Sidney Crosby isn't the only omega playing in the NHL, but he is the only one suffering from heat-delay.

Patrick Kane has soft hands.

Patrick Kane has soft hands.

When Patrick met Jonny for the first time, it was because they'd both just been picked for the same hockey team. When Patrick netted his first goal during practice, Jonny skated over to give him a congratulatory hug and, well, it's not like he didn't sometimes shift on accident, when he was excited or happy, but it hadn't happened at practice in ages.

It takes him two months, one more heat, and the NHL omega entry course before he realizes that he was meant to let one of them take him through it. They don't do it like that in Sweden, which Nicklas mans up and valiantly explains to the room after he makes it back from camp. They don't use humans as tools. All people are people, and Nicklas would never — he couldn't imagine having a teammate inside him every time he fell into heat, however willing they might be. His body is his own, and they all touch him far more than enough already. He refrains from mentioning that last point to the team.

Geno was in pre-heat when he showed up at the rink: Sid could smell it on him. Geno swanned into the locker room with his head held high, kind of glowing with self-satisfaction, and smelling ripe with it, right on the edge of tipping over.

Alex is giving him a confused look, and Sid realizes that he has failed to ask a pretty basic question. “Alex? Have you done this before? Not heat, obviously, just—been a guide, had a guide, whatever.” Alex smiles – a sardonic, twisting thing. “Don’t you know, Sidney Crosby? I’m bad, terrible captain, most selfish alpha, won’t be heat-guide like good Canadian captain.” He laughs, and it sounds more like a cough. “I’m think everybody know, they talk about so much.”

You are not your biology. Tyler’s mother had told him that so many times growing up. When he told her he wanted to play hockey but was afraid to go up against so many alphas. You are not your biology. When an alpha triggered his heat during a scrum and Tyler had to be carried off the ice, fever already burning up his bones. You are not your biology. Tyler wishes he could believe her.

Sid growls. He can’t help it. It’s wrong. Malkin is whimpering and crying and struggling against his restraints. His scent is all fear and chemicals and something deeper, something dark and oppressing. Sid thinks it’s anger but it’s too bitter to try and get a proper read on.

Geno is a beta. That doesn't mean he isn't the team's omega.

“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.

In which Evgeni Malkin comes to America as one of the few omegas in pro hockey, lights up the NHL, and spends a lot of time wondering why Sidney Crosby is so damn weird.

At the 2014 Olympics, Russia injected Zhenya with a bond blocker, same as the last two times he'd been to the games. Only this time, it brought him to his knees and left him gasping, feeling like his soul was ripped from his body. As an unbonded omega, the shot should have no effect. It should have only targeted an active bond. Unbeknownst to Zhenya, Sid collapsed on the ice at the same time.

"I think I have to get bonded," Sid said in a hollow voice, cutting off Geno's building outrage. "Wait, what?" Geno asked, mind jumping like a car on a blown tire. "To who?" "Anybody." Sid's eyes were unfocused, staring through the wall in front of him. "I don't know. I just need to bond." "That's a story," Geno scoffed. He had always thought they had good sex education in Canada, but apparently, the rumors persisted there, too. "You don't stop heat if you bond." "Heat?" Sid asked, eyes squinched up curiously. "G—I'm not. You know I'm an alpha, right?" *** Or five times Sid couldn't bond with an omega and one time he did.

“Sid, I’m so—I’m sorry,” Geno said. “My stupid—I’m ruin everything, I—” “Shut up, Geno,” Sidney said, already intensely weary of listening to Geno’s self-recrimination. “You’ve barely even done anything.” Geno’s voice dropped what sounded like an entire octave. “But I want to.”

Tyler is an excellent bro, and he endeavors to provide excellent bro action.

The NHLOmega GroupMe isn't particularly helpful or professional, but the gossip (and the dick pics) make it worth the headache. Olli's just glad to be here.

Beau has a good feeling about this season.

Marc was fine with being an omega, and then he went and imprinted on Kris Letang.

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

The inside of the car is hot. Someone should crack a window. Instead, Zhenya curls closer to Sid’s side. “Did you hear me?” “Hm?” Zhenya rubs his cheek against Sid’s hair. It’s damp and curling, almost soft. Sid huffs, sending fresh eddies of his scent whirling. “I asked why your heat suppressants stopped working.”

“Sidney comes highly recommended,” Zhenya hears at the edge of his consciousness.

“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.

Zhenya checks everything one last time: the artificial slick goes in the pocket of his jeans, and yes, the bottle of wine for Sid’s collection is nestled in a wood box in the back seat. He’d actually gone out and bought cream cheese to make a cheesecake on autopilot before he’d remembered – food is an alpha’s courting-gift, not an omega's. He'd thrown the cream cheese out, and bought the wine the next day.

