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Summary: Danny's trying to be quiet, late night with the door locked after the kids are asleep. (Accidental kinksters.)
Warning/Enticement: Kink.
Story on AO3
Danny's trying to be quiet, late night with the door locked after the kids are asleep. He's trying, and usually he manages it, but usually he isn't on his back with Claude thrusting so slowly into him that Danny starts to doubt there will ever be an end to this. It'll just be him and Claude in the dark until the end of time.
Danny's swearing at Claude in French and English, trying to bite back moans, demanding Claude do something. Claude just keeps on with the same slow, steady rhythm.
"Please," Danny says, just a little too loud.
Claude still doesn't change his rhythm. What he does instead is put his hand over Danny's mouth, and it's like it ignites something inside Danny. He's going to come the moment he touches his cock.
"Claude," he says, tries to say.
Claude's other hand is on his hip, holding him in place, and Claude's looking down at him. Danny grabs at Claude's shoulders, digging his fingers in, trying to drag Claude even closer to him. He can't speak, can't move into Claude's thrusts, but he can do this. He can pull Claude down, can meet Claude's eyes, and watch them widen, watch the moment Claude realizes this is something different.
Then Claude moves, fast and hard, his hands still on Danny, not letting him speak, not letting him do anything but take what Claude's letting him have.
Claude doesn't have his hands - he thinks about Claude having his hands, and the groan ripples up his throat and gets stopped by Claude's palm - and Danny can't wait, not for another moment, and he barely touches himself, one, two, three strokes of his cock, and he's coming.
"Danny," Claude says, always so good at staying quiet but still forceful, still like Danny's name means something, and he doesn't move his hands until after he's come and he needs them to deal with the condom.
Danny protests when Claude moves, a tiny sound in his throat, hand gripping Claude's arm.
"Just a second," Claude says, and he kisses Danny, deep but not long enough.
He's away from Danny for less than a minute, wiping them both clean with tissues from the nightstand, dropping them and the condom into the trash can next to the bed, and then he's back in the space between Danny's legs, covering him and kissing him and letting Danny hold on.
"Danny," Claude says. He's running his hand through Danny's hair, hand on Danny's cheek making Danny look at him. "That was-" He shakes his head, like he doesn't know what it was.
"I know," Danny says. His voice is rough, like Claude made him scream instead of not letting him speak. "We should probably talk about it." He catches Claude's hand, holds it against his cheek. "But not now. Now, just." He keeps his other arm tight around Claude.
"Okay," Claude murmurs. He kisses Danny, stretches away to turn off the lamp, and keeps kissing him in the dark.
They don't talk about it, too busy with hockey and the boys and everyday life, but in a hotel room later, the night before a day off, when Claude holds up a strip of cloth, the tie he was wearing earlier, and asks, "Can I tie your hands?" Danny holds them out, wrists held together, and doesn't say a word.
Warning/Enticement: Kink.
Story on AO3
Danny's trying to be quiet, late night with the door locked after the kids are asleep. He's trying, and usually he manages it, but usually he isn't on his back with Claude thrusting so slowly into him that Danny starts to doubt there will ever be an end to this. It'll just be him and Claude in the dark until the end of time.
Danny's swearing at Claude in French and English, trying to bite back moans, demanding Claude do something. Claude just keeps on with the same slow, steady rhythm.
"Please," Danny says, just a little too loud.
Claude still doesn't change his rhythm. What he does instead is put his hand over Danny's mouth, and it's like it ignites something inside Danny. He's going to come the moment he touches his cock.
"Claude," he says, tries to say.
Claude's other hand is on his hip, holding him in place, and Claude's looking down at him. Danny grabs at Claude's shoulders, digging his fingers in, trying to drag Claude even closer to him. He can't speak, can't move into Claude's thrusts, but he can do this. He can pull Claude down, can meet Claude's eyes, and watch them widen, watch the moment Claude realizes this is something different.
Then Claude moves, fast and hard, his hands still on Danny, not letting him speak, not letting him do anything but take what Claude's letting him have.
Claude doesn't have his hands - he thinks about Claude having his hands, and the groan ripples up his throat and gets stopped by Claude's palm - and Danny can't wait, not for another moment, and he barely touches himself, one, two, three strokes of his cock, and he's coming.
"Danny," Claude says, always so good at staying quiet but still forceful, still like Danny's name means something, and he doesn't move his hands until after he's come and he needs them to deal with the condom.
Danny protests when Claude moves, a tiny sound in his throat, hand gripping Claude's arm.
"Just a second," Claude says, and he kisses Danny, deep but not long enough.
He's away from Danny for less than a minute, wiping them both clean with tissues from the nightstand, dropping them and the condom into the trash can next to the bed, and then he's back in the space between Danny's legs, covering him and kissing him and letting Danny hold on.
"Danny," Claude says. He's running his hand through Danny's hair, hand on Danny's cheek making Danny look at him. "That was-" He shakes his head, like he doesn't know what it was.
"I know," Danny says. His voice is rough, like Claude made him scream instead of not letting him speak. "We should probably talk about it." He catches Claude's hand, holds it against his cheek. "But not now. Now, just." He keeps his other arm tight around Claude.
"Okay," Claude murmurs. He kisses Danny, stretches away to turn off the lamp, and keeps kissing him in the dark.
They don't talk about it, too busy with hockey and the boys and everyday life, but in a hotel room later, the night before a day off, when Claude holds up a strip of cloth, the tie he was wearing earlier, and asks, "Can I tie your hands?" Danny holds them out, wrists held together, and doesn't say a word.