bed. The silence is heavy, even heavier than Zhenya had anticipated.

"You mad at me."

Sid isn't looking at him, but he nods short and sharp.

"I'm not know why," Zhenya says finally, swallowing back his embarrassment. "Mad about bet, but…"

Sid looks at him then, face tight. He crosses his arms, hands rubbing against his own skin in a soothing little motion as he says, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm mad you took that bet with PK. Wouldn't you be mad if I'd taken the bet?"

Zhenya doesn't know what to say to that and he licks his lips and struggles to arrange his thoughts.

"I mean. If I'd known you would…" Sid continues, mouth twitching down at the corners as his chin jerks a little sideways and his eyes skitter away. His voice turns bitter and mean as he says, "Well then, maybe I'd have taken it myself since apparently you're so… since you don't care if…"

Sid loses his words to the tight grasp of emotion that locks up his throat with a swallow, his eyes anywhere but Zhenya amidst the obvious bluster. And to Zhenya's dismay, he can see Sid's eyes are glossy at the corners as he blinks a few times in quick succession and swallows again.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Sid. Was… boast? Little bit lie. I'm not really know what standard bet is," Zhenya admits finally, wincing as Sid sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, shoulders hunching further. "Sorry. So stupid."

But even as he apologizes again, Sid's striding forward, leaning into his space and touching him again and setting his forehead against Zhenya's shoulder, sighing heavily. His voice cracks a little as he says, "God, I'm so glad to hear that, you have no idea."

And Zhenya isn't sure whether it's pushing or not but he doesn't fight the urge to wrap his arms around him and hold him close to his chest, to let his face brush against Sid's hair. It's bad enough that this whatever the hell it is put a potentially serious wedge between them, but it's even worse that it was because of his stupid pride and jealousy.

It doesn't last long though, with Sid pulling back - or trying to, since Zhenya doesn't much feel like letting go, at least not until Sid pinches his ribs hard enough to sting.

"Also, what the hell were you thinking? Taking a bet blind, are you fucking kidding me, G?" Sid demands then, frowning sternly up at him in a way reminiscent of how he looks at troublesome rookies - which normally wouldn't work but then, Zhenya's a bit guilty of stupid rookie shit here.

"I'm not think…" He scratches his fingers through his hair to try and soothe the tingle of anxiety on his skin. "I'm think, PK is good guy. What could bet be, you and him such good Canadian boys? Is standard like, you do before lots so like, maybe little bit money for charities? Do pushups? I'm hate pushups but I'm think like, is no big deal, you know?"

And Sid's face wrinkles hilariously, nostrils flaring and eyes squinting up as his brows twitch like he's not sure which part of that he's most offended by. It's further compounded by Sid's face flushing pink again at the edges as he drags a palm down his face and looks away.

"So, uh. Yeah. No. No… uh," Sid clears his throat and his voice wavers on "Charity. Not that."

Zhenya cocks an eyebrow at him, intrigued as he watches the flush continue to creep up Sid's neck.

"So what is bet then?"

"Uh, it… kinda goes way back to like. Team Canada Juniors. And people have just carried it on because," Sid says, not meeting his gaze. He hesitates, hesitates more and then blurts, "Uh. You know, it's not important. I'll just, you know, I'll tell PK you didn't know and - he's not gonna be a - he'll like. Switch it. To charity or whatever. It'll be fine."

Which, Zhenya's maybe not been showing off his intellect in good form much lately but even he knows that was not an answer and also a really pathetic attempt at avoidance too.

"No," Zhenya says slowly, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowns at his lover. "I'm not back out on bet. I'm never do."

"No, it'll be fine," Sid insists, turning with a nod and walking away like it's been settled.

"Sid," Zhenya says in warning as Sid grabs his coat and hat and starts to put them on

"I'll handle it, okay G?" Sid says sharply as he shrugs into his coat. "Come on we've got to get to the rink."

And no, not okay because Zhenya is not about to let Sid handle his bets for him - especially not inside the league, fuck - but he only just got Sid to talk to him again and also he's struck by the mental image of Seguin's fucking face at Zhenya's taking the bet in the first place so he hesitates just enough that Sid's already halfway out the door before he gets his tongue in working order.




