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“Must be nice,” Kris grumbles to Sid as they’re sprawled on the lawn, taking a break from off-season training. He’s eyeing Mario and his friends, drinking and gambling under a large shaded umbrella. There’s even a portable air conditioner to keep them extra comfortable, unlike the sweat-soaked condition that he and Kris are both in.
Sid snorts, taking a long swig of water. “Sure, become a cuddle companion and you can just lounge on the lap of your owners all day in the shade. You wouldn’t last a day doing that, would you?”
“Maybe not,” Kris admits.
“You and me, we need things to do. Just count yourself lucky that we’re sporting companions and not working companions.” They both glance over towards the house, where two stocky companions are tending to the garden, both sweating just as much as they are.
Kris hums his agreement. “I’d get myself put down in a week if I had to do that. Not like you. I think you’d make it work anywhere. Whatever the owners would ask of you, you’d be good at, eh? Which is why I’m not surprised.”
Sid waits a beat for Kris to continue, draining his water dry, before frowning. “Not surprised about what?”
Now Kris’ expression is mirthful. “I know something you don’t,” he teases. “I overheard it from Mistress Nathalie. The companion show is in a few days, right? Perfect time to find their prize sport stud - that’s you, see - a nice bitch to breed.”
“First off, you got to stud before me if you don’t remember,” Sid retorts. “Anyway - are you sure that’s what you heard?”
“I’m sure. Quite frankly I’m surprised they haven’t been studding you out to every fertile bitch this side of Pennsylvania already,” Kris says with a shrug. “With a lineage like yours, they’ll have buyers lined up and waiting for your kids.”
“Huh,” Sid says. He doesn’t feel quite ready for it, although he’s always known this day would come. It won’t really change much about his life - the bairns, as the children of his kind are called, are often sold to their new owners around 6 to 12 months old, so he won’t be much involved in their raising. His life will still revolve around the National Companion Hockey League and the money he can make for his owner, Mario. But it seems momentous, somehow, the next stage of his life upon him.
Across the field, the trainer claps his hands and whistles. “Up and let’s go. One lap around the field! The one who finishes first gets treats!”
“Oh,” Sid says, competitive juices already firing, shoving Kris back to the ground as he gets up. Behind him, he can hear Kris snarling a protest, but he’s already off and running.
Treats are good, but he wants to win.
~~~~~
“You’re a cheater,” Kris accuses as they’re walking slowly back to the barn, where all the Lemieux companions live, and Sid laughs as he swallows his treat reward.
“You’re acting like it’s a surprise,” he says as they step inside, both of them sighing in pleasure at the fans that keep their shelter cool. All-in-all, it’s a pretty nice barn - they all have plenty of space, and there’s climate control so it never gets too freezing or humid. It’s not quite like being allowed to sleep in the house, as some companions can, but it beats living outdoors without much shelter. Sid has seen them before, companions living their life on a chain, with a hutch they can barely fit in as their only reprieve from the elements.
“No bickering,” their trainer reprimands, and they both fall silent as they’re walked to their pens and locked in for the night. The pens are next to each other, with the walls between them - if you could call it that - made of extremely sturdy chain-link. It helps with the air flow and temperature control in the barn, but it also means there is absolutely no privacy. Then again, Sid has never expected privacy, as a companion.
There’s a soft groan from Kris’ pen coming from a thick nest of straw in the corner, and Kris kneels down with a bright smile. “Hey there,” he says softly. “How do you feel?”
Brian sits up slowly, coming into view from Sid’s pen. He’s wearing a plain brown collar, and his belly is round and full. “Oh, you two are back. Hey Sid,” he says, waving. “I feel okay. Maybe overdid it today. Mistress Nathalie took me shopping with her earlier. She said it would make me feel better, but I think she just likes showing me off. Everyone was stopping and touching my stomach and asking when I was due and stuff.”
“Oh. That’s why you’re wearing this. Here, let me - “ Kris says, and Brian tilts his head so Kris can unfasten the collar and hang it up.
“Yeah, you know the stores, companions have to be leashed. I just fell asleep as soon as I got back, didn’t even bother taking it off. Pretty wiped out. Hey, here, you wanna feel?” Brian asks as Kris returns, gently grabbing Kris’ wrist to set his hand on his stomach.
Kris pauses for a moment, listening, then breaks into a silly grin. “It’s kicking. I can feel it.”
“Yeah, stud. You made that,” Brian teases, and they both lean in for a kiss. Sid averts his eyes to give them some privacy, which is silly, because he was present for their entire breeding, and he knows they will be present when he breeds whatever bitch will be brought in for him. Still, the tender intimacy of the kiss seems different, somehow.
Brian flops back down in his nest with a groan, and Kris pats him. “You can go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when they bring dinner,” he says, and Brian murmurs a soft agreement, already dozing. Kris scoots over to the chain-link wall, the one shared with Sid’s pen, still smiling.
“He looks good,” Sid whispers, crawling over to sit next to Kris on the other side of the wall. “Healthy. A really good match for you, I think.”
“Already have a bidding war going on for the bairn, so I hear,” Kris murmurs back. “Teams need defensemen, you know? It’s a championship lineage. He was amazing on the ice before they retired him. Plus, not a lot of bitches as tall as he is. I bet they’ll try and find a tall one for you, too.”
“Once the bairn is sold, do you think they’ll breed you two again?”
That gives Kris pause, and his expression goes pinched. “I don’t know. I hope so. I mean, I - I try not to get attached, because we’re not like the owners, we don’t get to choose who we mate with or how long they stay in our lives. But I love him, you know that. And, this sounds stupid to say, but I love the bairn we made too, even if I haven’t met them yet.”
