Archive of Our Own

Sid's been pacing in a dingy hotel room in Chicago for what seems like forever, and he's just about exhausted every last drop of patience he possesses by now. He looks out the window again, but all he sees is an empty street and a rainy night. Jonny should have been here at least fifteen minutes ago.

This isn't the team hotel, of course; Jonny is too paranoid for that. It's a nondescript, random place that he picked, the kind where you rent rooms by the hour. They don't ask questions at places like this, and they never seem to care who uses their beds. Jonny knows a lot of places like these. And as far as Sid is concerned, he doesn't care where they meet, as long as they do; it doesn't happen often enough to matter to him what the surroundings are like, especially when the promise of having sex with Jonny hangs in the air.

Except there's not going to be any sex if Jonny doesn't show up, and Sid is getting pissed off, waiting for him. Going back for one more pass around the bed, he grabs his cell phone from where he'd left it on the bedside table and angrily types up a text message.

  Where the fuck are you?

He's just about to toss the phone on the bed, and possibly punch something, when a reply finally comes.

  On the other side of the door. Open up?

Sid shakes his head and chuckles, dropping his phone noisily back on the nightstand. He's at the door in two strides, opening it with haste.

"Hey," is all Jonny has time to say before Sid grabs him by the arm and pulls him inside the tiny room.

If this was any normal relationship, Sid would ask what's kept Jonny so long, but since this isn't, he won't. Not that he doesn't care, really, only he knows not to ask. It's not supposed to be any of his business. Instead, he shuts the door and pushes Jonny up against it, crushing their lips together like he's been aching to do since he got to Chicago.

"Whoa! Keep your pants on," says Jonny, panting as he gently but forcefully pushes Sid away.

Sid snorts at that. "Oh no. My pants are definitely coming off. And so are yours."

"Yeah, yeah." Jonny laughs a little. "I meant, relax."

"Are you kidding? I don't have more than a couple hours at best before someone notices I'm not where I said I was going to be, and you just wasted fifteen of those."

"Sorry," Jonny replies, but there's a guilty look on his face that seems to say otherwise. "Traffic," he adds, almost as an afterthought.

"Doesn't matter," Sid tells him with a shrug. He leans in a little closer, saying, "Less talking, more kissing."

But Jonny pushes him back again. "Could we at least move this a little further inside? The doorknob is starting to make quite an impression on me, and I mean that literally."

Sid chuckles as he moves away, unbuckling his belt and tossing his shirt in the direction of a chair before he just about plunges on the bed. A still very much fully clothed Jonny very slowly crawls up next to him.

"A little enthusiasm, maybe?"

"Sorry," says Jonny, giving Sid a lopsided smile. There's something about it that's not quite right, but Sid tries to ignore it, leaning in for a kiss instead.

Except that Jonny really doesn't seem to be into this at all.

"What's the matter?" Sid sighs. He's trying not to sound so impatient, but he is. They're wasting the precious little hours they have; the precious little hours he so very rarely gets in the first place, and he's been aching for them for days now.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Whatever," Jonny replies with a shrug.

But all of a sudden it doesn't seem to really matter anymore, because Jonny is unzipping Sid's pants, hands brushing up against his dick. Sid leans in and kisses Jonny again, making quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt. Jonny's skin is smooth and warm under his touch, and Sid tries to refrain from ripping the damn shirt of his back so he can freely run his hands all over Jonny's upper body.

A needy little groan escapes Sid as Jonny's hand slip down his briefs. He's so hard, and Jonny's hand around him feels so damn wonderful. Sid really hates to do anything that will change that, but they're both still wearing way too many clothes, and those need to come off. Now.

"Get your damn pants off," he mutters, pushing Jonny slightly away. And as Sid urgently shimmies out of his pants and briefs, he goes on, "Your pants, and every last damn bit of clothes you've got on. Right now."

Jonny complies, tossing his garments haphazardly on the floor, before stretching out on the bed again. Then Sid closes the distance between them, chuckling as he gently grabs a handful of Jonny's ass. And for a moment, everything is just the way it should be. It's just the two of them, together, kissing, touching; like the rest of the world doesn't even exist anymore. It's only for a few hours though, and Sid knows he needs to make the most of the time they have left tonight. So he lets his brain wander off to autopilot mode, blissfully forgetting everything except his lover's touches fueling the burning desire inside him.

Except that the moment dies a little abruptly, when Sid realizes that Jonny's suddenly gone a little stiff. He sighs, breaking the kiss, wondering what the hell is so wrong that Jonny can't enjoy their time together tonight when he's usually so eager it's Sid who can barely keep up.

There's a sad look in Jonny's eyes, which is pretty much the last thing Sid expected to see there. Until it hits him that from Jonny's point of view, Sid is the bad guy right now; the guy who scored the goal that drove the nail into the coffin of the Blackhawk's post-season hopes.