They lose the fucking game. Not by much, but that doesn't fucking matter because close doesn't mean shit. And it's frustrating, because Zhenya had tried, had really tried. Seguin had been laughing like a maniac, like he was having the time of his life, putting in stupid bounce after stupid bounce off PK's wild shots from the blue-line, the best-worst part of 3-on-3; all chaos. It shouldn't have happened but the hockey gods were not on their side.

When it's done, and Sid's chewing on his mouth-guard and staring at his glove as the festivities wind down and Zhenya… Zhenya figures there's not much point to having a reputation for being a bit of a dick if you don't use it from time to time, so he leaves as soon as humanly possible.

Nobody cares too hard because there's still the final game for the others to play yet. They all want to talk to PK and the other guys right now. Sid too and Sasha because they never leave them be, but Zhenya makes his escape with only a few autographs and selfies to make.

The bet remains in the forefront of his mind. He stops by his room to change out of his monkey suit and mulls it all over. Sid's proclamation aside, it's his debt to settle. Of course, Sasha texts him to mock him for ducking out early, then mockingly approve of how he's getting ready to pay up now that they're all back at the hotel, and his asshole of a friend aside, he figures he's not wrong in that it's best to get it dealt with. He gives himself a minute to text some rude replies, then heads for PK's room.

He doesn't quite expect PK to answer the door wearing nothing but a loose dressing gown over Predators-yellow silk undershorts, but he's not terribly surprised by it either.

What he is surprised by is that Sid's beaten him to his visit and is sitting on PK's bed when PK ushers Zhenya into the room. He is still in his suit. Mostly. His tie is undone and the top button of his shirt is open.

He also mutters under his breath, "Oh, of course now you decide to show up on time."

Sid looks somewhere between defiantly stubborn and guilty when he looks up at Zhenya, then looks away again.

"Sid," Zhenya says, layering his disapproval into the syllable.

PK smiles at Zhenya but his expression is a little tight with uncertainty as he glances between them. Zhenya knows the feeling.

"I told you I'd take care of it," Sid says, shooting for stern but verging on petulant.

"And I say no," Zhenya points out, mild but firm. "I make bet, I make good."

"Yeah well I won't let you," Sid snaps, then looks up at the ceiling as his face scrunches up like he hadn't meant to say that. Still, he sets his jaw. Which, well, it's not like Sid's not a demanding person but it's very rare for him to be controlling of Zhenya - though probably in part because it's not a tactic that's going to be particularly successful with him.

"Oh. Oh shit, really?" PK says, looking between them significantly like he's figured something out - more than Zhenya can boast at the moment - as he laughs soft under his breath and smirks at Sid.

"Shut up," Sid mutters.

But PK just grins broader at the apparent confirmation. He laughs, big and open and easy as ever. "You sly dog. Why didn't you just tell me?"

Sid makes a pained expression and says instead, like some tattling child, "Yeah well. He doesn't even know what he bet you."

"So?" Zhenya says back amidst PK's laughter, just as defiantly. "Still not welcher."

PK laughs even harder then, almost as hard as Sasha had laughed, leaning back against the hotel room's dresser for support, hand splayed over his bare belly. "Oh, oh," he says some time later, miming wiping away tears of laughter from his eyes. "This is too good. This is amazing."

"What, what is bet nobody will say?" Zhenya says, frustration creeping in at being laughed at again so roundly.

But PK looks to Sid first, then slowly shrugs, tilts his head and goes, "Ehh, naw man, it's cool, we're square, don't worry about it."

Which, given how relieved Sid looks, he's definitely still worrying about it.

"Sid," Zhenya says, quiet and in a tone he hopes Sidney will take as serious, "What is bet."

Sid stares him down, but he stares right back. Stares back hard and unwavering because he's really not going to budge on this one. Finally Sid looks at the ceiling and then heaves a sigh and says, "Sex. Pretty much all the standard bets are sex stuff. Bet number one is a blowjob."

Zhenya stares at him a moment.

"Blowjob," he says, the syllables spilling over his lips in halting disbelief.

Sid's face goes all tight and defiant and embarrassed and pissed all in one little tangle and PK's laughter is soft and smaller this time, a little nervous perhaps. Zhenya can't help but glance over at him, suddenly far more aware of his loosely-clad body. PK lifts a hand as if in greeting, a wry smile on his face as he looks right back.

"So, yeah. I'm not… okay with you making good on that particular bet," Sid says, frowning down at his knees, hands tight where they're gripping the edge of the bed on either side of him. "Sorry. Guess I'm a jealous dick when it comes to you."