Sid winces, reaches his fingers through the chain-link to touch Kris’ arm. “You shouldn’t.”
“I know,” Kris growls. “Don’t lecture me. It’s worse for Brian. He’ll birth the bairn, and nurse it, and raise it, and then…then it’s gone. Sold to someone. And he’ll have to do it over and over again. I know they say you forget about your bairn, once they’re gone. But that seems impossible right now.” He glances over at the nest, where Brian is sleeping again. “If we can stay together, it’ll be okay.”
“It’ll be okay,” Sid echoes, leaning against the chain-link, and Kris leans back so they’re touching through the fence, a comforting press. “Maybe…maybe that’s why I’ve never been so eager to stud.”
Kris nods slowly, starting to smile. “It’s worth it though. I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. I just hope they find a really good one for you. I mean, I know they will. You’re Sid.”
“I hope so too,” Sid says, and they sit together like that until dinner comes.
~~~~~
“This is the worst part about companion shows,” Sid grumbles, arms crossed and keeping very still while the groomer trims his body hair.
Kris, on the other hand, is in his element, eyes closed in pleasure as the other groomer shampoos the long hair he’s so proud of. “Could be worse. Lots of companions get completely shaved for these shows, y’know.”
“Cuddle companions,” Sid says.
“Purse companions, you mean,” Kris mocks. “The useless pretty ones that women tote around. But I’m just saying, it could be worse, so stop complaining.”
“You both look very handsome,” Brian says. He’s standing in the pen he shares with Kris, leaning against the wall as he watches them. “I’m jealous. Kinda miss going to the shows. But I can’t really go in my condition.”
“You’ll be with us at the next show, after the birth. Showing off our bairn,” Kris tells him.
Brian smiles, rubs his stomach. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Anyway, if all goes well, sounds like the masters will be bringing home a new companion to join our pack, so I’ll have plenty of excitement anyway. I can’t wait to meet them.”
“Bet Sid can’t wait to meet them either,” Kris says with a smirk, and Sid swallows, nervous.
“What if they don’t like me? What if we don’t get along?”
“Aw, c’mon Sid,” Brian says with a snort. “If you don’t get along, that’s gonna be because they’re an asshole, not you. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a stud.”
Kris hums his agreement. “We’re a good pack,” he says. “Every companion would kill to be owned by the Lemieuxs, I say.”
Despite Kris and Brian’s words, the nerves don’t abate. The groomers get them cleaned and trimmed up, outfitted in a show coat to protect them in transit, and loaded into the transport vehicle. Mario and Nathalie are there in their show finery, a suit and dress, and Mario gently takes ahold of Sid’s elbow before he can climb in the trailer. “Let me see you,” he says, and Sid obediently opens the show coat so Mario can inspect his body. He nods approvingly. “They did a good job. Be a good boy today, and I know you and Kris will take home some ribbons.”
“Yes, sir,” Sid says obediently, and Mario smiles and pats his cheek.
The companion show is a big one, drawing attendees from across the U.S. and Canada, and both Sid and Kris are big attractions due to their status in the NCHL. They are photographed endlessly, squealed over by countless kids and women at how adorable they are, lauded by other owners for their prowess on the ice. “About time you studded Sid, don’t you think?” a short man asks Mario as they bump into each other. “You know, I have a bitch who would be perfect for him - “
“For the last time, I don’t believe Claude is a good bitch for Sid. He is too short,” Mario says, his hand tightening around the leashes in his grasp, one for Sid and one for Kris.
“Taller than Sid,” the man retorts.
Mario’s mouth ticks in irritation. “Yes, that’s true. But if you’ll notice, we chose a tall bitch for Kris to stud, and we intend to do the same for Sid. Sorry, Danny. I know you’re very proud and fond of Claude, and I know you’ll find plenty of good matches for him. Just not Sid.”
“Fine. You don’t need to tell me again,” Danny says, whirling around and stalking away.
Mario mutters a curse in French, tugging on the leashes. “Come on, boys. Nathalie needs to do some last minute grooming before your show time. Then you have a hockey expo, not to mention we need to look at what’s for sale.”
“Jeez, busy day,” Kris mutters to Sid as they follow Mario along obediently.
Sid doesn’t mind it, though. He’d rather be kept busy than stuck in a holding pen for people to ogle and stare at and photograph, although there is still plenty of that as Nathalie leashes them onto a table and whirls around making last minute grooming adjustments. “Your hair, Sidney,” she sighs as she brushes it out. “Sometimes these curls just kill me.”
He’s never beaten Kris for best in class in the ice hockey sporting division; despite their on-ice performance, the judges in these shows are mostly concerned about aesthetics and breed standards. Sid is too short and squat to meet those, although he knows there is some controversy that perhaps the breed standards should shift more towards his body type, entirely due to his dominance at the sport. Still, the standards haven’t budged yet, and Kris’ handsome face is only a positive for the judges. So he’s never quite sure why Nathalie makes such a fuss over him at these shows, knowing he’s not likely to take home a prize.
The competition itself is a blur: Mario shows Sid, while Nathalie shows Kris. He is leashed up, his show coat removed to show off his body to the judges, taken for a jog around the competition ring, then squeezed and handled and petted by the judges. They spend a lot of time around his thighs, sizing them up and making exaggerated hmm noises before opening his mouth, touching his teeth and jaw. “The jaw has been reconstructed?” One of the judges asks Mario.
“Yes. A hockey injury,” Mario says. Sid can practically hear the sigh in his voice; any reconstructions or fixes are a demerit here in the show ring.
