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Grilled Cheesby Ficathon
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Published:
2015-05-10
Updated:
2015-05-20
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3,862
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2/4
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Keep a Smile (like an eat'n park cookie)

Summary:

They might avoid talking about things as best as they could, but if Sidney was willing to apply labels to this thing that was fine with him.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: I Can Live on Bread and Cheese (and only on that? so can a rat)

Chapter Text

He'd been anticipating the sound of a key in the lock all morning so Claude didn't bother getting up from where he was sprawled out on the couch.

"Brought you a present," was the only warning Claude got before a paper bag hit him in the face.

"Fucker," he hissed, reaching for the bag before it fell. He pulled out a few slightly crushed cookies, iced white with demented orange smiley faces on them. "Very cute."

"You idiots and that stupid song." Claude's front door closed with a quiet click. Claude narrowed his eyes as he bit into one, crumbs sticking to the scruff on his face. He grinned through a mouthful as Sidney grimaced at him. "You're disgusting."

"You're gonna suck my dick regardless. Why you fronting, boo?" Claude purposefully spread his legs, stretching his boxers over his crotch. He was already sporting half a chub; he'd been thinking about those lips all morning.

"Quit trying to be ghetto," Sidney said as he kicked off his shoes. One of them left a mark on the wall that made him smile. "It doesn't work for you, and you sound like an idiot."

"We gonna fuck, or what?" Claude asked irritably. He stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth and tossed the bag onto the table. He reached forward and made grabby hands in Sidney's direction. Sidney snorted but came closer anyway, stopping right in front of where Claude was lounging.

Claude propped himself up on one elbow and slid his other hand up Sidney's thigh, right to the bulge in the pocket of his jeans. He rubbed his thumb over the lump he found, watching Sidney's face as he dipped his fingers inside and pulled out the key ring.

"You found my present," Claude said, spinning the keychain around on his finger. The keys attached to it rattled.

"You left those on my pillow. Couldn't really miss it." Sidney grabbed Claude's hand and stilled the movement. He used his grip to pull Claude so he was sitting, then he straddled his lap and wrapped his hands around Claude's neck. "Flower almost saw them," he added absently as he scratched gently at the curls at Claude's nape.

"And what was he doing in your bedroom?" Claude asked, eyes half shut. He tossed the keys on the couch so he could run his hands up Sidney's thighs and grip his ass. Sidney let out a soft huff so he squeezed it again.

"He certainly wasn't doing that." Sidney leaned forward and covered Claude's mouth with his own. After a minute Claude pulled back. Sidney made a noise and ground down against him. He leaned in again but Claude turned his head.

"You didn't say anything."

"To Flower? No." Sidney looked at him like he was crazy. "Have you? Said anything to Schenn, or Jakub?"

"Of course not! I'm not an idiot," Claude said dismissively, ignoring Sidney's pointed look. He slid his hand between them to rub Claude's dick. "But that's not what I meant. I meant about those." He tilted his head at the keys.

"Well, neither did you!" Sidney glared down at him, tensing up. He stopped groping Claude and settled his hand over his stomach instead. "We've talked like four times since we last saw each other."

"You asked! You said you wanted—" Claude cut himself off by leaning forward to bite at Sidney's shoulder. "What are we even doing?"

"I was about to blow you, but you wanted to talk about keys."

"Fucking— fine, forget it. Let's just get off." Claude clenched his jaw and reached for Sidney's jeans.

"If you win," Sidney told the ceiling, slightly out of breath. He stopped to swallow before he said, all in a rush, "when I come back tonight I'll wear your sweater."

Claude turned his head, staring at Sidney's profile. His face was pink, but Claude couldn't tell if it was from the orgasm or the statement.

"Okay."

"Will you be here, or will I need to use my key?"

“If we win the boys will want to go out,” Claude said, hardly apologetic. He laid the back of his hand on Sidney’s stomach, rubbing his knuckles back and forth. “I won’t be long. They’ll want to go to Old City and laugh at Raff trying to pick up girls. He’s awful at it so it'll be fast.”

