Just sent in NateMac... OR 2or8 with Sid, you pick lol
It's on this holiday they decide to try for a baby (2) - with Sidney Crosby 🎄
from m’s winter prompt list 2021
a/n: she kind of a heavy one, y’all. fun and sweet turned passionate and weighty. typical M shit, you know.
word count: 2,617 (this got outta control and will def be the longest one of these blurbs lol - still four blurbs remaining!)
warnings: swearing, alcohol, children, talk of pregnancy / starting a family, allusions to sex / fertility, Sid wanting to be a dad(dy) which def needs a warning
_____
It was Christmas Eve at the Crosby house, the third you and Sidney had spent together as a married couple. With a Christmas Day blizzard threatening your original plans to spend the short break from hockey in Nova Scotia with Sid’s family, you had called an audible and decided to stay in your own home this year, playing host to the other guys and their families who, too, had remained in Pittsburgh. You had cooked an impeccable turkey, thanks to your grandmother’s trusty recipe, and baked no less than six dozen cookies for everyone to decorate throughout the evening, ensuring that the kids had plenty to take home “for Santa” that night.
Sid had quickly shifted from being disappointed about the change in your holiday plans to excited about sharing the holiday with his teammates, their partners, and particularly, their numerous children, an aspect that hadn’t yet been added to your and Sid’s dynamic, but something that you both privately thought you should consider changing, and maybe sooner rather than later.
Excited about the idea of having small children around, Sid had dug through the basement to find his old board games – Battleship, Monopoly, and Candyland to name just a few – and had pulled his deck of cards from his travel bag to ensure that the kids had plenty to do in your normally kid-free home. What was more, he set out for a quick Target run and came back with not only a Starbucks peppermint mocha for you, but several bags of stockings. You smiled softly when he began to empty the bags onto the ottoman, curling up on the arm of the couch beside him.
“Who are all those for, love?” you inquired, quickly glancing to your mantle where only three stockings hung – yours, his, and his beloved, aging “puppy” (as he still called her) Sam’s.
He threw you a lopsided grin over his shoulder and pointed to each of the stockings.
“Alex, Victoria, Nikita, Hunter, Brayden, Caden, and Emersyn,” he rattled off, naming each of the children who would be at the house in just a couple of hours. “Then, I got tags to hook on each of them so we can write their names,” Sid said, his sheer delight about having the kids at the house on Christmas Eve contagious. “I just thought it would be nice. Might make them happy.”
You smoothed your hand over the nape of his neck and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
“That’s sweet, babe,” you cooed, your nails scratching softly at his scalp. “This will definitely make them happy. They’re gonna love it.”
Sid preened. “You think?”
You nodded, nuzzling your nose against his temple. “I know so,” you assured, squeezing his shoulder before getting up from the couch to continue your preparations for the party. “That’s why you’re the best Uncle Sid,” you pointed out with a wink. “And why you’ll be the best dad.”
Though you’d said it casually before turning toward the fridge to start assembling the charcuterie board, Sid couldn’t help but beam, staring after you as you went about your task. He rubbed his thumb over the soft fleece of the stocking he held, looking wistfully at the decoration and dreaming of the day he’d be able to add another to your mantle, for a little one of your own. Or two. Or forty. However many you’d let him.
But there would be plenty of time for that. And so for now, Sid picked up the tags and a marker and set out to assign each young guest a stocking, all while dreaming of those Christmases to come.
Hours later, a festive frenzy had fallen over the house, replacing the quiet coziness of just the two of you together with your senior pup. After a thoroughly enjoyed dinner, the kids chased each other through the entire main floor and tossed plush faux snowballs in every direction, the guys donned matching Penguins Santa hats as they sipped on egg nog and hot toddies, and the partners huddled in their sweats and Uggs, glasses of wine in hand as they giddily caught up with one another.
All was as it should be, until a distinct thud echoed from the hallway, followed by immediate whines coming from one of the littlest of the group, Victoria, and a round of “ooh”s and groans from the dads who had watched the unfortunate collision unfold. Victoria’s little head had evidently caught the corner of the wall as she tried to turn into the living room to make her escape from big brother Alex who trailed behind her, now looking remorseful and concerned.