“Hmm,” the judge says again.
In the end, he barely misses out on a ribbon for fifth place, while Kris takes home a red ribbon for second. Nathalie pins it to Kris’ show coat with enthusiasm, kisses his cheek. “That’s my pretty companion boy,” she says, and Kris preens and winks at Sid, who rolls his eyes and waves him away. In reality, he’s not that sore about losing. These competitions are not the ones he really wants to win.
The hockey expo is next, a friendly match of whatever companions happen to be at the show. Not all of them have made it to the NCHL; Sid recognizes a number of younger companions, in smaller secondary leagues. Jake and Bryan play with him in Pittsburgh and are here now as well, having been brought by their owner, and they crowd around Sid in the locker room. “So do you know who you’re studding yet?” Jake asks, eyes bright.
“I guess Mario is gonna take a look after the game,” Sid says with a shrug.
Jake slings his arm around Bryan’s neck. “Well, good luck. I already know who I’m gonna stud,” he says cheerfully.
“Don’t rush me into it,” Bryan grumbles, playfully shoving him off. “Can’t believe I’m gonna have to fuck you. And have your bairn. He better get my looks.”
“You can’t wait for my dick,” Jake teases, and then falls quiet as the locker room door opens. Sid turns to follow their gaze, and the rest of the locker room goes quiet as well.
There’s two tall, unmistakably Russian companions standing in the doorway. Sid recognizes them only because Mario keeps an eye on the Kompanion Hockey League, watching any matches that are televised, and sometimes allows their pack to watch the games as well. Alex is the top stud and leading scorer in the KHL, but Sid’s eyes are drawn to the taller companion next to him. His name is Evgeni, and Sid has always admired his game, the way he can take it over and dominate like even Alex can’t, in his opinion.
“Alex,” he introduces himself in a loud voice. “I play wing. Evgeni, center.”
“Yeah, coaches already got you penciled in,” Linus, their goalie, says with a thumb towards the whiteboard, as the two Russians amble in.
Evgeni sits in his stall, but Alex stalks over to Nicke, a rival who plays against Sid's regular team. Nicke watches Alex calmly as he approaches. “Alex,” he introduces, sticking his hand out for a shake. “I stud you. Owners decide.”
Nicke’s eyes go wide, and he stares at Alex’s hand for a long beat before accepting the handshake. “Nicklas,” he says. He glances at the whiteboard, then back to Alex. “I guess we’re playing together today.”
Alex splits into a grin. “You center me. We score lots,” he declares.
“Jesus, this is kinda awkward,” Jake mutters from beside him. Nicke looks shaken up, as much as Sid has seen him, as Alex returns to his stall. Based on Alex’s declaration, this very well could be Nicke’s last time on the ice before being bred, and it also appears that this is the first time Nicke is hearing of it. Sid doesn’t envy him in the slightest.
They go through warm-ups, and Kris stares across the ice unhappily. Sid sees the blue ribbons of first prize pinned on the jerseys of two opposing players from Colorado, Cale for best bitch and Gabe for best stud. “Don’t be a sore loser,” Sid teases, smoothing down the second-place red ribbon on Kris’ lapel.
“I’m not,” he grunts, but he’s staring daggers at Gabe so Sid thinks that’s probably bullshit.
Not surprisingly, Sid is on a line with Bryan and Jake, which enables him to watch Alex and Evgeni closely. Alex is an excellent goal scorer, boisterous and joyous when he scores, but it’s Evgeni that he can’t take his eyes off of. The skating, the puck possession, the physicality, the shot…Sid finds himself wishing that he had the chance to play with Evgeni outside of this friendly expo. They could have done amazing things on the powerplay.
Towards the end of the first, he finds himself on the bench with Evgeni, shoulder-to-shoulder. His nose flares, and he glances over in shock; the sweat has amplified everyone’s scents. A sweet smell invades his nose as he presses close to Evgeni, and that’s when he realizes: Evgeni is a bitch.
He realizes Evgeni is staring at him. “Uh, hi,” Sid stammers out, suddenly overwhelmed.
“You Sidney,” Evgeni says. “Best player in world. I watch you. They show games, but I just watch you, whole time. Amazing, like, like wow, so good.”
“You’re incredible yourself,” Sid says, breathless, staring at Evgeni. He feels like he’s drowning in his scent, jaw dropped open to get more of it. “That shot a couple shifts ago, I mean, c’mon.”
Evgeni blushes, tilts his head. “You think - me, good?”
“Amazing,” Sid says.
The coach slaps him on the back. “Sid line out next,” he barks, and Sid doesn’t want to go but he has to, and jumps over the boards.
He’s laser-focused on Evgeni for the rest of the game, who plays like a man possessed, bullying his way towards the net, powering down the center of the ice. At one point he knocks Gabe down with authority, and towards the end of the bench he can hear Kris jeering. “Best stud,” he mocks, and the rest of the defensemen laugh.
Finally, in the third, they’re put on the powerplay together. Evgeni gets a blast from the half-wall, Sid gets a stick on it for the tip, and it’s in the net; he gets lost in the scent again as the team comes together for a celebratory hug. “So good!” Evgeni crows to him.
“What a fuckin’ shot,” Sid says, slapping him on the shoulder, and Evgeni grins.
The game is over too soon, and by the time Sid gets out of the shower, both Alex and Evgeni are gone. “Where did they go?” Sid asks Jake, who shrugs.
“Their handler, or owner maybe, came to collect them.”
“But they didn’t even shower.”
Jake shrugs again. “Russians,” he says, as if that explains it all.
