danny b secretly importing claude to philly to hold scandalous clandestine seduction/direct contract talks, rents out a suite with a view of the rink and the philly skyline to look over as they toast champagne only instead for it to sit empty because he picks claude up from the airport and claude throws his ginger head back and laughs and says take me home. marathon fucking interspersed with danny running around going to meetings and making calls. comes home to claude cooking dinner in the kitchen like no time has passed, like they're going to need to set the table for five and sit down to eat with the boys
danny unveils the dagger he has for verbeek and claude goes molten with lust like oh you bastard, come celebrate your genius, and danny climbs on top of him, on top of the world, fucking over verbeek and the even more sweeter dessert of fucking claude
danny has been so patient planning it out for so long and it's finally the end game. ducks will match on day 7, drysdale and zegras get signed to the prearranged contracts the same day, by then danny and claude will have stopped fucking long enough to decide on a final number for claude and they can announce everything that friday and danny will take claude out on the town for the weekend in order to celebrate, no need to hide his presence in philly any longer
only for him to come home one day to a dark and quiet house. no smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen with claude in an apron, just claude sitting with two tumblers of whiskey at the table and terrible news: ottawa is being more aggressive than expected. they have a final offer and an immediate deadline. claude names a number and danny's heart sinks: it's more than the flyers should match.
not more than danny can match. if he decided he wanted to stop being patient, if he decided this was the one thing where he didn't want to make the smart choice, if he threw away a piece of the flyers future on selfish sentimentality, he could get it signed tonight and bring claude home. it would risk everything, with carlsson, spit in the faces of zegras and drysdale, but still. he could do it.
but he isn't that man, and it wouldn't be worth it to claude to come home if he were. claude smiles a wry, mournful smile. they fuck, desperately, throughout the whole night, until the wee hours of the morning, barely moving with the effort to stretch out the moment and make it last that little bit longer.
"a one year deal." claude says, in the aftermath, and danny doesn't reply. one year is a long time. if he could be certain, he'd promise he'd come for claude next year, but he can't, so he won't.
"it was good to have you home" he says instead, and kisses claude. "would have been nice to get a chance to introduce you to the new kids." he had been anticipating it so vividly, the unveiling tippett and barkey, look at what we got for you, and look at how we got you back anyway
"maybe you'll need some help at the deadline" claude jokes, even though they both know he'd far rather the sens be headed to the playoffs. danny will smuggle claude behind tinted windows in the dark hours of the morning to the airport. he'll sit in the empty departures lane for too long, resting his head on the wheel. such well laid plans, such patience, and for what. and then he'll fold himself up, and get back to work.
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