"And exactly no-one else is surprised," PK murmurs to himself.

But Zhenya's eyes fall on the open throat of Sid's shirt, his tie loose around the neck. He curses under his breath and closes the distance between them so he can reach out and tug on the end of the silk, look down into Sid's face.

"You think I'm not?" Zhenya says. "You think you different? You do, not bother me?"

Sid frowns at him, says, "It's not the same, come on."

Zhenya curls his fist around the end of the tie, an angry ball starting to form in his belly as he tugs it again. "Wrong."

"No," Sid insists, fingers wrapping around Zhenya's wrist, "I'm not saying you don't… Just. It's different because I know PK, it's nothing to us. Old history. And I know how stubborn you are, that you'd insist on making good but I knew what I was getting into. Better me than you here, come on."

And that really… he's pretty sure that's one of those things that only make sense to Sid. Unless…

Zhenya drops the tie, and Sid's hand falls away as he pulls his arm back and stares down at him. "You want?"


Zhenya frowns. Sid frowns some more.

"Then why, you not trust me? You think you do, is nothing, but I do, is what-"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," PK interjects, stepping forward and raising his hands to hover in the air between them, adding with a little waving gesture, "Here, okay, I officially release you from our bet. I consider this whole thing null and void. Done."

"Not work like that," Zhenya mutters, rolling his eyes.

"See?" Sid says to PK under his breath.

"Yeeah, you're both stubborn dicks." PK throws up his hands. "Well what do you want from me? Neither of you is okay with the other sucking my cock - neither of you apparently wants to do it anyway. Disappointed and-" he tilts his head and pouts, "-mildly insulted though my dick may be, I sure as shit ain't ever gonna be that desperate. Just forget about it."

"I'm still owe you," Zhenya says firmly, because it's the truth.

PK groans and puts his face in his hands, leaning over to flop back on the bed beside Sid as he says to himself, "Chucky always told me never to make bets with Russians, why didn't I listen. Look, just, I don't know, give the BJ to Sid or something in my place. I'm transferring it or living vicariously or what the fuck ever. And then Sid can trade me back someone else's bet some other day or something like that if it matters so much to you."

He looks at Sid reflexively, and if it weren't for the way Sid is already turning pink, eyes flicking over Zhenya's mouth and then over to where PK's bare legs are sprawled out beside him, his next thought might not have occurred to him. But yeah, Sid's easy to read after a decade at his shoulder. It's not hard to follow the train of his thought here, however briefly he thinks it. Or to think it's a pretty good idea, even if Sid's already dismissing it.

"Okay, I blow Sid for you, deal," Zhenya says, and promptly kneels down at Sid's feet.

"Thank god," PK sighs, oblivious to the way Sid's eyes have widened and his knuckles gone white where he's gripping the edge of the bed as he comprehends Zhenya's intent, or the way Zhenya is shouldering his way in between Sid's knees and reaching for his belt.

Sid's hand clamps down over Zhenya's, his face intent and pursed in disbelief as he silently questions Zhenya's sanity given the presence of PK beside him. Zhenya just cocks an eyebrow at him in return and shifts his thumb to stroke down the ridge of the fabric forming Sid's fly.

The thing is, Zhenya knows what Sid likes - what excites him and what holds him back. He's almost certain that if the consequences of getting caught or getting outed weren't horrific to Sid, he'd be thrilled if Zhenya were to get down on his knees for him in the middle of the locker room like this before they were even fully out of their gear - nevermind who's watching or might walk in.

And PK's free of those particular consequences. He already knows. He has just as much to lose and even if he didn't he's got the proven history of discretion. He's their friend. He knows this. Sid knows this. It adds up.

Slowly, Sid's hand relaxes off his.

"You two are such a pain in the ass in so many ways, you know that?" PK adds, still unawares and scrubbing at his face with his palm. "Anyway you can just pick like Segs or somebody, he's always an easy mark for a completely stupid bet. Though that's probably because he just likes the excuse to-"

PK's voice trails off as Sid sucks in a sharp breath that's halfway to a moan - Zhenya's got a hand on his cock, and while most of the time this wouldn't be anything special, tonight's circumstances have him almost completely hard in his pants already, responsive to even that mild touch.