He waits anxiously for Mario to come collect them, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot. “What’s gotten into you?” Kris asks, adjusting his red ribbon for what seems like the fifteenth time on his show coat.
“That big Russian - Evgeni?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s a bitch,” Sid says.
Kris nods knowingly, offers a smirk. “Oh, now someone is ready to stud,” he teases, but Sid can’t even bear a smile until he sees Mario. Every second they waste, someone else could be bidding for Evgeni's breeding rights. Hell, it might be that he’s already promised, but if there’s even a slim chance…
Mario is one of the last to arrive, and Sid surges up to him. “Whoa,” he says, looking surprised. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Did you see him, sir? Evgeni? He - “
“Oh yes, the big Russian bitch,” Mario says. “You're interested in him? I don’t know that he's a good match. Now, I was just speaking to the owner of Dougie, and he is a defenseman, but he’s 6’6 and ready to breed - “
“Please,” Sid says, and the tone of his voice makes Mario pause. “Please, sir, you saw him out there. Imagine our bairn.”
“Your talents and his height would be unstoppable as a power forward,” Mario admits, then sighs. “I don’t even know if he’s for sale. Let me drop you off with Nathalie and I’ll ask, okay? But no promises. Dougie would be an excellent match for you.”
“Yes sir,” Sid says excitedly. As promised, they get dropped off with Nathalie, who strolls around the show with them leashed up and walking behind her.
“Dougie,” Kris whispers with a snort. “Fuck that guy. Why would he have you breed with a defenseman?”
“I don’t know,” Sid whispers back, and Nathalie glances back with a raised eyebrow, so they both fall quiet with a sheepish smile.
As they step back into their private area, away from the crowds, Kris elbows him. “Look,” he hisses. Mario is standing there, and beside him on a leash is Evgeni.
“Is this for Sid?” Nathalie asks, and hope swells in Sid’s chest. Evgeni is watching him with a smile.
“It is,” Mario says, and Sid can barely stay still, breaking into a grin. “His name is Evgeni, although - I don’t think I like that name.”
“Evgeni. Like, Eugene?” Nathalie asks.
Mario snaps his fingers. “Like Eugene. Geno,” he declares, then turns to Evgeni. “Your name is Geno now.”
“Geno,” Evgeni - Geno - repeats, nodding obediently.
“And how much did you pay for him?” Nathalie asks.
Mario shrugs. “No money up front, actually. The owners simply wanted the first born. His lineage appears quite fertile, so I’m confident on the profits. We’ll need to do some marketing on Geno, show North American buyers what a talent he was, but I’ve had people calling for years about Sid’s progeny, so I’m not worried.”
“Wonderful,” Nathalie says, moving close to hug Mario, which allows Sid to step up to Evgeni. Before he knows it, he’s scenting Evgeni, who is doing the same to him, before they’re yanked away from each other.
“Plenty of time for that, boys,” Mario gently scolds. “Nat, I’m going to take Geno for a health check before we bring him home. Would you mind taking Kris and Sid back, if you’re all done?”
“Certainly. Let’s go, boys,” Nathalie says, and reluctantly, Sid turns to follow. When he glances back, Evgeni is watching him closely.
“You’re really into him,” Kris says as they ride home. “Why?”
Sid shakes his head, staring out the window. “Dunno. His hockey is - I mean, it’s beautiful, but - “
“They didn’t buy him for you to play hockey with.”
“No,” Sid agrees. “But he also smells like the best thing in the world to me.”
Kris whistles low under his breath. “Wait til his heat, if you wanna talk irresistible. I couldn’t keep my hands off Brian.”
“I know,” Sid says with a wry smile. “I was there for it all, remember?”
Brian is up and restless when they’re returned to the barn, pacing slowly around his pen. “You’re back,” he says, then frowns. “Just the two of you?”
“Oh, no. Sid’s new boy is getting a health check up,” Kris says with a grin. He taps the ribbon before his show coat gets removed and hung up. “Hey, look what I got.”
“Second place! Should’ve been first,” Brian says, and Kris beams at him, sweeping him into a hug and a kiss when the pen is opened and he’s let inside.
Sid steps into his pen too, watches as the working companions get new instructions and begin cleaning one of the nearby areas in anticipation of Geno’s arrival. The stall is across from his and Kris’, to acclimate the pack to Geno’s smell and presence before he moves in with Sid. “Is he excited to come, Sid? Do you like him? What’s his name?” Brian asks, from where he’s lounging in Kris’ protective embrace.
“Geno,” Sid says, watching the new stall get swept out, with a fresh bed brought in. “Well, it was Evgeni, but Mario renamed him. He seemed excited. He knew who I was, said he was a big fan, watched our games. You should have seen him on the ice, Bri. God, he’s incredible.”
“I assume that’s over now? That he’ll be bred next heat cycle?”
Sid shrugs. “I don’t think they would sell him if he wasn’t to be retired.”
“Be gentle with him, okay,” Brian says, and Sid glances over to see Brian curled into Kris’ arms. “Give him some grace, I mean, if he’s moody or upset. I don’t doubt that he’s excited, but…you don’t know what it’s like, and maybe it hasn’t sunk in for him either. Losing hockey, I mean. One day you’re competing, and playing hockey, and doing what you love, what you were bred to do, your purpose in life, and the next…it’s gone. Forever. Companions aren’t even allowed in the rink unless you’re competing or a service companion, so I can’t even watch you in person. Never again. Instead I’m here, bred up and meant to produce as many bairns as I can before my breeding season is done for good. It’s a big change, Sid. Sometimes, I…” Brian stares down, tearing up, and Kris whines and clutches him tighter.