“If you bring somebody back here…”

“Not this again.” Claude sat up abruptly. He searched for his boxers, then remembered they were in a heap in the living room. He stood and walked to his dresser, pulling out another pair.

“It can’t be ‘this again’ if we never fucking talk about it once.” Sidney sat up too, the sheets pooled around his stomach. Claude shoved his legs into his shorts as Sidney glared at him. “I don’t want to walk in on you doing some fucking puck bunny over the couch I just blew you on.”

“That was once, and it was like two years ago! What do you want from me, a promise?” Claude turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. “How’s this: I haven’t picked up all fucking season.”

“Neither have I!” Sidney pressed his lips together, still breathing hard. “I don’t want to. And I really don't want you to, either.”

“Are you kidding me? I gave you the fucking keys to my house last time I saw you. You think I do that shit for everyone who sucks my dick?”

“Well, thank you!” Sidney bunched the sheets in his fist. “I… have keys for you, too.”

“You do?” Claude blinked at him. Sidney nodded. “Okay, then. Uh, thanks.”

There was a moment where they just looked at each other.

“Why are we even fighting?” Sidney asked tiredly. He reached his hand out and Claude came to him, ignoring Sidney’s hand so he could thread his fingers through his hair.

“Habit,” Claude said with a sardonic grin. Sidney laughed quietly and shifted so he could rest his head on Claude’s stomach and wrap his arms around his waist.

“I don’t want to fight all the time,” Sidney admitted.

“Okay.”

“Not off the ice,” Sidney continued. He turned his head to look up at Claude’s face. Claude was still smiling, but it was softer. “Sixty minutes a night is enough.”

“Okay,” Claude said again. He rubbed the back of Sidney’s neck.

“Are you just humoring me or what?”

“Okay.”

Sidney glared at him. Claude smirked back.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“Sorry, boo.” Sidney made a face at the endearment but his cheeks were definitely pinking up again. Interesting. Claude filed that thought away for later. “Okay. No fighting unless we’ve got eight pounds of padding between us and your pet Russian is glaring at me. Got it.”

“Don’t call him that, jesus,” Sidney grumbled. He ran his hands up the back of Claude’s thighs.

“He is. But fine, no mocking your favorite hockey soulmate off the ice.” Claude rubbed his thumb under Sidney’s ear. Sidney’s eyes fell to half mast and his mouth parted a little. “How long do we have?”

Sidney turned his head to the side to check the clock. “About twenty minutes.”

Claude sighed, all thoughts of a round two flying out the window. “Always running for the door.”

“Our flight out isn’t until early afternoon tomorrow. I can stay the night, if you want.”

“I want,” Claude said without hesitating. They so rarely got to spend the entire night with each other that he didn’t even have to think about it. “Your guys gonna be okay with that?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Claude refrained from making a face. Sidney refrained from making a comment about it. They spent a few minutes running their hands lazily over each other, drinking in the moment, before Claude’s stomach rumbled. Sidney laughed softly and smacked Claude’s ass.

“Get dressed. You can drive me to the Well.”

“I have practice soon, too. In the other direction.” Claude bit his lip, debating over something in his head. “You can, uh. You can take my other car. It’s got GPS so you shouldn’t get too turned around.”

Sidney blinked up at him.

“As long as you bring it back in one piece,” Claude amended. Sidney gave him a small smile.

“Promise there are no Flyers stickers on it of any kind and you’ve got a deal,” he said as he climbed out of bed. “Otherwise the guys might figure out I’m keeping things from them.”

Claude thought about the Flyers swag tossed in the backseat, hats and t-shirts mixed in with random food wrappers and a few Gatorade bottles. He pictured Fleury or Malkin peeking in through the windows and adding two and two together to make four. It didn’t make him break out in hives or anything, which almost made him panic over the lack of panic.

“Nothing that can’t be tossed into the trunk. Keep it at the stadium and you can just drive it back tonight.” He headed out into the living room and began to pick up their scattered clothes. “You want something to eat before you go?”