Sid half glances back, not quite making eye contact, lips parted like he's not sure what he wants to say. Zhenya does catch PK's eyes as they shift between them and he lifts his brows in question as he circles his thumb against the cloth-covered head of Sid's cock and gets himself a little breathless sound as Sid's body tenses into it.

"That… works too," PK manages after a moment as he sits the rest of the way up again, slowly sliding down to sit on the end of the bed right beside Sid, glancing between them again like he's checking that's okay. Zhenya doesn't wait for Sid to muster up a response, just smirks at PK and tackles Sid's belt with the ease of long familiarity - an upside to Sid never changing much is that his clothes are never hard to figure out.

"Yeah that definitely works."

If they were in a hurry he wouldn't bother undoing everything, but they have the luxury of a private room and nothing on their schedule for pretty much the rest of the night. He takes his time teasing Sid free of his clothing, till he's frustrated enough that he does it himself, lifting his hips up and shoving his pants down his thighs.

Zhenya certainly doesn't mind when it ends up with Sid's fingers tight in his hair, dragging him in to where his cock is now bared to the room and all its occupants. It's maybe true that none of them are going to be even remotely body shy, but there's still a difference between being naked in a room full of guys and having your dick out. Especially what with the way PK bites his perfect lip at the sight and sighs a contented little sound when Zhenya drags his slack lips up the length of Sid's cock in a wanton sort of caress.

Sid's fingers scratch along his scalp, short nails digging in just a little bit, just enough to sting ever so slightly. Zhenya closes his eyes and leans into it, lets his tongue go loose and hot with saliva that he smears over Sid's shaft, smoothing the way for when he's going to swallow him down.

Not that he does that yet. No, just now he uses his tongue to trace every familiar ridge and line of him in slow succession, listening to the sound of not just Sid, but also PK's breathing as they watch him do it.

Eventually Sid grunts in soft annoyance and lets go of Zhenya to unbutton his shirt and part the fabric, leaving his view down his belly unimpeded before he settles his hand back into Zhenya's hair and manhandles him just a little into getting his open mouth where Sid wants it - namely where he can guide his cock right between his loose lips and push deep.

Sid's not the most patient person. When it comes to sex in particular, even more so, unless he's taking Zhenya's direction for the evening. And here, tonight is certainly Sid's choice. Zhenya just does his best to relax his jaw and tongue and let Sid force him deeper. It's true that given his druthers, Zhenya's more likely to tease and drag it out until one of them breaks, but it's not like this doesn't make him just as hard, being at Sid's mercy like this and getting right to the point.

Zhenya follows his direction, focuses for a while on swallowing him down and minding his tongue, getting his breathing into the right timing as Sid's fingers on his scalp give him his timing. Sid likes his steady rhythms too in sex - fine contrast for the way he can take things in such unexpected directions too. Like now, the two of them here like this on a friend's bed. He hums his appreciation and gives his tongue a wriggle now that he's settled into it a bit.

"You good?" Sid asks, panting, and Zhenya glances up but Sid's eyes aren't on him. They're on PK, on the way his lips are parted and his eyes looking just a bit glazed.

PK's silky shorts do very little to hide his enjoyment of the performance - very, very little, given the way Zhenya can definitely see his deep-flushed cock peeking out past the hem along his thigh, glistening at the tip and the fabric dulled from its shiny glow where the moisture has already been captured. PK doesn't touch himself, though he must ache to. Geno knows he's aching to touch himself too. This exhibitionism thing probably does more for Sid than for him, but there's no denying that it's exciting.

But as he watches PK swallow and flash them a smile and a nod, fingers knotted in the fabric of his robe pooled at his hip, Zhenya wonders. He at least knows Sid's his afterwards too, that Sid will probably take care of him in return. PK doesn't have the luxury of anything but expecting his own hand after they're done. The bit of anger or jealousy that'd begun to cinder in his belly is long gone, lust easily and unsurprisingly taking its place. But now there's that sense of… it's not that he wants PK, not in a world when he has Sid already and always, but in another universe…

And not to mention what might've happened in a world where Sid would have taken the bet for himself - or rather, the things that have probably already happened, the times Sid has taken that bet in the past. Zhenya watches PK's eyes slip over Sid's face, lingering on his lips just a moment before he swallows again and goes back to watching Zhenya suck him instead.

