#sidarmy

it did start out as a drunken joke on army's end. sid was so easy to embarrass, and teasing him was the best way army knew to bring the kid out of his shell and loosen him up a bit. it sucked that sid couldn't go out with them in canada or any of the bigger markets because he'd get mobbed the second he stepped foot out of the hotel. it was too much for a kid to have to handle on top of being the supposed savior of a franchise, and army liked to remind sid he was just one of the boys—and a rookie boy at that—every chance he got.

when he accidentally brushes against sid's hard dick, that's where it goes from a joke to something else for army.

His pinkie brushed Sid’s dick, shamefully hard now, and Army paused for one airless second where Sid thought maybe he’d die from the way his heart had seized into his throat, but Army only sighed sleepily against his neck and shifted his hand to cup Sid’s dick.

he could have just pretended he didn't notice, or made another joke about it. but sid was vibrating with tension and army could practically feel the heat waves from sid's embarrassed flush, and he knew if that even if he let it go, it would be something sid would wonder about forever and then maybe it would tip into the bad kind of embarrassment—the kind that eroded trust and confidence. and he was pretty sure sid was into guys, so what the hell. why not.

the way he touched sid gave him some plausible deniability. army wasn't into guys, or at least he'd never done anything with guys. but if he touched sid like he would a girl, it wasn't gay right?

Army only hummed agreeably, and swiped his thumb over just the tip of Sid’s dick, smearing lazy circles through the embarrassing mess of precome he’d already leaked. Then he adjusted his grip to cup Sid’s drawn up balls, tucking two fingers behind them and crooking them in firm pulses that made sparks skitter down Sid’s spine. He couldn’t help the little moan that escaped his clenched teeth. “That feel better?” Army mumbled. He sounded half asleep and Sid wondered how drunk he was, if he even knew who he was in bed with. It struck Sid then, the way Army was touching him—it was like the way you’d finger a girl, petting at her clit and curling your fingers inside her.

army didn't think he'd be so into touching another guy, but sid was going pink all the way down his back and making little choked off noises that weren't that much different from army's girlfriend's. he could tell sid was really into it and really embarrassed about it, and that turned army's crank too.

he keeps going after sid comes because he wants to see what he'll do. will he say something? will he try to stop army? but he doesn't. he just turns his face into the pillow and makes pained noises and jerks erratically in army's hand, and that does so much for army he can't help but come all over the kid's giant ass.

Army came with a soft groan, shuddering and spilling warm and wet over Sid’s ass. He went still, his breaths coming in hiccupping, humid gusts against Sid’s shoulder for a long moment. Sid wondered if Army could feel his heart thudding through his back. If he could hear the sick, anxious drum of it. But he only sighed and patted Sid on the hip affectionately. “Night, babe,” he mumbled as he rolled over.

army feels a little bit of shame in this moment too—what was he doing? he couldn't explain it to himself, and he definitely didn't want to have to explain it to sid. so he just keeps playing the hand he originally dealt. he rolls over and pretends to be asleep, listening to sid's wet, shuddering breaths and then the mind melting sound of him furtively jerking off.

because the kid had gotten off on what army had done to him so much, coming once wasn't enough. jesus.

army's plan the next day is to just pretend it never happened. let sid think he was blackout drunk, and if sid brought it up it would be a funny joke for them to both laugh at—ha ha, army got so drunk he thought sid was his girlfriend. totally normal. everything would be fine.

but he couldn't stop thinking about it. sid's pink, sweaty body pressed up against his, the way sid's dick had felt in his hand—familiar and foreign all at once, how hot his breathy little moans had been. jesus. he couldn't stop looking at sid's ass and his dick in those stupid leggings, and christ—his mouth.

and sid had let army do that to him. he'd been stone cold sober, and he hadn't even tried to stop army. so that meant he wanted it, right?

so army reasons with himself: the kid couldn't go out and pick up—for sure not guys, but probably not even girls without it being some overblown story. army could help him out. that wouldn't be weird. this could just be a thing they did. a thing army did for sid. to help him. he'd let sid call the shots, even. it would be totally above board.

so he goes to the vending machine and gets a red gatorade, and leaves it out for sid to find. if sid wants it again, he'll know what to do. and neither of them will even have to talk about it.