Fic: Holding on to Feel the Same
Title: Holding on to Feel the Same
Fandom: Hockey RPF
Characters: Claude Giroux/Danny Briere
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Work of fiction. Never really happened.
Summary: Claude would've finally been ready, but now it may be too late.
Author's Notes: Official sequel to This May Never Start and like the first fic pretty much wrote itself in reaction to the news, though this time anticipation gave me more time to think it out.
When Claude first heard from Danny he’d officially been notified he was being bought out, he told Danny apologetically he would call back in an hour. He spent that hour just pacing around, trying to deal with it, really. Then he called back and asked if he had the kids there. “Not today; Sylvie has them,” Danny answered. “They’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Five hours later Danny is letting him in for a night alone together, and tonight he has to stay the entire time, so he can see the boys tomorrow. Which won’t be the first time he’s done that; far from it. In fact, by the end of their time together in Germany, they almost always finished nights together if they started them that way, but of course that was all easier when it was just the two of them.
It’s a strange thing for Claude Giroux, to think of Germany with such longing, especially when he doubts Danny does; he never likes being away from the boys. But somehow, when they’d been there and away from everything else in their lives except hockey, Claude hadn’t been afraid the way he still is now. Their first time had happened their first night in Berlin. If anyone asks Claude what the happiest days of his life have been so far, there are a few he could list, but if he was honest a lot of them would involve Danny and German ice.
Though too many more of them would also involve Danny, and Caelan, and Carson, and Cameron. The thought that he might now go months without seeing any of them is still not one Claude has quite accepted yet.
“I’m glad you came,” Danny says to as he takes his overnight bag. “For more than one reason. The two of us had to talk anyway, and it’s a good to do it face to face. It’s about the boys.”
That thought so absorbs Claude he follows Danny to the kitchen and accepts a drink from him on autopilot. They sit down in the living room, and Danny says, “Sylvie and I have been talking on and off pretty much since we realized this was a possibility. We haven’t decided yet at all, but we’re seriously considering having the kids stay in Philadelphia with her, especially if I sign a short contract.”
“That makes sense,” says Claude, as both relief and sadness hit him at once, and both of them hard. On one hand, seeing the boys more often after all would make this hurt a hundred times less. On the other, Danny having to be away from them hurts him a hundred times more.
“It does,” Danny agrees, “and if we do that, it would be with the thought that you would be involved with them, and you would help her out. Which is one thing; the two of you have to promise to get along.”
“I can if she can,” says Claude immediately. He and Sylvie have kind of avoided dealing with each other for most of their shared history together, but if Danny can do it these days, Claude knows he can too.
“She said the same thing,” said Danny, and he wore a faint smile, but then it faded, as he said, “but that’s not all she said. She’s not blind, Claude. Since we came back from Germany she’s been asking questions about the two of us. I’ve avoided answering her in the past, but she says now if you’re going to be the daily male figure in their lives, I need to tell her what’s going on. And she’s right; she really should know.”
He was telling himself that as much as Claude. He didn’t have to, exactly; they both knew it. The question was how, when even now Danny usually kept his conversations with her short, still afraid one of them would say the wrong thing and wreck hard-earned détente, and even if she suspected already, they couldn’t know how she’d react to actually hearing about it.
Not to mention Danny’s followup question: “What should I tell her, Claude? I know the two of us have never really done definitions for this, and that’s been fine, but I’m going to need one now. She’s going to need one. Heck, they’re going to need one, ultimately. At least they need to know how long you might stay in their lives.”
And Claude had known for some time he was going to have to face this, and soon, though that doesn’t make him any more prepared for it. Nor, even, has the realization that had hit only after Danny had called him earlier that day when no longer did any good, that had Danny been able to stay in Philadelphia, he would have been. That even if he was still afraid, he would have been able to push past it, that in the fall he would have come to Danny’s home and thrown himself at his feet, basically, moved back in if that was what Danny wanted, given him everything he hadn’t been ready to give him before. But now he doesn’t know if he can be ready to do that when Danny’s home might be on the other side of the continent, or he might be part of the rival team they would fight tooth and nail against for a single available playoff berth, or he might even meet someone else on his new team, someone who might become as important to him as Claude has; even if his relationship with that person was strictly platonic it still might happen; Claude knows there were too many times since he moved out when he was hopelessly jealous of Sean.