“We miss you out there on the ice,” Kris says softly. “I miss you.”
Brian nods, swiping at his eyes. “Me too,” he says. “Sorry, just - pregnancy hormones, I’m a mess. And then sometimes I think about what happens after I’m done breeding. You can stud forever, but me? What good is a bitch that can’t breed? They can just take me out back and shoot me.”
“First off, that’s a long way away,” Sid soothes, kneeling down on the other side of the pen to look Brian in the eye. “You’re going to be here with us for a long time. And that’s illegal anyway.”
“Yeah, illegal. Doesn’t stop it from happening.” Brian swallows, sniffling and wiping his nose. “I know, the Lemieuxs would never do such a thing. But they’re also not sentimental for companions that don’t have a purpose. Probably I’ll be sold off to be a house or cuddle companion. Who knows? All I can be certain of is that I will never touch the ice again. Same for Geno. So be gentle with him, please.”
“I will,” Sid promises, as Kris draws Brian close, rubs his back.
Kris and Brian are asleep when Geno steps into the barn, looking around tentatively. Sid’s eyes were starting to droop, but he’s awake and up in a flash as Geno is led into the stall across the way from his own. “Hi Geno,” he murmurs. “How did everything go?”
Geno waits patiently for his pen to be padlocked, frowning at Sid’s question. “Everything? What everything?”
“Like, the doctor. Medical stuff.”
“The vet?” Geno pats his belly. “All good. Healthy, good. Ready for pup, for you.”
“Great,” Sid says, although he wrinkles his nose at Geno’s language. Vet and pup are relics of the old days, when companions had no more rights than animals, and were even forbidden to speak. Not like today, where most owners are good and kind, and the law ensures fair treatment even if they’re not. Maybe it’s different in Russia, in which case Sid is relieved and delighted that Geno is here and owned in North America, now. “You’ll join me soon, okay?”
“In there?” Geno asks, pointing at his pen. “With you? Breed?”
“Yes, breed, but also…together. Mated pair,” Sid says, pointing at Kris and Brian, who are passed out and snuggled together in their nest. “Like them.”
Geno stands on his tiptoes to catch a glimpse of them, eyes going wide. “Oh,” he says. “You - want, with me? Mate, cuddle?”
“Yes,” Sid says softly. He wasn’t sure he ever would want such a thing, but he can’t imagine anything else with Geno. “Do you want?”
“Yes, yes,” Geno says with a grin. “Heat soon. We make pup, and we bond. Like that, in nest. Sid best stud, for me.”
Sid finds himself smiling back, a silly grin. “I hope so,” he says.
~~~~~
“Big day today,” their trainer announces the next day as he steps in while the pack is having breakfast. “Brian, you’re seeing the doctor for a check-up. Sid, Kris, and Geno - you’ll all be training with me. Look alive, we have investors coming in to watch.”
“Train?” Geno says, eyes going wide. “Me, train? With Sid? Like do what?”
“You’ll see. Just follow my instructions. You can do that, can’t you?” The trainer asks, eyeing Geno skeptically.
Sid sets aside the last bits of his breakfast, stands up. “He will. Kris and I will make sure of it.”
“Fine,” the trainer says. He lets Sid and Kris out of their pens, directs them to the training field, and then follows with Geno a few moments later, on a leash. “I’ve been told you haven’t met yet. Go on then. Don’t make me intervene,” he says, holding up a can of companion spray. Sid’s never experienced it, but he knows it stings and burns, effectively breaking up any fights.
Kris lingers back to allow Sid to step in first, pressing his nose to Geno’s neck. He still smells wonderful, the most enticing thing that Sid has ever encountered. “Smell good, Sid,” Geno whispers, doing the same to him.
“You too,” Sid says, and he reluctantly moves aside to let Kris have a quick and cursory sniff as well. Kris and Geno are not going to be mated, but they’ll be packmates - family - and committing the scent to memory will be important.
“Hard day today, hope you had a good breakfast. Let’s go,” the trainer barks, unclipping Geno from the leash now that he’s satisfied no fights will break out. Sid can see the investors off to the side as they run through drills of all sorts, running and leaping and lifting things, all designed to show off their skills and bodies. The investors are mostly older men, Mario’s age, lingering around the training field with the working companions attending to their every need, but he keeps his gaze mostly focused on Geno. Geno’s long limbs, power, and agility really come into focus as they work, and it’s hard not to get distracted as his scent grows stronger the more they sweat.
Right before lunch, Kris bumps into Geno accidentally in a drill, sending him tumbling to the ground, and before he knows it he’s sending a warning growl at Kris. He cuts himself off immediately, horrified at the instincts, and his trainer immediately snaps at him. “Sid, down,” he demands, and he immediately drops to the ground in a sit.
“Are you okay?” he asks Geno, who nods, getting back to his feet.
“Is fine. Accident,” he says, gently brushing alongside Kris in a gesture of reconciliation. Sid has to stop himself from growling at that, too.
“I think that’s enough for today. It’s lunch time anyway,” the trainer declares, and they’re all led back to the barn.
Brian’s not there, apparently in the middle of his check-up, and Kris’ mood turns sour as he eats lunch. “I hope he’s okay,” he mutters.
“I’m sure he is. I’m, uh…sorry I growled at you,” Sid says, chewing on a carrot.
Kris glances at him, shrugging. “I get it. I mean, you see how grumpy I am without Brian,” he snorts. “I promise I don’t want to stud Geno though, Sid. He’s all yours.”
“Don’t let you stud me anyway,” Geno speaks up from across the barn. “You defense. Not want that. Want Sid.”