"Look," he says, running a hand gently down Jonny's cheek, "I know you guys needed this win to make playoffs and I'm sorry if-"

"It's not about the game," Jonny cuts in, sighing heavily. "I mean, I'm not happy about that of course, but you know I draw the line between this and what happens on the ice."

"What is it, then?"

Jonny shakes his head. "Just toss me a condom, would you?"

For just a second, Sid wants to push a little more and find out what the hell it is that's wrong with Jonny, but it seems clear that Jonny doesn't want to say. It also seems clear that if he does dig into the issue a little more, they're never going to have sex at all. And Sid needs that way too damn badly to jeopardize his chances, so he dismisses his questions and his doubts, reaching into his wallet to fish out a condom instead.

Jonny's head might be a little elsewhere tonight, but he puts well enough enthusiasm into it, thrusting in and out of Sid, to make it possible to pretend there isn't a thing wrong with this picture. In fact, by the time Jonny is done, groaning loudly in ecstasy, Sid has just about forgotten that there was anything the matter in the first place.

Panting, Jonny crashes on the bedspread, rolling on his side to face his lover. He runs a lazy hand up and down Sid's back, staring at his face, a loopy smile on his own.

But the smile fades, and the sadness creeps right back in Jonny's eyes.

"Will you tell me what's making you so sad?"

"It's just..." Jonny starts, then he pushes off the bed. "I should get going."

"Okay," says Sid. It's barely more than a whisper. They still have about an hour before Sid needs to go back to the team hotel, and he wishes Jonny would stay, but he knows better than to try and force him into it.

"Look," Jonny says as he's getting dressed again, "We're...uh, we're not going to be doing this anymore. This was the last time."

"You coulda told me before," says Sid offhandedly, "I would have made it more memorable." He doesn't believe this is the last time. How could it be?

Jonny slowly shakes his head. "It's always memorable with you," he says quietly, looking down at his shirt while he buttons it up. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss it. I just don't want to do this anymore."

When he looks up at Sid, it's obvious by the expression on his face that he's not bluffing; he means it.

Sid pushes himself off the bed abruptly, his head is spinning. Is this really happening? "Why?" he croaks.

As Jonny slips his shoes on and picks up a few stray items that fell out of his pockets, he sighs and explains, "This was all good when I was twenty-one, but I'm older now. I don't want to be a go-to guy for no-strings-attached sex anymore, I want more than that." He runs a nervous hand through his hair. "I want something normal and stable. Something where I'm not just a fucking afterthought."

Without looking back, Jonny walks away to the door. "We're just not on the same page anymore," he adds, as he slips out of the room. "Bye, Sid."

And stupidly, Sid just sits there, blinking like an idiot, because he doesn't know what he should say or do. He certainly doesn't want this to be over, but what right has he to insist that it shouldn't be? It was his idea that nothing be set in stone; his damn rules they've been playing by.

This thing between them, it was neither exclusive nor implied in any way, shape or form, and Sid is the one responsible for making it that way. He's learned the hard way that the worst thing you can do to a beautiful wild bird is to lock it up in a cage, no matter how badly you wish him to stay.

So, right from the start, he's let Jonny do whatever he wanted; and all that time Sid has maintained he was okay with that. All that time he's lied, because he couldn't bear to think what might happen if he held the reigns a little more tightly.

But everything is falling apart anyway, and Sid doesn't know what to do to fix it. Is it even fixable anymore?

It's too late to run to the door. Besides, sprinting through the corridor in a bedsheet and yelling for Jonny to come back seems like a stupid thing to do for so many reasons; Sid stops counting after three.

Instead, he grabs his cell phone, furiously typing a message.

  Come back. Let's talk about this. We can be on the same page.

He waits a minute, two, three, but nothing happens. Panicking, he starts typing again.

  I can do normal & stable. I can do strings attached. As many as you like. Srsly.

He stares blankly at the screen, breathing hard, and before he can think the better of it he types one last message.

  Dammit Jonny, pls don't go. You're so much more than just an afterthought to me.

Sid doesn't even wait for a response before tossing his phone on the bed. He stumbles into the bathroom, too overwhelmed to even see where he's going; he barely avoids crashing into a wall.

There's no one else in the room when he comes out of the shower. There aren't any messages on his phone, either; text or otherwise. He's all alone.

Slowly, Sid gets dressed. Then he straightens up the room a tad because it calms him to put things in order, especially now that his life seems in chaos. Sid doesn't do uncontrolled very well, he doesn't like the unknown; he feels lost in it, swallowed by it.

But delaying the inevitable isn't doing him any good, either. He needs to go, close the door, and leave all of this behind.

So, he takes a deep breath and makes himself walk up to the door. Another deep breath, and he opens it swiftly. And then he gasps, surprised: Jonny is standing right there in the hall.

Sid opens his mouth to speak, but absolutely nothing comes out.

"Did you..." Jonny starts, then clears his throat. "Did you mean that?" He lifts his cellphone up by way of explanation.

"Every last word," says Sid, and he latches onto Jonny in as tight an embrace as his arms will allow. This time, he's determined not to let go.

...the end.