“Uh oh. Saw that comin’,” Sid mumbled as he swiftly rose from his perch on the couch, the nearest to the scene of the crime, and made his way to Victoria. Just as he reached her, her cries hit a screeching peak, but Sid was undeterred. He gathered the crying girl he loved so much into his arms, easily lifting her by her elbows, and stood rubbing her back.
“I know, V,” he cooed. “That really hurt, didn’t it?”
Victoria nodded against his shoulder, swiping at her wet eyes with the backs of her little hands. Sid pressed a kiss to the side of her head, cradling it gently in one hand.
“I didn’t mean to!” sweet Alex insisted, his high voice trembling from the tears in his eyes. Sid immediately shook his head.
“We know you didn’t, bud. It’s nobody’s fault,” he assured, smoothing a hand over Alex’s dark hair as the boy bashfully wrapped himself around Sidney’s legs.
Catherine lifted her brows, giving you a look. “Damn, he’s good,” she muttered from behind her wine glass, Natalie snickering beside her.
“Yeah, don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but that was kinda hot,” Megan Carter concluded with a cackle, earning a poke in the side from you as you handed an approaching Kris an ice pack, reading his mind.
“Don’t start,” you warned through your teeth, though the smirk on your lips gave you away as you gazed back at Sid once more.
Sid was now seated on the step with Victoria on his lap.
“Can you show me where it hurts, V? Hmm?” he asked just as Kris approached with the compress, squeezing his little girl’s calf affectionately as he, too, crouched to her level, though he knew she was in capable hands under the care of Uncle Sid.
Victoria nodded, then sat up from Sid’s hold and pointed to her forehead, where, sure enough, there was already a bump forming. Thankfully, though, no skin had been broken nor further injury inflicted.
“Ouch,” Sid said softly, affirming the girl’s pain. “Well, it’s gonna hurt for a little bit but the good news is, I think you’re gonna be okay. And you’re just as beautiful as ever,” he said warmly, making Victoria giggle.
“Merci beaucoup,” the girl said quietly, throwing her arms around Sid’s neck. He hugged her back with a bright laugh as your eyes met his over her shoulder, and he threw you a wink.
“Pas de problème, ma chérie,” he replied, letting go of Victoria as she turned toward her dad, hugging him and accepting the ice pack before seeming to forget about the incident just minutes later, though the tenderness of your husband’s reaction to it stayed with you much longer than that.
Later in the night, after a few board games, when the kids finally started to wind down and slowly find their way to the living room, Megan tapped their family’s copy of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” which Caden had brought in tucked under his arm as if it were his prized possession, announcing as he laid it on the coffee table that it was tradition in their household that someone read it each Christmas Eve, no matter where or with whom they celebrated the holiday.
“So, who should read the story to us tonight, guys?” Megan asked, raising her brows at the kids as they glanced around the room.
It was little Emersyn whose eyes landed on your husband and who raised a chubby little finger to point toward him.
“Oh, you want Sid to read to us?” Megan asked, Jeff smirking beside her.
“Me?” Sidney asked the little one, surprised that of both of her parents and all the others in the room, it was he who she had chosen.
Sure of herself, Emersyn nodded. And not only that, but with a coy smile, she slid down from the couch, pulled the book from the table, and made her way to Sid, raising her arms his direction as an invitation to him.
His heart melting, Sid obliged, scooping Emersyn up and settling her on one side, just as you curled into his other, your hands rounding his bicep as you took in the sweet scene right before your eyes. And, from the corner of them, you spotted other wives, namely the ones with children, cooing over the moment, too, from where their hands covered their mouths. You gave the girls a knowing glance as Sid opened the book and began to read, his concentrated, animated tone evoking a warmth in your belly.
“'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house; not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there…” he spoke, lifting his eyebrows to emphasize the prospect of Santa’s coming arrival. You grinned, settling your head on his shoulder just as he curled his free hand around your thigh with an affectionate squeeze.
“The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads,” he continued, and at that portion, you heard him swallow thickly, taking a quick breath to steady his voice before he went on. “And ma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,” he read.