“I had breakfast,” Sidney shouted back. Claude made his way to the bedroom doorway to fling Sidney’s clothes onto the bed. He took a moment to ogle Sidney’s ass (he was bent over the sink in the master bathroom, brushing his teeth) before heading for the kitchen.

A few minutes later Sidney came in and leaned against the breakfast bar. He was wearing a different shirt than the one he came over in. Claude noticed because it was so much tighter over his shoulders. He didn’t say anything about the casual thievery of clothing, just continued to make his sandwich.

“You and your grilled cheese,” Sidney said, shaking his head. Claude nodded to the brown paper bag on the counter. The familiar key ring was next to it, with a few new additions; a Saturn key and a fob.

“I could live on bread and cheese. Seriously, though, not a scratch,” Claude warned. Sidney rolled his eyes, but walked forward to snag the keys anyway. He leaned in and kissed the back of Claude’s neck. Claude turned his head to give him a proper kiss, with tongue and some teeth.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Sidney was about to pull away when Claude grabbed the brown paper bag and pushed it at his chest.

“For you. I used the right stuff, too. I promise.” Claude ducked in and gave him another kiss, this one much sweeter before pushing him towards the door. "Drive safe, boo."

He was just finishing his sandwich when his phone beeped with an incoming text.

Who has the best boyfriend ever?

It was followed by a picture: a peanut butter sandwich missing a huge bite sitting on top of a brown paper bag. It was resting on a familiar car seat, and in the corner of the picture Claude could make out a black and orange hat in the footwell of the car.

Claude felt something in his chest tighten. They might avoid talking about things as best as they could, but if Sidney was willing to apply labels to this thing that was fine with him.

He got up to get ready for practice. He stared at the t-shirt still laying in a crumbled heap on his bed before he picked it up and put it on. It was a little loose in the shoulders, and it smelled like a vaguely familiar detergent, but he felt that tightness in his chest loosen immediately.

He picked up his phone and took a selfie of himself wearing it, giving the camera his best Zoolander, before sending it off with a short message.

Me obviously. See u tonight boo ♥

Chapter 2: Make Believe You're Next to Me

Chapter Text

It was late in Vienna. Sidney knew this. It was so late it was actually… probably early. Whatever, Sidney deserved this.

He hit call and waited while the phone rang for a few seconds before it was picked up.

“Hey, boo.” It was dim in Claude’s room, but there was enough light filtering in through Claude’s curtains for Sidney to have a clear view of Claude’s naked shoulders. Claude’s hair was a mess, which wasn’t new or shocking, and his voice still had that morning rasp to it. “I’m sorry.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Sidney said immediately. He watched Claude’s face do something weird. Sidney stretched out on his back and angled the phone down his bare chest. Claude hummed, pleased. “In fact, I don’t want to talk at all.” Sidney slid his hand down into his shorts, making sure the camera was aimed perfectly.

“That’s not fair,” Claude whined. Sidney brought the phone up to face level again. Claude’s free hand was fisted in his pillow and he had a stormy look on his face. “I can’t touch you.”

“I know,” Sidney said quietly. “I wish you were here.”

“No you don’t,” Claude shot back, his lips quirking up at the corners. He moved around on his bed and Sidney tried not to get dizzy from the shaking viewscreen. “You wish you were here.”

That much was true. Claude’s hotel bed looked awfully inviting. “Well, I’m not,” Sidney snapped. He couldn’t help himself, and from the look on Claude’s face he knew it too. “I’m sorry, I just. I really don’t want to be here right now.”

“Are you still in New York?” Claude asked, aghast. “Get the fuck out of there right now.”

“No, no. I’m home.” Sidney turned his phone so Claude could see the familiar surroundings of his bedroom. “I just got in. I just wanted to see you.”

“That’s not all you wanted,” Claude said suggestively. He bit his lip, giving the camera his best coy look. He stretched a bit, too, and Sidney wanted nothing more than to put his mouth on his collarbone, bury his face in Claude’s neck and forget about the rest of the world for a few hours.

