“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?” Sid/Giroux, Hockey RPF
“Come on, Crosby,” Giroux chirps, and Sid is already so fucking done with this guy’s shit. He exchanges a glance with the ref, who rolls his eyes in sympathy.
“Are you done?” the ref asks Giroux wryly, and then the puck drops and Sid snags it first (ha!) and they’re off again, whirling down the ice, Giroux keeping on Sid’s tail like a particularly fast and annoying barnacle.
He stays on Sid, chatting away like they’re not coming up on a playoff push here, like he’s not even focused on the game, and Sid just flat-out ignores him, tuning him out to take a swing on a one-timer down in the Flyers’ end, cursing to himself when it goes wide.
They’re on the power play when someone hits Giroux hard, sending him down the boards, but he pops up like a daisy, fresh as ever, grinning that idiot gap-toothed grin. Sid can’t help but shake his head and smile to himself, but Giroux is paying more attention than Sid realizes, and true to form, takes the opening.
“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me, eh?” Giroux asks, sticking an elbow in Sid’s side as he goes past him on a skid. Sid feels the smile drop off his face to make room for the perma-scowl Giroux always seems to trigger when they play. This freaking GUY, he fumes.
Sometimes, Sid just wants to punch that smug bastard right in his dumb mouth and knock out another one of his teeth, lay him flat out on the ice and go to town while the adrenaline’s high. He’d never give the other team the power play on a silver platter like that though, and so he grits his teeth and grumbles to himself silently and goes out there to fuck shit up on the ice.
It’s inordinately satisfying that Giroux neglects to score a single goal that night, although he does manage to net an assist.
It’s even more satisfying when the Pens win it in overtime.