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It’s not like Geno doesn’t know what he looks like, legs thrown over his head or spread wide. It would be impossible not to know how suggestive he looks, what with all the leers and jokes he gets. He doesn’t mind. His flexibility has aided him countless times on the ice.
Sometimes it has other benefits, too.
Like now, Geno’s legs pressed flush to his torso, bending him neatly in half, sucking at his own dick. He can’t really see Sid, but he can still feel the burning weight of his eyes, and tries not to shudder and choke.
He hears the sheets rustle as Sid moves closer, and then feels one warm, rough hand smooth its way up Geno’s thigh, squeezing his knee before stroking back down towards Geno’s ass. Geno chokes out a muffled moan as one finger trails lightly over his entrance, teasing. The finger withdraws, and then Geno hears the familiar squelch of the lube.
Sid shifts again, even closer this time, and Geno can feel the heat radiating off his body.
“You okay?” Sid asks, leaning over him so he can meet Geno’s eyes. Geno rolls his eyes and groans out around his dick what he hopes is an obvious affirmative, and gestures blindly for Sid to continue. Sid grins down at him and ducks down to press a brief, wet kiss to where Geno’s mouth and cock meet, and Geno does shudder and choke this time.
“Careful,” Sid says, and Geno can hear the smug grin, and rolls his eyes again.
Moments later, Geno feels one hand return to the back of his thigh, holding him open. A single finger presses into him slowly, and Geno chokes out a muffled moan. The hand on his thigh pets him soothingly, and Geno tries to refocus on the dick in his mouth, sucking hard. This might have been a mistake, as he gets so concentrating on trying to tongue at the spot just below the head that he nearly misses a second finger joining the first. Nearly.
Absently, Geno wishes he could see Sid’s face as he fingers him, brow set and tongue poking out of his generous mouth. The Sid’s fingers crook and Geno can’t think of anything at all but bucking as best he can up into Sid.
The hand not currently inside him presses more firmly down on his thighs, trapping him and making it impossible to push up. Geno whines, and then again when the vibrations make his dick throb in the best way. He feels caged in, sensation pressing in from every direction and he’s going to implode, or shake apart, or scream.
Dimly he feels Sid move yet again, not removing his fingers, and then a hot puff of air is all the warning he gets before Sid’s tongue is probing at him between his fingers.
Geno lets out a muffled shout and tries desperately to arch up into Sid’s fingers and mouth, feeling the know in his stomach coiler tighter and tighter until he feels sure he’s about to snap in two.
Sid’s fingers press insistently against his prostate, and he’s pressing wet, sucking kisses right over his opening, and Geno’s barely sucking anymore, just mouthing mindlessly at his dick.
Sid lifts his head from Geno’s ass, and in a voice far steadier than anything Geno’s feeling, says, “Come on, Geno, come on. Come.”
And Geno does.
He nearly kills himself choking on his own come, swallowing messily around his dick and waiting for Sid to let up so he can stretch his legs out. But Sid only holds him down harder. Geno’s vaguely aware of Sid pressing himself all along Geno’s back, jerking himself off and saying… something to Geno, Geno couldn’t say. He felt like he was going to float off into the clouds, and the only thing keeping him anchored was Sid’s hand, still pressing firmly on his thigh.
Sid suddenly stills, and Geno can feel come splattering over his ass and thighs. Sid sighs and slumps a little, trying to catch his breath. Geno clears his (now dick free, thank you) throat, hoping Sid would get the message and let him up. Sid startles a little, then leans up again to look at Geno.
“Up for one more, do you think?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What-“ Geno starts, but then moans quickly in surprise as Sid’s finger finds his opening again and presses in, rubbing against his prostate firmly.
Geno tries to squirm away. “Too soon, Sid, can’t-“ he pants out. Sid looks down at him steadily.
“I think you can, G,” he tells him confidently, and presses again. Geno makes a high, strangled sound at the back of his throat and bucks under his hands.
“There you go,” he dimly hears Sid murmur. “You can do it, Geno. It’s okay. You can.”
There’s a strange, whining noise, and Geno thinks it might be coming from him. Sid shifts around him, still fingering him insistently, and presses a firm kiss to Geno’s gasping mouth. Then he turns his head and mouths at Geno’s oversensitive cock, and Geno forgets how to breathe entirely. His entire body arches as best it can, and he sees nothing but white.
Seconds or maybe hours later, he opens his eyes to the sight of Sid dutifully massaging out the cramps in his aching thighs. Sid smiles at him sweetly when he notices that Geno’s conscious, as if he hadn’t just turned Geno’s brain into a pleasant mush.
Sid leans up to give him a quick kiss, smiling against his mouth.
“Think I dead,” Geno tells him honestly. Sid grins.
“Not quite. Also, I told you so. I knew you could do it.”
“Yes, yes, you win,” Geno says, rolling his eyes. “Now come up here, cuddling time.”
Sid obliges him, crawling up the bed and shoving at Geno until they’re both comfortably curled around each other. Geno closes his eyes, grinning at nothing, and sleeps.