Tipping back in the chair, Sid craned his neck to look up at him. He inhaled through his nose and caught the warm-metal scent of Geno’s post-heat bleed. “I can help you with that, too,” he murmured.

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

Kissing and dentata.

Jonny's not expecting his heat to come on so suddenly. And he's definitely not expecting to be in a broken elevator when it does.

It’s been decades since a Switch was of enough importance and interest to society to be documented so no one cares much anymore. But also, no one really knows how to handle it. All the doctors he’s ever been to just caution him to be careful as he grows and learns.

Dylan squeezes Jack’s arm. Jack opens his eyes again, not even realising he’d let them slip shut. “We’re saying you should call us when your heat hits.”

“You’re an investment,” Pat had told Sid over and over. “You’re a talent, and we’re not letting the league freeze you out for this.” The NHL demands omegas be bonded to play. Sid, unwilling to lose hockey, agrees to enter into a bond with the Penguins' draft prospect Evgeni Malkin. It does not go as they planned.

Wilson and Latta and an omega in heat.

It was hot, and Sid felt kind of weird about thinking it was hot. This guy was screwing himself on camera for money. That wasn’t really Sid’s scene. He closed the browser window. Fine for other people, but not his thing.

Patrick is in heat.

Jamie remembered the first time he spoke to Tyler Seguin, or rather, Jamie remembered the first time Tyler Seguin spoke to him. He hadn’t even been fully aware of the situation, sitting and waiting for their names to be called at the All-Star Game, even then he’d kept catching himself glancing at Tyler from across the room even though he hadn’t meant to. It was just that Tyler Seguin happened to the the best thing he had ever smelled in his life. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice guy and all, but I don’t really do Alphas, you know? You’re all way too demanding and stuck in your ways so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop looking at me like you’re a starving dog and I’m a steak okay?” Tyler had said.

Evgeni Malkin goes into rut on the ice in North Dakota.

Sid has had a lot of strange meetings as the captain of the Penguins but this is by far the strangest. “You want to me to do what?” Sid asks, hoping he’d misheard Mike. ***** Sidney Crosby goes off his suppressants for a chance at the Stanley Cup and love.

Sidney holds out his hand and they shake. They don’t bond then, although people like to think that’s when it happened.

Geno has always been up in Sid’s personal space. Geno has been known to delight in the fact that he’s accepted there before when most people aren’t, so it isn’t a surprise to have Geno plastered to his back while they are waiting on an early morning flight.

As a prince and an alpha, Geno needs to get bonded before he turns thirty. With his birthday fast approaching, he returns to Russia to find a suitable omega. The only problem is that Sid has secretly been in love with Geno for years.

If it's a choice between bonding and hockey, Zhenya is going to choose hockey every time.

Nicky’s an omega with a heat problem. Ovi volunteers as tribute.

Sidney would really like to be able to draw the line at being sexually attracted to his breath mints. Or, when Sidney was forced to do a whole lot of growing up

Tyler has gone so long without touching an alpha that it's starting to have a negative effect on him. Good thing Jamie is always willing to help him out.

"The lawyers have found a pretty good loophole," Pat said. "It's not a loophole, it's a long-standing cultural tradition," Mario said, glancing at Sidney. "It's a fucking loophole," Pat reiterated. "But it's a great one."

“What is it that you do, Omega Malkin?” Sid says eventually, tired of the guessing game. Apparently, he’s asked a controversial question. There’s a tension in the air. Mrs. Malkin starts giving a very particular look to her son and Omega Malkin shifts in his seat and straightens his spine like he’s gearing up for a fight. “Hockey,” Omega Malkin says evenly. Sid’s fork slips from his grip and clatters against his plate. He looks up and across the table at Omega Malkin. -- or; Sidney Crosby is an unbonded werewolf. So is Evgeni Malkin.

Dylan wants both of them to shut up and Connor to just put his dick in him already, but he knows this is crossing a lot of boundaries for the both of them and communication is important.

Jonny’s never spent a heat with another guy, alpha or no. Never had an honest-to-god-dick-attached-knot inside him. Never been with someone he used to daydream about lifting his ass up for, even on suppressants.

Jordan’s always been kind of jealous of people with dynamics, like Taylor.

“Guys?” Tom asks, yawning, as he pokes his head into the den. “Whoa! Whoa, okay,” he says. “I—” Andre laughs, loud, easy, so Tom doesn’t think he needs to run. “Stay,” he says, giving a lazy wave to the couch.