“Well, there you have it,” Kris says, finally offering a smile and a shrug. “So you can stop threat posturing at me, eh?”
“Sorry,” Sid says again, more sheepish this time. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Kris snickers, nods at Geno. “It’s because you wanna get into him. Soon enough, bud.”
Sid is pondering his response when there’s a commotion at the barn door, and a moment later Brian appears, followed by Nathalie and Mario, and an entire swath of inventors. “Which one is taller?” one of the men is demanding from Mario, who has his fake polite-smile plastered on his face. “I want to see them side-by-side.”
“The Russians say he’s 6’3,” one of the other investors says, but the original man hmphs skeptically.
“The Russians think their bitches should be petite, Tony. I don’t believe ‘em for a second,” he says. “Come on, Mario, line them up.”
Geno’s pen is opened, and he steps out to stand beside Brian. To Sid’s eyes, they look the same height - maybe Geno is even a shade taller - and the man hoots in triumph. “See? Brian is 6’4, right Mario? That means Geno has to be that at least. Told you so.”
The man referred to as Tony shrugs. “Got me there. You really like your tall bitches, huh Mario? Hell, they’re both bigger than their studs. That’s unusual. Is there some kinda science behind that?”
“A lot of other breeders exclusively choose height when looking at what characteristics to breed for,” Mario says as Nathalie leads Geno and Brian back to their pens. “We look for height too. But that height has to be attached to a companion talented in other ways. Sid and Kris are two of the best. Now, imagine them bred to two other magnificent companions. Add height into that mix and you will have an absolute superstar on your hands, gentlemen. They won’t come cheap, but superstars never are.”
“This one looks almost ready to pop,” Tony says, peering down at Brian. “How much longer?”
“Two more months, so get your bid in now. Geno’s heat is due in two weeks and we’ll be breeding him at that time.”
“I’m gonna wait for him. I don’t need a defenseman,” one of the men announces, and the group turns to exit the barn, chattering away.
“How’d it go?” Kris asks, kissing Brian’s jaw.
“Everything looks great,” Brian says. He dives deep into his medical appointment, what happened and what was said, but Sid tunes it out, barely able to pay attention.
Two weeks. He’ll be breeding Geno in two weeks.
~~~~~
Geno isn’t allowed to train with them after that first day. “No use. His hockey career is over,” his trainer explains. Instead, he spends his time doing light exercise alongside Brian, often in the pool, or sometimes goes on errands with Nathalie if Brian isn’t feeling up to it.
At the end of the first week, Geno is moved into Sid’s pen, to both of their delight. “Now you’re really part of the pack,” Sid tells him, beaming. “Here, they just put fresh straw in. Did you, uh…you want to build your nest?” He knows from experience that Brian is very particular about his straw, fluffing it and pushing it around until it’s perfect every time it’s replaced.
Geno shrugs, glances at the pile in the corner. “Not picky about it. Not until pregnant anyway,” he says. “Just happy to be here, with you. You look good today - I’m see you do shooting.”
“Do you miss it?” Sid asks quietly, thinking back to Brian’s words. “Hockey, I mean?”
Geno bites his lip, picking at a stray bit of straw. “Sometimes yes,” he admits. “It was so good, play with you. But good too when we make best pups together. I know already, breeding comes soon, not a shock when retire. I don’t like Russian studs, don’t want with Alex. Alex great at hockey, nice and funny, but not right stud for me. I see, we come to America, to Pittsburgh, and I think - oh, Sidney Crosby, and I think maybe, maybe…just can’t believe, that I here. You know? I watch you so much, and now…”
“Now you’re family,” Brian says, leaning against the chain-link with a smile. “Sorry. Don’t mean to be nosy.” He laughs, because there’s no privacy at all between their pens.
“I watch you too,” Geno says, walking over. He spreads his palms along Brian’s belly through the fence. “I see you play with Kris. You make best d-man pup, right in here.”
“Bairn,” Kris says, from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, trying to find relief from the heat. “That’s what we call them. Not pups.”
“Is same thing?”
“Well, yes,” Sid says. “Just, pup is the old way of saying it. That’s what the humans call the babies of dogs. We’re not dogs.”
Geno scoffs, but he’s smiling as he does. “No, not dogs. But what difference? We owned by humans, trained, do what they want. We bred, babies sold, us sold. Pup, bairn, same thing. Maybe you like pretend we’re different, but no. Not much different at all.”
“That’s kinda fucked up,” Brian says. “But I guess he isn’t that wrong.”
Sid steps up, rests his hand on Geno’s back. “Call it whatever you want,” he says. “Either way, we’ll make the best.”
Geno glances back at him, smiling. “Yes, Sid. Best,” he says.
~~~~~
It’s easy to fall asleep next to Geno, even as he sprawls out with his long limbs everywhere, grinning easily at Sid as he takes up more than his share of space - “Just wait for nesting, if you think I take up room now,” he says. But Sid likes it, the feel of Geno’s arm resting against his, their ankles hooked together.
It’s the middle of the night when something wakes him up, and he cracks his eyes open to squint in the darkness. Most of the barn is pitch black, but dim moon light filters through a few windows, brightening the nearby pens enough for Sid to make out what’s happening.
The first thing he sees is Kris’ bare back, shiny with sweat. He’s hunched over something, moving rhythmically, with the occasionally muffled whimper, and - ah. This is a scene that is familiar to him. Sid is vaguely surprised they’re still having sex with Brian as pregnant as he is, but apparently it’s not uncommon for bitches to continue to be horny throughout their pregnancy. Perhaps he’ll find out soon with Geno.