Sid's fingers are dragging in slow circles on Zhenya's scalp, but the fingers on his other hand twitch with some suppressed action, and Zhenya looks up at him, catches his eyes. He's pretty sure Sid hadn't missed PK's look either. He waits, watches as Sid's lips part as he licks them again and his eyebrows flicker. Zhenya pulls back to a comfortable depth and suckles a moment as he considers the idea, glances over at PK again as he imagines it. And Zhenya tries not to make too many decisions in his life based on whether or not it makes his cock twitch but this definitely does and it's an easy sell. Zhenya pulls all the way off, lips sloppy with spit that he has to lick up before he can speak, but he catches Sid's gaze again and tilts his head towards PK.

"Should make out. You like when I kiss you and jerk you off. This even better."

And Sid rolls his eyes and glares a little at Zhenya's blunt pronouncement, but from the way PK's eyes brighten and his mouth curves into a pleased and hopeful smile as he leans in a little, there's no room for awkwardness to form. He wouldn’t have suggested it if he hadn't been pretty sure Sid wanted to, and the way Sid's lips go loose when he looks over at PK are about as obvious as it gets.

They've done this before. It's immediately clear from the ease with which Sid cradles PK's head and guides their mouths together.

Seeing it like this is completely different than the idea of Sid doing anything like this without him. Jealousy is a distant concept, given how good they look, the two of them. Both with such strong faces and perfect lips, but such different styles. Sid's focus, intent and intense, PK's expressive sensuality, his responsiveness.

Sid's also too ramped up for easing into anything at this point. He plunges his tongue into PK's mouth as his other hand tightens on Zhenya's hair, pulls him closer. Zhenya half chokes around him - not enough to be a problem, just force him to concentrate, and Sid likes to push him like that anyway. He can hear the sound of their kissing, the wet click of lips parting and shifting and coming together again. Zhenya swallows deeper the best he can and Sid breaks the kiss enough to curse under his breath, his hips tensing but kept under enough control not to actually thrust.

Zhenya does his level best to give it everything he can because he knows Sid's getting close. He knows Sid's body, his tells and how he gets tense the closer he gets. It's quick this time, the situation, the way PK's hand settles on Sid's sternum as they make out, fingertips brushing just close to his nipple enough that Sid leans into it. Sid isn't always the easiest person to get off but today it's all coming fast.

Zhenya swallows and sucks and watches as Sid starts to strain towards all the sensation, the way he loses himself in it with closed eyes and sharp breaths and then all of the sudden Sid's breaking his mouth away from PK, groaning low and strangled as his body starts to lock up.

Normally Sid would never give up the wet heat and pressure of his mouth to finish by jerking off - and why leave a mess when Zhenya can swallow it without even tasting it by being deep when he comes? But today the situation seems to matter more, and Zhenya can't really say he's all that surprised when Sid pushes his head back and takes himself in hand to make the finals strokes to orgasm.

He comes on Zhenya's face, on his open mouth, bitter and hot on his tongue. Zhenya takes it as offered, and when he's done, he closes his mouth to swallow but leaves it at that. Sid's breathing a little hard, his chest and neck flushed with the heat of orgasm, and he hums in contentment and spreads some of it over Zhenya's skin with his thumb, looking down at him with possessive self-satisfaction. Zhenya would roll his eyes at the behavior if he didn't feel an answering pull in his chest, and weren't wanting to appease his lover anyway.

Zhenya aches to touch himself, all too aware that PK's waiting with bated breath, lip caught between his teeth and the slightest hints of hope lurking around the corners of his eyes as he presses the heel of one hand down along his hip, gliding over the silky material of his shorts, as unsatisfied as Zhenya.

As much as he's glad to accommodate Sid, it's… While in the moment that he'd started this it had felt like a little bonus for PK, a little nod to acknowledge that he could enjoy a little to watch even if he wasn't getting his prize until it got deferred to him sometime down the road, now it just feels wholly inadequate and unfair to think that they're just going to get up and leave now. He knows it's his fault they ended up here, and that everyone had agreed just fine, it's just…

Sid's watching him, though, he realizes. Shrewd as usual. After a moment Sid stands up, tugging his trousers back into place. As he does, he follows Zhenya's gaze over to PK, then frowns down at him, wearing his thinking face. He buckles his belt but seems to hesitate, and he's obviously already ahead of Zhenya's half-formed thought. His eyes trace in sharp, proprietary lines over Zhenya's face as he considers, and then he takes a slow, steady breath and curls his hand around the back of his head.