Danny sits there and waits; Claude has no doubt he’ll wait there all night if it takes Claude that long. It makes him love him so much that’s the first thing that comes out: “I love you.” Finally said nearly two years after Danny first said it to him, and Claude was too chicken to even fully belief him; he still feels terrible over that. “Tell her we’re trying to make it work. I wish I could promise we’ll succeed.”
“You mean that, Claude?” Danny asks it in the quietest, most timid voice Claude has ever heard come out of him, as if this was all he could possibly ask for out of Claude. Which makes Claude feel more terrible, because Danny deserves someone who will give him more than this.
But he’s not going to offer what he doesn’t know he can give, so he just says, “I mean it. And I can promise you, Danny, if the boys do stay in Philly, I’ll look after them as if I already was their stepfather.” He even considers promising more, promising to stay involved in their lives beyond that, but that’s still more than he dares; it’s too far into an uncertain future.
And then he can’t say more anyway, because Danny’s kissing him frantically, and when he gets like this Claude can only kiss him back, pull his small body close and let him touch, because Danny’s hands can move fast and even overwhelmed Claude once upon a time, but that at least no longer frightens him; now he can bear them going like lightning from his shoulders to his hips across his ass(he wonders if he should even let Danny fuck him tonight; the few times they’ve had the patience for that Claude’s always topped).
They don’t part when they’ve stopped kissing either, heads pressed together, breathing against each other still. “You’ll have to be involved in the discussions from now on, too,” Danny tells him between pants; he’s still breathing hard, Claude thinks almost as much with emotion as with their recent exertion. “Where I sign, how long I sign, and what we do with the kids, ultimately.”
That’s definitely a new level of privilege for Claude with the Brieres, and he feels grateful even as it frightens him even more. But all he can manage in response is, “Please don’t sign for the Penguins,” which just makes Danny laugh softly against him.
He pulls away then; Claude feels his absence. “How long are you planning to stay here?” he asks.
Claude hasn’t thought about it beyond being there the next morning to meet with the boys. He takes a moment to think, and says, “I’m free for at least the rest of this week, if you want.”
“I do want. I think Caelan at least pretty much knows already and the other two at least suspect. We’ll tell all of them and Sylvie when they arrive tomorrow. And then I want you to come back later in the summer, if you can.”
“I can,” says Claude. “And I will.”
Fandom: Hockey RPF
Characters: Claude Giroux/Danny Briere
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Work of fiction. Never really happened.
Summary: Claude would've finally been ready, but now it may be too late.
Author's Notes: Official sequel to This May Never Start and like the first fic pretty much wrote itself in reaction to the news, though this time anticipation gave me more time to think it out.
When Claude first heard from Danny he’d officially been notified he was being bought out, he told Danny apologetically he would call back in an hour. He spent that hour just pacing around, trying to deal with it, really. Then he called back and asked if he had the kids there. “Not today; Sylvie has them,” Danny answered. “They’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Five hours later Danny is letting him in for a night alone together, and tonight he has to stay the entire time, so he can see the boys tomorrow. Which won’t be the first time he’s done that; far from it. In fact, by the end of their time together in Germany, they almost always finished nights together if they started them that way, but of course that was all easier when it was just the two of them.
It’s a strange thing for Claude Giroux, to think of Germany with such longing, especially when he doubts Danny does; he never likes being away from the boys. But somehow, when they’d been there and away from everything else in their lives except hockey, Claude hadn’t been afraid the way he still is now. Their first time had happened their first night in Berlin. If anyone asks Claude what the happiest days of his life have been so far, there are a few he could list, but if he was honest a lot of them would involve Danny and German ice.
Though too many more of them would also involve Danny, and Caelan, and Carson, and Cameron. The thought that he might now go months without seeing any of them is still not one Claude has quite accepted yet.
“I’m glad you came,” Danny says to as he takes his overnight bag. “For more than one reason. The two of us had to talk anyway, and it’s a good to do it face to face. It’s about the boys.”
That thought so absorbs Claude he follows Danny to the kitchen and accepts a drink from him on autopilot. They sit down in the living room, and Danny says, “Sylvie and I have been talking on and off pretty much since we realized this was a possibility. We haven’t decided yet at all, but we’re seriously considering having the kids stay in Philadelphia with her, especially if I sign a short contract.”
“That makes sense,” says Claude, as both relief and sadness hit him at once, and both of them hard. On one hand, seeing the boys more often after all would make this hurt a hundred times less. On the other, Danny having to be away from them hurts him a hundred times more.