“Ma and Pa right there,” Jake muttered from behind his glass of bourbon with a nod toward you, making Bryan and Jeff chuckle.
Though you playfully narrowed your eyes at them, Sid murmured a, “damn straight,” that knocked the smile from your lips in favor of a straight line, shocked by his sentiment in front of the group. The girls giggled around the room and you felt your face heat as you buried your face in the crook of Sid’s neck, while he went on as if it were nothing.
The rest of the story captivated you far more than it did the children, if only for the way Sid engaged them all with his intonations, character voices, and sound effects, making them bubble with laughter and mimic him excitedly. Sure, he was entertaining them, but he had you absolutely mesmerized. His being attentive to any and all children around him was nothing new, but this… being huddled together in your home, cozy in front of the fire on Christmas Eve, Sid with a toddler on his lap and more little ones settled around him on the couch and at his feet on the floor, not to mention the way he had cared so lovingly for Victoria… this made you ache. Made you yearn. Made it so easy to picture future scenes just like these, but instead of his teammate’s children, they would be your own. Sidney’s own. Yours and Sidney’s.
You remembered Kelsey and Kayla and Megan and Catherine and more telling you that when you were ready, you would know. And when he was ready, you would know. Call it (future) mother’s intuition, call it a biological clock. Whatever it was, you felt it stirring within you, sending a message you had never quite heard this loud or clear.
It was time. You knew it was time.
And from the look in Sid’s sparkling hazel eyes as he read the final, classic, “But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night,’” then looked down at you, you were more certain that he knew it, too.
After that, as much as Sidney had enjoyed the day with a full house, he just wanted to be alone with you. Craved it. That singular focus he was famous for was pointed only, fully, at you. After he’d finished reading and the two of you had bid your goodbyes, he could hardly get the last of the guests – the Letangs and the Malkins, to neither of your surprise – out of the door speedily enough before he closed it behind them, then turned toward you and blew out a frazzled breath he seemed to have been holding for hours now.
“Do we even need to talk about it?” Sid asked, his steps toward you from the door quick and determined.
“No.” You barely had a moment to breathe out the word before he captured your lips in a searing, longing kiss, his hands squeezing needily at the flesh of your hips, a hungry groan leaving his lips and vibrating against your own.
“Do you even know how much I adore you?” Sidney whispered against the shell of your ear before ducking his head to trail his tongue along your neck, eliciting a gasping moan from your throat.
“I do, Sidney,” you whispered, cradling his head against your skin. “I swear I do.”
He pulled back to take you in, his nose just centimeters from yours, as he searched your eyes.
“Do you even know how badly I want to see you as a mother?” he asked, pressing his hips into yours as a whine fell from your mouth. “How much I want to give you children? My children? Our children.”
You swallowed hard, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Show me,” you offered in a whisper, lips closing around Sidney’s earlobe as your teeth grazed the soft skin there. “Please.”
___
Hours later, long after midnight had struck, signaling the start of Christmas Day, Sid lay with his head against your bare shoulder, his fingers mindlessly tracing shapes on your lower belly. You decided to take the quiet moment to voice your primary fear about entering this next phase of life.
“It might not happen right away, Sid,” you whispered, voicing it to your husband as much as yourself. “You know?”
Sid nodded, lifting his head to settle it on his pillow and meet your eyes.
“I know, babe,” he assured firmly. “That’s okay. However long it takes, it’s okay. I just… we’ll make it happen. One way or another. Alright? I promise you that.”
Tears blurred your vision before dripping down your temple, swept away in moments by Sid’s knuckles.
“Okay,” you concurred, knowing better than to think you needed to ask if he was sure, if he was certain, if he knew the full extent of what he had just vowed. You knew. You knew he knew. He was Sid – he always meant it.
“Now, with that said, I need you to promise me something,” Sid said, slowly stroking your cheek with his thumb. You nodded. “I need you to promise me that you won’t put pressure on yourself to make this happen right away. Or ever. Okay? Whether it happens right away or it takes longer than we thought, I need you to take care of you first. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded again, folding yourself into his arms where he held you reverently, kissing the top of your head.
“Promise,” you mumbled, your face smushed against his neck. “I love you, Sidney.”