He lifts his brows in question, glancing down at Zhenya's mouth again and tilting his head ever so slightly.

Zhenya thinks about it for just a moment, but the choice is easy enough. He nods.

Sid shifts them, steps around his kneeling form and nudges him in. Zhenya angles his head over towards PK and shifts closer. He moves to set his other hand on PK's knee in offering and pauses, asks the question silently.

PK's lips part in surprise as he glances between them, then nods immediately, eagerly, so he puts his hand there, slides up the well-muscled limb till his fingertips are pressing into his skin just shy of the hem of his shorts. He scratches his nails through the dusting of tight spiraled hair on PK's skin as he leans his head back into the cradle of Sid's touch and traces a line around the perimeter of where PK's cock is trapped under the glossy gold fabric. It's very deliberate, not touching his dick, and he grins, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he watches the reaction.

PK groans in amused frustration, head falling back, but he shifts his thighs wider, leans into it with his hips just a little. "You're killing me, G."

And it's true, PK's had to wait patiently through quite a lot already, so Zhenya reaches up to stroke the hard length of him through the silk, firm and garnering a heavy exhale of pleasure from PK. He rubs his thumb along the underside, then heads higher to push the darker fabric of PK's dressing gown aside so he can get at the waistband of his shorts and tug them downwards. PK obliges in a thick ripple of core muscles that lift his hips enough that Zhenya can get the shorts down his thighs, and PK kicks them off readily in a motion that makes his cock jostle pleasantly between his thighs.

There's a clear weightiness to PK's dick, and a slight curve to the right that does nothing to disguise how long he is. And Zhenya's not exactly hurting in that department - either in his own or the access he has to Sid's - but his mouth does water a little at the sight. He's unsurprisingly as beautiful there as he is everywhere else.

And really, they've all waited long enough.

He ducks his head in and lets his jaw hang looser than it already was, letting his tongue and lips stroke over the length of him, gliding up the shaft, wetting him down, watching the way his skin looks so rich and warm under the glisten of saliva. Sid doesn't always appreciate a messy time at sex but Zhenya's gut tells him PK might, so he lets himself be sloppy with it. His mouth's a little tired for a lot of precision work to start with right now anyway.

It takes a moment for it to really sink in though that he's doing this with someone new, that this is the first time in several years that he's put his mouth to someone other than Sid. And yet he's got Sid standing at his shoulder, unseen but felt, the way his leg is warm against Zhenya's flank. It's even more surreal than it'd been blowing Sid with PK watching.

Zhenya blinks and looks up when he feels PK's gentle touch on his face - blunt fingertips brushing over his cheek and beside his nose and making him aware of how Sid's come is still there on his face. PK hums his appreciation, and after a moment he gets a hand around the base of his dick, nudges it up off his thigh and settles his other hand along the side of Zhenya's head to guide the two together.

Before he can do much more than wrap his lips around the tip, Sid's hand passes by Zhenya's ear and lands on PK's wrist, and then PK's hand is getting detached from where it's buried in Zhenya's hair. The move is one that stutters - sharp and reactive at first, then less so, slower and more apologetic as he pushes PK's hand away.

"Uh," Sid says stupidly, and when Zhenya twists his head a little to glance at his face out of the corner of his eye, Sid's facial expression is a mixture of his normal mulish defiance and sheepishness. His eyes are still hot with desire as he watches Zhenya slowly let the tip of PK's cock slip from his lips and land against his thigh again with a wet slap, and he clears his throat a little and tries, "It's fine. It's just I…"

"Nah. I get you. It's all good, I can keep my hands to myself," PK says lightly, smirking a little knowingly at them. He slowly eases back on the bed, leaning back on his hands and leaving his lap open to their attentions and nothing more.

Sid heaves a sigh and ducks his head a little, nodding his thanks. Then he reaches out again to settle both his hands on Zhenya's head, cradling him gently and guiding him forward again. Zhenya uses his own hand to guide PK's dick back into his mouth, and he feels the way PK twitches and trembles under him at the contrast of his hot mouth on the places where his spit's started to cool to the room.