“I miss you,” Sidney blurted out. He felt his face go red at how candid he sounded, before he remembered Claude wouldn’t care. Claude would probably, in fact, welcome such a statement.

Claude smiled at him, the big dorky one that showed off the silly gap that Sidney loved to mock. “You just saw me two weeks ago.”

“I know, I just wish…” Sidney trailed off, sighing heavily. It didn’t matter what he wished. He knew he was never going to get it. Not any time soon. Probably not for years. “Sorry if I woke you up. I just wanted to see you,” he said again, lamely.

“It’s okay. I needed to get up anyway. Look all you want.”

“I want to do so much more than look right now,” Sidney admitted, watching as Claude angled his camera down his chest, his stomach, coming to stop at where his black sweatpants were tenting. Claude toyed with his waistband, slipping the tips of his fingers just under. “Take it out. Let me see.”

“Anything you want,” Claude said quietly. He pulled his dick out. It was half hard already, and Sidney watched as Claude stroked himself to a full erection. Claude twisted his hand over the head and moaned, suddenly loud in the quiet of Sidney’s room. He had a sudden thought.

“Wait,” he said quickly, a trickle of panic starting to creep in, “aren’t you rooming with someone?”

“Segs,” Claude groaned out, squeezing himself at the tip, his cock fully hard now. “Calm down, Sid. I can hear you panicking. He’s not here. Went out last night, picked up. He’s probably doing the walk of shame right now. Nng, can I stop talking about Segs now? I mean, he’s hot and all, I’ll give him that, but not who I want to be thinking about right now.”

Sidney narrowed his eyes, still fixed on Claude’s dick in his hand. “You think he’s hot?” Claude snorted.

“Everyone thinks Segs is hot, especially Segs.” Claude stopped jerking off long enough to push his sweats down past his knees and off, spreading his legs. “Admit it. You do, too.”

“He’s okay, I guess,” Sidney reluctantly admitted. He rubbed himself through his shorts. “A little full of himself, though.”

“Yeah, but you like that.” The angle shifted again, moving a little further away. It looked like Claude propped the phone up against a pillow so he could use both his hands. Sidney bit his lip and slid his hand inside his shorts again as he watched Claude tug at his balls. “I mean, I’m living proof that narcissism gets you hot.”

“That’s different,” Sidney murmured. He pulled at himself, matching their strokes as Claude’s hand sped up. “I can usually shut you up by shoving my dick in your mouth. I don’t want to put my dick close to anything of his. I've heard the stories.”

“Fuck, yeah, I want your dick in my mouth,” Claude moaned. His hips left the bed, fucking up into his fist. Sidney panted, stroking himself faster now. “That’s the first thing I’m doing after this is over. Coming to see you, putting my mouth all over you.”

“Keep talking,” Sidney choked out, writhing as he watched Claude’s whole body jerk. He propped his phone up on the other pillow so he could use his other hand to tug at a nipple. “Tell me what else you want to do to me.”

“Want to push you up against a wall and drop right to my knees, suck you off until you’re begging me to let you come. But I won’t, not yet.” Claude brought one hand up, presumably to his mouth as he stopped talking for a moment, and when it came back into view again it was slick with spit. “I’ll turn you around and make you bend over for me, get that ass right in my face.”

Sidney inhaled sharply. They’d done that once, early in, and though he’d bitched about Claude’s facial hair scratching him up at the time it had been really fucking good.

“I know, I know, you don’t like that. Fucking waste. Having an ass like that and not liking getting rimmed.”

“I never said I didn’t like it, just your beard,” Sidney said through a groan. “I did. You can.” Sidney couldn’t get out more than a few fragments, thinking of Claude’s talented tongue opening him up.

“I will,” Claude said immediately, his wet hand sliding down between his legs. “Nng, fuck. I’ll— I’ll shave first, so I don’t scratch up that delicate skin of yours. Spread you open with my hands and just fucking bathe you with my tongue. Gonna lick you wet and open, eat you out til you're crying with it.”

