#sidjack

They'd spent the entire day skating their asses off, and then Sid's dad had taken them out for steak afterward, willing to shell out in a way he rarely was after getting to shake Gretzky's hand.

Sid and Jack had lobbied to share a hotel room, which his dad had been happy to accommodate. Sid had finished showering (and running a razor over his hairless chin), and was poking at the sunburn starting to develop on his shoulders when he heard a loud noise from the room.

"Don't fuck up my stuff," he calls out.

He expects to hear something back, like a muffled sorry or a really bad insult (Jack's never been great at chirping; he doesn't listen to older guys and pick up any good ones). It's just silent, though, and when Sid emerges, Jack is sheepishly sitting on the edge of his bed by the nightstand.

"What?" Sid asks warily.

"Nothing," Jack says, "just, did you see a pillow anywhere? It's kind of raggedy and, uh, blue."

Sid has vague memories of long bus rides at Shattuck, with Jack jamming an old pillow between his cheek and the window to try and nap. Sid frowns at him before glancing over at Jack's suitcase. It looks like a bomb went off inside it, throwing his things halfway across the room.

"I thought I packed it," Jack mutters.

"You need an extra? You can have one of mine," Sid offers, but Jack shakes his head.

Sid pokes around while Jack brushes his teeth and finds nothing. Jack puts on a brave face when Sid turns out the light.

Sid lasts maybe ten minutes before he turns it back on.

"Dude," he complains. "Stop shuffling around. It's loud."

"You're a heavy sleeper," Jack grumbles back, offended. "Get used to it."

"What's wrong with you?"

Jack's quiet for so long Sid almost turns the light back off.

"I really like that pillow, man," Jack mutters. "I haven't slept without it since I was seven."

Sid does turn the light off. Jack takes in a breath like he's about to launch into a complaint, but the words die in his throat when Sid climbs into his bed.

"Shut up," Sid tells him. He fits his back to Jack's, their spines lining up perfectly. It makes a coil of heat tense in Sid's gut. "Go to bed."

Jack swallows, loudly.