PK is every bit as responsive as he'd have guessed, humming and oohing his appreciation every time Zhenya takes him deeper, or digs his tongue in under his foreskin, or pulls his lips tight and sucks. The rhythm isn't his to set, though, Sid taking that on only gently at first but with growing firmness the longer Zhenya remains responsive to his cues.

Zhenya's not even quite surprised when he feels Sid's hand curve over his shoulder and then glide down the length of his arm, tugging a little at his biceps, so he obliges. He lets go of PK's dick entirely and, exchanging a knowing glance with PK, tucks both his wrists up behind his back, crossing them over each other. It's… not something they do, really, but he's had his suspicions, thoughts about Sid's desires that have only been strengthened by how things have been going here.

Sid doesn't say anything, but his inhale his audible and the way his hand flexes on Zhenya's arm tells him everything he needs to know about it.

PK's wink doesn't hurt either.

So Zhenya keeps his hands where they are, and PK keeps his hands where they are, and Sid takes over the rest entirely. He sets Zhenya's rhythm with authority as Zhenya just relaxes his neck and lets Sid fuck his mouth over PK. Eventually Sid reaches past him to push on the inside of PK's thigh to spread them a little wider, to make it easier for Zheyna to go deeper, and not long after that pseudo barrier is broken, he's reaching down to wrap his fingers around PK's balls, rolling them even as he presses Zhenya even deeper this time.

He can't see Sid like this but he imagines he knows just what sort of intent concentration he'd see on his face. His eyes dark, cheekbones in taut relief and lips pulled in a perfect bow under slightly flared nostrils as he watches the sex act he's orchestrating with his laser focus. The thought of it makes his dick twitch again, even as he struggles not to choke, and he finds himself wondering what else he'll do to get it again. Surrender's not something Zhenya comes by easily, not at all, but if there's anyone he'd do it gladly for, it's this man.

PK's panting audibly, though he doesn't move out of position in the slightest, just stays there laid out under the both of them, watching.

"I'm getting close," he breathes out, belly tensing on the last word, making it something of a gasp.

Sid kneels up on the edge of the bed at that, just enough to lean closer and get more of PK's cock in his hand and still maintain his hold on Zhenya's head. PK reaches up to grab ahold of Sid's shoulder, whether to steady him or himself Zhenya can't tell but they're all pulled close together, all in each other's space, sharing breath and Sid doesn't kiss PK but he doesn't pull back when PK kisses him.

Zhenya loses track of things a little bit then, too busy focusing on not choking as Sid pushes him deeper and more or less holds him down there while they make out above him, but he doesn't have to wait long before he feels PK twitch under him, one sharp little jolt before his cock throbs against his tongue. Zhenya has him deep enough in his mouth that he barely notices the come slip down the back of his tongue but he enjoys the sensation all the same.

When his need to breathe starts to itch at him he pulls back without waiting for Sid's go. There are probably some limits to how long he's ever going to be comfortable leaving everything in Sid's hands anyway that they'll have to discover along the road, and he has a feeling post orgasm is going to be one of them, no matter how much Sid likes to savor things. Sid lets him go pretty much immediately anyway, and he sits back on his haunches and swipes his palm over his mouth as he swallows and tries to get his face settled back down.

PK sighs in contentment and lets go of Sid, falling back on the bed in his pooled robe, comfortable in his nudity and grinning up at the ceiling.

"Whoo," he murmurs, then laughs a little, tucking an arm behind his head to look down at them. "Okay boys. Bet officially settled."

"Good," Sid says, standing up from the end of the bed and glancing down at Zhenya.

"Damn right," PK agrees as he smiles and then sits up and reaches for his phone where it's sitting on the nightstand as it chimes again. "Hell of a way to start the evening."

Zhenya nods. His shoulders are a little bit tight from holding his wrists back at that angle as he shrugs them out and puts a hand on his own dick, just a little rub to take some of the edge off. He's more than ready to get off too, almost complains to them about it, but the way Sid's looking at him it feels a bit like that would knock things back off balance to do that right now.

Sid's eyes are dark and a little opaque as he glances over Zhenya's face, then down to where his arousal is fairly obvious. Whatever he's thinking, Zhenya's having trouble reading, but Sid just steps away to where there's hotel tissues on a side-table and brings one back to use on Zhenya's face.

When Sid tries it, Zhenya grimaces and steals the tissue, nudging Sid's hand away to do it himself. Sid lets him, the specter of a pout around his features, and Zhenya rolls his eyes, but it feels warm somewhere in his belly and he's not altogether sure he wouldn't just as easily let Sid have his way another time, in a different setting.