Sidney moaned, unable to say anything else. His hand was flying over his dick now as he watched the motion of Claude’s hand between his legs. He was leaking, too, making a mess inside of his boxers.

“I’ll take my time. Play with that gorgeous ass all I want. Use my fingers, too. You’ll be so ready for it I bet I could use three right away. All the way inside, won’t even need lube for it. You’ll be all wet with my spit and they’ll just slide right in. You always look so good when I finger you, like you can barely stand it. And then, when you think you can’t take anymore, I’ll get up and slam my dick inside. Fuck you right there, next to your front door. Won’t even take my clothes off, just pull it out and stick it right in.”

“Yes,” Sidney hissed, his hips thrusting uncontrollably. “Fuck, I want that so bad.”

“Me— me too,” Claude grunted out. He planted his feet on the bed so he could lift his hips, the hand on his dick not even moving anymore, just squeezing the base as his other hand worked between his legs frantically. “I want you, Sid. I want— Nng, Sidney.”

Sidney watched as Claude bucked wildly, coming all over his stomach and chest with a choked cry of his name. Sidney closed his eyes and let go, pressing his face into his pillow as he came and came, wishing he was right there, sharing the same pillow, pressing his face to Claude’s sweaty skin.

After a few moments of silence Claude laughed. Sidney opened his eyes and watched as Claude smeared his come all over his skin. He hummed quietly, too worn out for anything else. Claude turned his head, smiling at him.

“That was great.”

Sidney hummed again in agreement, staring at him sleepily. Claude’s face was so close, yet so far.

“I can’t wait to see you, boo.” Sidney smiled at the endearment. “I have some things to take care of at my place when I’m done here, but after that I’m all yours.”

“Can’t wait,” Sidney said through a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Sidney tensed up. “Still don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know. I’m still sorry about the playoffs.”

Sidney huffed and shook his head, annoyed. “What the fuck? Do you even listen to me at all if I’m not talking about your dick? I said I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“Jesus, sorry for being sad for you. Way to ruin the fucking afterglow.” Sidney got a nice view of Claude’s back as he sat up and tugged at his hair. “I have to go.”

“Claude,” Sidney said, feeling both irritated and contrite at the same time. Claude always managed to produce these confusing feelings, like his gift was making Sidney feel as contrary as possible. “Wait. I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated and angry and I really want to fucking touch you.”

“It’s fine. I get it. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to push.” Claude turned to give Sidney a resigned smile. “Go to sleep. Give me a call when you wake up, eh? I promise I won’t bring it up again.”

“Okay,” Sidney said quietly. He puckered his lips and made an exaggerated kissing noise, which made him feel like an idiot but brought another of those stupid, gap toothed smiles to Claude’s face. “Talk to you later. Have a good morning.”

“Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Sidney ended the call with a smile, then rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. He busied himself for a few minutes with pulling off his soiled underwear, using them to mop up the rest of his come before it dried in his pubes.

He thought about Claude, half a world away and getting ready for his day. His season in Philadelphia might’ve been over, well before Sidney’s was, but he wasn’t wallowing in defeat. He was moving forward, getting himself ready to compete for a gold medal by doing what he did best.

Sidney picked up his phone again. It was still really late, but he didn’t dwell on the time. He just scrolled through his contacts until he found Jim Nill’s name.

Don’t suppose you have room for one more over at Hockey Canada?

Notes:

This was inspired by many things, the brunt of it being the anon who asked for rivals falling for each other and the fallout from it. I'm mostly in fandom for the hatesex (anybody remember the Ladd/Kesler pairing? Yeah, I miss it too) but I'm also a sucker for happy endings, so I was intrigued by how this could go.

Story title comes from the ridiculous Mac Miller song the Flyers play after wins.

Much love to everybody who put up with me yelling/crying at them while I poked at this.

More inspiration:
The Flyers key.
The Sidney/Claude relationship in a nutshell.
Eat'n Park cookies. Gross.