Geno is sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Sidney has a dresser drawer full of sex toys, but right now he's drawing a blank.

The thing is, Sid's filthy. Or he's pretty sure he would be, if somebody would just give him a chance to be filthy.

There are plenty of people in the world who are better at sex than Sidney, basically everybody who's tried to do it more than three times and got past handjobs, so when he decides he needs some help, he seeks out experts--or rather, sexperts.

Sidney’s wedding day doesn’t go quite as he’d planned. When he’d bothered to imagine it at all, he’d thought of a nice June wedding in Nova Scotia, outdoors with the sun streaming down. He hadn’t imagined this hurried affair on the tarmac on a rainy and unseasonably cool day in early September, a month after his twenty-fifth birthday.

“Geno? Are you okay? Physically,” Sid asks, which is good, because Zhenya doesn’t think he can put into words how he’s feeling emotionally. He imagines saying, The person I’ve loved for ten years finally took me to bed last night, but it turns out he didn’t want to, and now I can read his mind. No, thank you. “Feel fine,” Zhenya answers. “Even head feel fine.” And suddenly he realizes how fucking odd that is: he was concussed, and the room is brightly lit – he should be hiding under a blanket right now. He narrows his eyes and asks, “Sid, why head feel fine? What happen to concussion?” Sid takes a halting step closer to the bed and says, “Our bond, it’s—it’s a healing bond.” “Holy mother of God,” Zhenya breathes. So. They’re definitely not breaking the bond, then.

Jonny’s prostate is a gift from the gods. Patrick’s patience, also.

The package arrives the day after Sid gets back to Pittsburgh. Sid recognizes the discreet wrapping, and the lack of a return address is so obvious they might as well have printed Sex Toys R Us all over the damn box.

“Is normal,” Geno says firmly. “Nealer has stupid hair, Tanger has dumb tattoos, Sid has no dick.” Sid laughs. “I have six dicks, I don’t wear them for hockey,” he says.

“I deserve to suffer.” “Sorry to hear American alphas aren’t good enough for your fussy little Russian asshole,” Seryozha says. “Now, stop pouting. Just because you think you need to suffer, doesn’t mean I’m going to suffer through all your drama with you. God knows you’re already insufferable enough on normal days.” Zhenya spends a few more seconds definitely Not pouting, no matter what the sullen purse of his lips might suggest.

“Here’s the key,” Gonch said after they got Sidney’s luggage out. “The doorman knows who you are. Are you going to be okay?” “I’ll probably be more than okay,” Sidney admitted. “Forget I asked.” In which Sidney spends his heat in Russia with his long-distance boyfriend, Geno.

It was Sid’s dirty little sneaky plug, buzzing merrily away inside his asshole, and they could hear it.

Jamie accidentally discovers Tyler's profile on JizzHands.com. A situation develops.

That's the end of the talking for a while, but it's only the beginning of Patrick thinking about it. He does some research, but it turns out that googling "what does it mean that I like getting held down during sex" doesn't provide much helpful information, and he can't bring it up with anyone, so he just – thinks about it, instead. It's probably more thought than he's put into anything before in his life other than hockey, but it leads him to some pretty interesting conclusions.

Jonny's heat comes early and unexpectedly strong. Pat is there, on the other side of the locked door, to help him through it.

Alphas aren't allowed to exhaust themselves by fucking an omega in heat during the playoffs. There are sex machines for that.

Patrick is in heat.

Wilson and Latta and an omega in heat.

In retrospect, Jordie realizes Jamie’s coming out might have been a much bigger deal to him than Jordie had let him make it. Jamie is trans. Jordie doesn't care, and he will murder everyone that does. (POV Jordie)

Tyler winked at him. "Hey, want me to act all demure and nervous about it? That could be fun." The mind boggled. "No," Jamie said firmly.

Geno makes a request. Sid does his research. Geno starts without him.

Travis goes into heat while in the bubble. The only problem is that Patty is 2000 kilometers away.

Sometimes he wakes up sucking on his fingers, rutting his hips into the bed. He’ll be right on the edge of coming, the wet head of his dick trapped between his hips and the sheets, but he can’t, he can’t, not without – not without something pushed up inside, something stretching him open.

They meet at the rink when the team starts gathering for training camp, and Taylor quickly learns two things. One, that Nico is absolutely as nice as he seems on TV and via text. The second is that Nico is an alpha.

Dylan’s breathing too hard when Zach picks up. He says, “Hey, I miss you.” “Not for sex reasons, obviously,” Zach says. “What is going on there?”

The Washington Capitals part of the D/s AU.

Pierre-Luc Dubois normally hates losing. He loses the hockey game, 7-2 against Pittsburgh, and that sucks. He loses his fight against Crosby, and that really sucks. He loses his dignity on the Pens' locker room floor, and... Maybe that doesn't suck as much as he thought it would.

“Stoplight system?” he asked, and EJ nodded, the short hair brushing Nate’s cheek. Nate turned his head and bit EJ, gently, right behind his ear. “Words, please.” “Stoplights are good,” EJ said. He sounded mostly normal, which was fine; Nate would get him there. “Good,” Nate said, and EJ shivered slightly under him. Nate moved his thumbs in little circles on EJ’s wrists, feeling the joint there, weirdly fragile under the shift of his skin.

Geno is ready to make the transition from his kink.com men in bondage subscription to real life.