"Hey, you guys ever tie each other up and shit?" PK asks out of the blue, and Zhenya is momentarily a little distracted from cleaning his face by how much his dick is apparently into that particular idea - not that it's difficult to make things sound good given how hard and unsatisfied he is at the moment.

"Okay, okay, jeez," PK says, laughing as he bats away the tissue box Sid is chucking at him.

"Not your business," Zhenya says as he finishes cleaning off his face as well as he's going to be able to without the benefit of a mirror. Though he can't help the speculative glance he casts Sid's way, or the way Sid's eyes are narrowing.

"I'm just saying, I bet it'd be hot," PK adds as he tosses his phone aside and gets up off the bed and drifts over to where his garment bags are laid out on the table. "Anyway. Sounds like some of the guys are heading out soon. You coming?"

As much as he's enjoyed this, he's got some needs of his own he's interested in tending to now that he's settled his end of the deal.

"Don't know. Maybe," he says as he adjusts himself in his pants, tucks his cock up into his waistband and makes sure his shirt covers it as he stands up. It's still not the most subtle thing in the world but it's not indecent. He glances at Sid and finds him still watching. The look in his eyes doesn't help the subtlety issue much.

"I'll bet," PK drawls, glancing over his shoulder to wiggle his eyebrows at them. He laughs and then mutters under his breath, "So many bondage jokes."

To which Sid just sighs at and turns towards the door. Zhenya adjusts himself one more time and PK folds his robe closed as he walks them to the door, smiling broadly at them as Sid opens it.

"Not even a goodbye, Croz?"

"Well, if we don't see you later tonight, we'll see you next week at the game," Sid says, turning and accepting the hug PK extends him, ingrained politeness getting the better of him. Well, and he's not still waiting to get off.

Zhenya just rolls his eyes and tips his fingers in half a salute to PK as he steps by them. He starts to consider heading up the hallway on his own to go handle things himself without Sid if Sid's going to take much longer with his Canadianness.

He about reaches his breaking point when PK finally lets go of Sid and pats his shoulder as he says, "Alright, go take care of your boy then. I'll see you."

"Yeah, you too," Sid's saying as Zhenya wraps a hand around his arm and starts walking.

"Let me know if you want to make any wagers for Tuesday," PK calls after them.

Sid groans and quickly matches Zhenya's pace as PK laughs.

Up the hall Seguin's just stepping out of his room as PK's shutting the door to his. He does a double take - glancing at them first with just a smile of recognition, but then once he looks at PK's door and takes in their proximity to it, snaps his eyes back to them in delight.

Zhenya just lifts his chin and stares down his nose at the kid as they walk by, but Tyler is uncowed - he just grins shamelessly at them and waggles his eyebrows - which Sidney very deliberately ignores as they move past him.

He can hear Tyler giggling behind him and resigns himself to the potential gossip, since there's nothing to be done about it now. After all, he'd made his bet. That ship sailed a while ago. And, well, if the alternative is people thinking he didn't make good… maybe he doesn't mind Tyler guessing certain things.

Besides, he's a little more worried about making it back to one of their rooms before ducking into the vending machine alcove starts looking too tempting - at least until something abruptly occurs to him that has him looking down at Sid.

"You make bets with Seguin?" he blurts, and Sid deliberately doesn't look at him either but the flush on his cheeks gives him away entirely too easily.

Zhenya smirks at him, even though that definitely isn't helping him with the subtlety issue either.

"Shut up," Sid mutters.

"You make bets with all team Canada?"

"You think I won't leave you like this? Because I will," Sid says, eyeing Zhenya's crotch pointedly.

Which is as good as a yes, and despite the bright curiosity he feels Zhenya ignores the urge to push back in favor of savoring the shiver the threat causes. And besides, they're not far from their destination and he's really, really ready to get off. Still, one last question wins out as they finally make it to Sid's room.

"You make bets with me?" Zhenya murmurs against his ear as Sid gets the key into the slot.

And Sid pulls him inside and shuts the door, backs him up against the slab and presses close to him, looking up at him in the darkened room, eyes going bright and sharp and hungry - just like they do on the ice before he goes and lights the lamp.

"I don't know," he says, lips parting in a slow grin. "What do you want to wager?"