HERE HAVE SOME MORE FOODPORN!AU: NO PORN HERE, BUT THERE IS SOME SID
The thing is, Zhenya loves hockey.
He can’t remember a time when being on the ice, chasing pucks around didn’t make him happy. From the time he realised that ‘professional hockey player’ was a job he could have, he knew this was what he was going to do with his life.
What he doesn’t love is the sports science side of it. He gets that it’s important to keep an eye on what he eats- making sure he has enough energy, enough weight, to get through the season without becoming a shell of bone and muscle- but he just really fucking misses being able to just eat a burger or three without worrying if it would fuck with his food plan. He misses not being watched by a hawk by nutritionists every time the team is at an event not catered specifically for hungry NHL players (empty calories, empty calories everywhere).
He supposed that was why watching Patrick enjoy himself so shamelessly indulge in contrabanded foods got Zhenya so hot and hard and horny. Almost six months of weekly personal videos, and he still couldn’t get enough of watching the beautiful man. He hadn’t invested in another video as… expensive and shameless as his cup winning one (which he watched almost every day the summer after. If he wasn’t so wary of his phone being hacked, he’d keep it saved there so he could use the image of Patrick’s well built body covered in His number as a pick me up on the road).
Instead he’d expanded his collection to include Patrick feeding himself oysters (throwing back his head, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed), cherries (lips wrapping around the fruit, pulling it firmly from the stem, juices staining his lips as he bit through soft flesh), and- most shamelessly- one of Patrick eating a lollipop (sucking, slurping, and long slow shots of a clever tongue wrapping around the candy). Patrick clearly enjoyed food, and Zhenya loved to watch him enjoy it.
Not like the Penguins Nutrition Team. Sadistic assholes probably thought a treat was something including the words organic and flourless and sugarfree. They must get off on making Zhenya miserable.
The rest of the team got attention too, but the nutritionists really had it out for Zhenya; as if as soon as they took their eyes off him, he’d destroy their precious food plan and gorge himself on contraband goods (he would. Just to see their faces when he admitted that yes, he was the one who ate the rest of the cake/pie/pelmeni/muffins/mini pizza). It had culminated in management deciding that at events during the season, Zhenya was to have a chaperone always, to ensure he couldn’t spite eat.
The worst of them was Crosby. He’d been with the team for a couple of years- started interning with them as part of his degree a few years after Zhenya had fled from the KHL- and had eventually been named their head nutritionist after their last one had been offered a better job somewhere out west. He’d completely overhauled their Diet and Nutrition strategies in the years since, and just thinking about it made Zhenya want to drive to the nearest bakery and stuff himself with the most sugary-buttery-salty things he could buy.
Crosby seemed like a nice enough guy, if a bit solemn and serious about his job, but his campaign against all things tasty and enjoyable both during and outside of the season frustrated Zhenya to no end.
Sidney Crosby was the enemy and Zhenya lived to make him red in the face from frustration when he realised that Zhenya was cheating on his food plan again.
Crosby had cornered him in the hallway after the morning’s ice time. His arms were crossed over his chest and it just highlighted how badly fitted his suit was- baggy around his arms and shoulders and much too long. Zhenya wondered if Crosby had ever learned to dress himself properly, or if he just grabbed the first thing that fit off the rack. Even when he showed up in workout clothes, they looked three sizes too big.
“Malkin. I know you think this is a joke but-”
“No, not joke!” Zhenya is quick to interrupt Crosby before he can get the full lecture. He’s sat through way too many of them this season already. “I’m know; not allowed to eat at party tonight. There to talk to sponsors only. Have dinner before go.” Crosby raises an eyebrow and his lips thin into a severely disbelieving frown.
“You can eat, but nothing fried and none of the deserts.” a compromise they’ve been trying to sell Zhenya on all season. “And Cam stays with you all night.”
Zhenya’s head falls back with a moan that he’s been told makes him sound like a sad cow (fuck you too Tanger). Cam is the worst of Crosby’s disciples- a sports science intern who is too eager to please his boss now that the awe of working with NHL players has faded.
“Would rather do ten hours press. He worst. Not let me drink. ever.” Crosby snorts.
“You shouldn’t be drinking during the season,” Crosby lectures. “I can’t really stop you, but it is better for your performance to limit alcohol intake.”
“No drinking, no eating, no fun. How you have fun?” He whines. Crosby expression twists into something Zhenya doesn’t know how to interpret- if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Crosby was embarrassed.
“I have fun!” His eyes are wide, face indignant. A little part of Zhenya notices how attractive Crosby would be- if he could actually dress himself.
“Pffff. Everyone know you not know proper fun, Crosby.” Zhenya teases “Think Kale is fun. Get excited at farmers market.”
The flush that fills Crosby’s cheeks warms something inside of him. It’s different to the angry, blotchy red Zhenya is used to seeing, and paired with the way Crosby is actually talking to him- instead of telling him off and stomping back to his office- Zhenya finds himself caught off guard at the wave of attraction he feels for his nutritionist.
“It was new! There hadn’t been one in my area since I moved! And they have a stall that does really great homemade cheesecakes, okay?” Zhenya lets out a startled laugh.
“Since when you eat dessert? Here I’m thinking you only eat fancy protein salad and steam chicken!”
“Just because I care about my body, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy food. It’s called moderation.” Crosby gives him a pointed look, eyes flicking down Zhenya’s body “Which is something you could really use.”
“Why use when is so fun to make you mad? Have you come tell me am in trouble.” he teases, and the flush deepens on Crosby’s cheeks. Zhenya realises that he may or may not be flirting with the enemy.
“Well maybe I’ll just have to supervise you myself” Crosby replies, not quite meeting Zhenya’s eyes. Oh.
“Yes?” he nonchalantly raises an eyebrow, mouth sliding into a lazy smile “You going to watch me eat, always?” which, he’s never actually thought of himself on that side of the scenario. He wonders if it would get him as hot and bothered as he does watching Patrick’s videos.
For some reason, Crosby looks mortified. Maybe he just isn’t as into watching people eat as Zhenya is- a thought that makes Zhenya kind of sad. Or maybe he just isn’t used to being flirted with? Crosby has always come across as quiet and serious in the past- Zhenya doesn’t think he has actually seen him laugh in the time they’ve worked together- and he doesn’t seem confident in himself. Always hiding behind his desk, his clothes, his employees. Maybe if Zhenya wants to take this further, he needs to be a bit less…. aggressive?
“So, will see you tonight? Sid?”
Crosby gives him a wide eyed stare, looking almost unsure at the way this conversation had turned. Zhenya couldn’t blame him- he had come to tell off one of his more reluctant players and ended up being flirted with about food.
“Uh, yeah, okay. Tonight” Crosby was definitely flustered as Zhenya watched him turn on the spot and rush from the room. A slow smirk spread across his lips. Maybe if he seduced the nutritionist, he could get away with convincing Crosby to let him have more cheat days.
Show Crosby how good food could be.
Maybe even get to show him how good Patrick could make food look.