“It does,” Danny agrees, “and if we do that, it would be with the thought that you would be involved with them, and you would help her out. Which is one thing; the two of you have to promise to get along.”
“I can if she can,” says Claude immediately. He and Sylvie have kind of avoided dealing with each other for most of their shared history together, but if Danny can do it these days, Claude knows he can too.
“She said the same thing,” said Danny, and he wore a faint smile, but then it faded, as he said, “but that’s not all she said. She’s not blind, Claude. Since we came back from Germany she’s been asking questions about the two of us. I’ve avoided answering her in the past, but she says now if you’re going to be the daily male figure in their lives, I need to tell her what’s going on. And she’s right; she really should know.”
He was telling himself that as much as Claude. He didn’t have to, exactly; they both knew it. The question was how, when even now Danny usually kept his conversations with her short, still afraid one of them would say the wrong thing and wreck hard-earned détente, and even if she suspected already, they couldn’t know how she’d react to actually hearing about it.
Not to mention Danny’s followup question: “What should I tell her, Claude? I know the two of us have never really done definitions for this, and that’s been fine, but I’m going to need one now. She’s going to need one. Heck, they’re going to need one, ultimately. At least they need to know how long you might stay in their lives.”
And Claude had known for some time he was going to have to face this, and soon, though that doesn’t make him any more prepared for it. Nor, even, has the realization that had hit only after Danny had called him earlier that day when no longer did any good, that had Danny been able to stay in Philadelphia, he would have been. That even if he was still afraid, he would have been able to push past it, that in the fall he would have come to Danny’s home and thrown himself at his feet, basically, moved back in if that was what Danny wanted, given him everything he hadn’t been ready to give him before. But now he doesn’t know if he can be ready to do that when Danny’s home might be on the other side of the continent, or he might be part of the rival team they would fight tooth and nail against for a single available playoff berth, or he might even meet someone else on his new team, someone who might become as important to him as Claude has; even if his relationship with that person was strictly platonic it still might happen; Claude knows there were too many times since he moved out when he was hopelessly jealous of Sean.
Danny sits there and waits; Claude has no doubt he’ll wait there all night if it takes Claude that long. It makes him love him so much that’s the first thing that comes out: “I love you.” Finally said nearly two years after Danny first said it to him, and Claude was too chicken to even fully belief him; he still feels terrible over that. “Tell her we’re trying to make it work. I wish I could promise we’ll succeed.”
“You mean that, Claude?” Danny asks it in the quietest, most timid voice Claude has ever heard come out of him, as if this was all he could possibly ask for out of Claude. Which makes Claude feel more terrible, because Danny deserves someone who will give him more than this.
But he’s not going to offer what he doesn’t know he can give, so he just says, “I mean it. And I can promise you, Danny, if the boys do stay in Philly, I’ll look after them as if I already was their stepfather.” He even considers promising more, promising to stay involved in their lives beyond that, but that’s still more than he dares; it’s too far into an uncertain future.
And then he can’t say more anyway, because Danny’s kissing him frantically, and when he gets like this Claude can only kiss him back, pull his small body close and let him touch, because Danny’s hands can move fast and even overwhelmed Claude once upon a time, but that at least no longer frightens him; now he can bear them going like lightning from his shoulders to his hips across his ass(he wonders if he should even let Danny fuck him tonight; the few times they’ve had the patience for that Claude’s always topped).
They don’t part when they’ve stopped kissing either, heads pressed together, breathing against each other still. “You’ll have to be involved in the discussions from now on, too,” Danny tells him between pants; he’s still breathing hard, Claude thinks almost as much with emotion as with their recent exertion. “Where I sign, how long I sign, and what we do with the kids, ultimately.”
That’s definitely a new level of privilege for Claude with the Brieres, and he feels grateful even as it frightens him even more. But all he can manage in response is, “Please don’t sign for the Penguins,” which just makes Danny laugh softly against him.
He pulls away then; Claude feels his absence. “How long are you planning to stay here?” he asks.
Claude hasn’t thought about it beyond being there the next morning to meet with the boys. He takes a moment to think, and says, “I’m free for at least the rest of this week, if you want.”
“I do want. I think Caelan at least pretty much knows already and the other two at least suspect. We’ll tell all of them and Sylvie when they arrive tomorrow. And then I want you to come back later in the summer, if you can.”
“I can,” says Claude. “And I will.”