Sid averts his eyes from the scene to the figure next to him, and sees that Geno is also awake, staring at the scene. Geno glances back at him, pressing closer so he can whisper. “They fuck? Not during breed? Masters okay with this?”
“I don’t see why they’d object,” Sid whispers back. “And yeah, Brian - he wants it like, all the time. They try to be quiet.”
A loud cry, quickly bitten-off, pierces the air, and Geno snorts. “Not very good at quiet,” he smirks, and Sid giggles softly. “So we can - we do what we want? Together?”
Sid’s mirth disappears suddenly in a hot flush of desire. “What are you asking, Geno?”
Geno licks his lips. “Maybe not - not that, not yet. But I’m kiss you? Is okay?”
“Oh, Geno. Yeah, that’s - that’s okay,” Sid whispers, and Geno smiles shyly and leans close. Sid meets him halfway, a gentle kiss at first, barely a brush of lips. The next kiss is bolder, and then Geno slides his tongue along Sid’s lips, and he can’t help but groan, as loud as anything that Kris and Brian are doing.
They make out like that, kissing to the sounds of Kris fucking Brian. “Knot me, knot me, knot me,” Brian whispers urgently from the other pen, and Kris growls his assent, the rhythmic noises they’re making picking up in pace. “God, yeah, Kris - fuck.”
Geno pulls away just a few inches, close enough that when he whispers, Sid can feel his lips brush against his own. “Next week, us,” he murmurs. “We show them how to do.”
“Yeah. We’ll show ‘em,” Sid laughs, and sighs when Geno kisses him again.
~~~~~
The breeding bench makes an appearance a few days later, stationed outside their pen like a threat. “You know what this is?” Mario asks Geno, patting the padded bench.
Geno nods. “Breed bench.”
“He won’t need it,” Sid protests, and Geno turns to him, eyes wide. “You can see he’s in here with me, no issues. It’s been really nice. He won’t put up a fight. Right, Geno?”
“No. No fight,” Geno says. “I want breed, with Sid. I don’t - I don’t have to use bench?”
Mario pats the bench again. “Well now, that’s up to you. If you’re good, and you accept Sid, we won’t have to use it. But the first hint of teeth, or a growl, or a struggle - I can’t have you injuring each other, you’re far too expensive for me to take that chance. Do you understand?”
“They’ve practically been breeding each other every night already,” Kris grumbles from the other pen. “Trust me, I hear it.”
Sid swallows, tries not to blush. It’s true that he and Geno have ramped things up: hands, mouths, everything but sex. Last night he pinned Geno down and gently finger fucked him through two orgasms, feeling his hole spasming around his fingers, wondering what it’ll feel like when it’s his cock. “We’ll be good, Master Mario,” he says.
“I trust you will,” he says, nodding and taking his leave.
Geno watches him go, then turns to Sid. “They let us not use bench?” he asks in wonder. “Where I’m from, use bench always. I’m not get choice back home. What we do at night, I think, it’s so nice to be lay down with you in nest, I’m going to regret when we use bench. But we don’t have to?”
Sid nods; he’s starting to understand why Geno was so surprised and skeptical of Kris and Brian being intimate together at night. “We don’t have to, if you don’t fight it.”
“Not me. Lots of fight for other things, no fight for Sid,” he says.
“Well, time to take a nap,” Brian declares with an exaggerated yawn. “Feels like I’m not gonna be getting too much sleep over the next few days.”
“No,” Geno agrees, beaming at Sid. “No sleep.”
~~~~~
Once again, Sid is woken up in the middle of the night. On habit, he peeks over at Kris and Brian’s pen, but he can see them both asleep, two dark lumps curled together in their straw nest. He squints, shaking his head sleepily, mouth opening wide in a yawn -
And promptly inhales the best thing he’s ever smelled, eyes popping open comically. Beside him, Geno is asleep with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow that can’t be explained by the weather, with this evening being unseasonably cool. He’s in heat.
Sid is pondering whether or not to let Geno sleep some more - they’ll both need rest for what’s upcoming - or whether to wake him up and ravish him when Geno eliminates the decision, moaning as his eyes flutter open. “Sid,” he whispers, then squirms with a soft whine. “Sid. Heat, Sid.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Sid murmurs, his hand trailing down Geno’s body like it has a mind of its own. He presses between Geno’s legs, finds his thighs sticky, keeps moving until they’re at Geno’s dripping hole. They slot inside with no resistance at all, two fingers buried in wet hot heat, and Geno squeals at the sudden invasion.
“Sid, Sid,” he moans, his English apparently breaking down. He spreads his legs into the touch, making grabby hands to try and bring Sid in closer.
He goes willingly, pressing his body up against Geno’s warm skin, and Geno sighs in pleasure at just the touch. Sid kisses him while his fingers thrust and curl into Geno’s body, letting the kiss turn demanding and possessive, something he hasn’t allowed himself to do yet. Before this, he’d taken things slow, making sure not to overstep boundaries, letting Geno take the lead. His life had been turned upside down, after all, and Sid never wanted to push him into a single thing he didn’t want to do.
All those chivalrous thoughts are gone right now, though. Geno obviously wants it with the way he whimpers and shivers under Sid’s touch - of course he fucking wants it. Geno is Sid’s bitch. Geno is his, and Sid is going to fuck him and own him and breed him until they both collapse and then do it all over again. He is pretty sure that if anyone got in the way of that, if their trainer or Kris or even Mario came in right now to stop this, Sid would tear them apart.
“You’re mine,” Sid growls once the kiss breaks, nipping at Geno’s lower lip, kissed plump and full. “My bitch.”
“Sid - yes, Sid, yours,” Geno agrees with a quiet sob. His body is wracked with a spasm, and Sid can feel him pulse around his fingers as the first orgasm of the night hits him.
Sid pulls his fingers out after the last aftershocks hits Geno, watches in awe as his fingers drip, white oozing down over his knuckles. Impulsively, he licks at the biggest drop, and groans as it hits his tongue. Geno’s slick is sweet and tart; he thinks he could eat nothing but this for the rest of his life and be happy. “More,” he says, and Geno shrieks as Sid grabs his thighs, yanks them apart and upwards so he can bury his face between them.
“Sid! Oh - “ Geno cries, all semblance of being quiet like they were through his first orgasm gone. Vaguely, Sid can hear Kris and Brian stirring in the other pen, but he spares no other thought towards them. Let them watch - let the whole barn watch, the whole world, he wants them to see, wants them to understand completely that Geno is his.
Geno wiggles as Sid presses his whole mouth to his hole, tongue darting in to taste. “Stop moving,” Sid demands, fingers digging into the soft skin of Geno’s hips to still him.
“I try,” Geno pants out. “But - feel good, nobody never…”
Of course, Sid knew that Geno hasn’t been bred before, but the mention of it sends another bolt of frenzy through his spine, getting him further worked up. “Mine,” he says again, sealing his mouth back against Geno, letting his juices drip and flow into his mouth.
Vaguely, somewhere in the back of his heat addled mind, Sid is aware that this is an unusual thing. He never saw Kris do this for Brian, just a mad rutting together; but he can’t imagine not getting his mouth down here, on the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever smelled or tasted. Geno whimpers nonstop while Sid licks him out, trying his best to stay still like Sid has commanded, but still occasionally twitching from the sensations. He can tell when Geno comes again, the gush against his lips almost numbingly sweet.
“Need. Sid, need,” Geno begs, words failing him, but Sid knows what he needs. Of course he knows.
“I got you, baby,” Sid croons, gathering Geno up in his arms. To his surprise, Geno pushes out of his grasp, tries flipping himself over onto his hands and knees - oh. To present himself.
He stills Geno with a firm grip, manages to wrestle him onto his back. “I’ll take you in every fucking position you can think of,” Sid says. “But first, like this.” Maybe it’s sentimental, but he wants to look into Geno’s eyes while he breeds him. He wants to see Geno’s face when the knot catches, watch every single fucking second of him getting pregnant.
Geno’s eyes are wide and dazed in the moonlight, and he blinks in surprise but quickly nods. “Yes. Okay, Sid, yes - just, need - “
Sid leans down to kiss Geno quiet as he bullies his legs apart. Everything is slick, slick, slick as he takes himself in hand, blindly finding Geno’s entrance and pushing inside. Underneath him, Geno whimpers into his mouth, pitch going high and reedy, setting his legs on Sid’s back to get a better angle.
With Geno’s legs up in the air, it’s easy to shove forward, bottom out inside of him; the sensation takes his breath away, gasping against Geno’s mouth. “Sid,” Geno mewls, plaintive and needy, and Sid growls in response. Kris told him how good this was, waxed poetically on the sensations, but in his mind there’s no words that could have ever described it accurately.
“I’m gonna give you so many bairns,” Sid says, bracing himself on the straw to snap his hips forward into the welcoming warm depths of Geno, who cries out. “So many pups.”
He will, he thinks feverishly as he ruts into Geno, the loud noises of them coming together over and over filling the air. He’s gonna breed Geno up, and do it again and again and again, and even after Geno ages out of his breeding years he’s still going to do this, because Geno is his. Below him, Geno is red as a maple leaf in fall, and Sid is obsessed with the way he moans, eyes half-lidded and lips parted so he can dart out and lick them wet every few moments. He looks wanton, transformed into a whore by his heat, and Sid knows he won’t be satisfied until they’ve gone multiple times. “Knot,” Geno begs, when their gaze catches. “Knot, Sid, knot, knot.”
“Yes, yes,” Sid promises, and he can feel it, his first knot, Geno’s body trying to catch and hold it in. One last great thrust and he’s stuck, groaning as he finishes, pumps his load into Geno’s willing hole. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, watch Geno’s face as he comes too, screaming on Sid’s cock.
There’s a hush that falls over both of them until Sid grins and brushes his sweaty hair back from his forehead, watching Geno affectionately. He attempts a smile too, bringing his hands up to cup Sid’s jaw. “Sid,” he murmurs. “Good, Sid.”
“Yeah,” Sid says, chuckling breathlessly. “We did good.”
They both know they’re going to go again soon enough, and Sid gingerly rolls them so they can both rest and relax for the moment. Geno is facing the other pen, and his smile goes sharp as he looks over Sid’s shoulder. “You see something you like?” he calls.
Sid glances over his shoulder to see Kris and Brian; Brian is sitting on Kris’ lap, evidently just as stuck as they are from the looks of it. He shrugs, offering a sheepish smile. “You woke us up,” Brian says.
“We got you going, eh?” Sid asks, smirking at Kris, who rolls his eyes.
“Don’t get cocky,” Kris retorts, kissing Brian’s shoulder. “Brian gets horny over a gentle wind these days. But what did I tell you, huh? Was I right in how good it is?”
“No,” Sid says, turning his attention back to Geno and ignoring Kris’ squawk of protest. “No, you’re wrong. It’s better than anything you could have described.”
“We show them,” Geno whispers, and they both giggle as Sid pulls him in for a long kiss.