It starts small. They're rooming together, so of course Cam knows all of Eric's habits: he gets out of the shower, then tries to find a shirt and tie that go together without dropping his towel. It's easy for Cam to just pick them out for him while the water is still running.
The first time he does it, he's rewarded with one of Eric's brilliant smiles and a "Thanks, bud," and just like that, he's addicted.
Cam starts making a habit of doing these little things that make Eric's life run smoothly. Setting out his game night clothes, keeping the mini-fridge stocked with water bottles, reminding him when his car needs an oil change... it's not like it takes much effort, and it makes Eric happy. A happy captain makes a happy team, and that's what Cam wants.
The way Eric smiling at him makes Cam feel -- that's entirely separate. Cam is perfectly capable of keeping that on lockdown and only bringing it out for jerking off in the shower. The real Eric Staal, captain of the Hurricanes, has almost nothing to do with the Eric Staal who Cam wants coming undone in his bed.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
The lockout is a pain in the ass. They practice, so it's not like he's completely hockey-deprived, but it's not the same at all, and Cam finds himself being irritable -- well, more so than usual -- with the guys.
It's not until he wakes up from a dream about a road trip with a tight feeling in his chest that he realizes what he's missing. Then he just feels like an idiot. Who misses picking out their captain's clothes? That's just sad. But it's true, which means Cam has to deal with it.
Cam stares at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head. Okay, so he misses doing stuff for Eric. There's probably other stuff he can do, even if they aren't on the road, right? He imagines bringing Eric slippers and a pipe and the newspaper, and snorts. Sure, and maybe he'll wear high heels and pearls, too.
Except the idea doesn't go away that easily. It plays out in Cam's head like a little movie: Cam gets down on his knees, takes off Eric's shoes one at a time, slides the slippers onto his feet, then leans in and mouths at Eric's dick right through his pants --
Whoa. That's -- kind of incredibly hot. Cam is getting hard in his boxers just thinking about it. He reaches down and palms it. Where was he?
-- mouthing at Eric's dick until Eric groans and says, "Cam, please," then helping him with his fly and sucking his dick, taking his time about it. He makes it last as long as he can, ignoring his own erection to focus on Eric --
Cam groans then, surprising himself. He's way more into this fantasy than he expected. Apparently he has a thing for waiting, too.
Eric comes in Cam's mouth, and he swallows it down, stroking Eric's dick and mouthing at it gently until the last aftershocks of the orgasm are gone. Then Eric says, "I want to see you come, too," and Cam leans back on the floor and jerks himself off. It takes barely any time at all, but long enough for Eric to pat Cam's hair and tell him, "You're doing such a good job."
"Oh, Jesus," Cam says, and comes in his shorts.
Cam refuses to let the next day's practice be awkward, but at the same time, he's determined to do something for Eric. Something non-sexual, because that's how their relationship works outside of his brain.
He helps the young guys clean up the pucks at the end, unable to think of anything else. "You don't have to do that, Wardo," Eric says.
Cam shrugs. "Felt like helping out," he says.
"Well, thanks." Eric punches him on the arm.
It goes straight to Cam's dick. God, he's fucked. He wills himself not to get hard and hits the shower.
"Hey," Eric says, once Cam has pants on again. "You want to go get lunch?"
"Sure," Cam says.
"Awesome." Eric grins, and Cam wants to punch something, anything, to get himself back to normal. This is just lunch with the real Eric, not something out of his weird new fantasy life.
He lets Eric pick the restaurant, a decent place that does great chicken, and everything is very normal. They chirp each other and talk about the team's progress, the lockout, how Semin will fit in if they get a real season -- all kinds of things. Every time Eric's water glass gets low, Cam signals the waiter for more.
"This was fun," Eric says. "We should do it again."
"Sure," Cam says. "I'd like that."
On his way home, Cam builds himself a fantasy of serving Eric a meal -- doing everything for him but feeding him, even cutting the meat into perfectly bite-sized pieces and dabbing at his lips with a napkin between mouthfuls. When Eric's done eating, he pulls Cam into his lap and kisses him until they're both dizzy. It's a good one.
They end up making a habit of eating together after practice. Sometimes they go out; sometimes it's at Eric's, usually sandwiches; sometimes Cam shows off and grills. Cam's pretty happy with it.
And then, one day, Eric says, "It's like we're dating!"
Cam just stares at him across the kitchen island.
"I mean -- except for the sex part. But we do stuff together -- uh -- it's been a while," Eric says, floundering.
"Miss getting your dick wet, Staal?" Cam asks. It comes out a little more threatening than he means it to, but Eric seems unruffled.
"Well, yeah," he says. "Who doesn't?"
Like he's in a dream, Cam gets up and walks around the island. Eric is leaning against it in sweatpants, and Cam puts a hand on one of his skinny hips. "I can help," he says, even though it's probably the worst idea he's ever had.
Eric gulps. "What?"
Cam tugs at the waistband of his sweats. "With getting your dick wet," he says. "I can help with that."
"Are you serious?" Eric asks. He reaches down and turns Cam's face up to his.
"Only if you want me to be," Cam says. Eric's huge hand feels amazing on the side of his face.
"I want you to be," Eric says.
"Good." Cam pulls Eric's pants down around his knees before he can lose his nerve. Eric's dick is already half-hard, and when Cam licks the length of the shaft, he can feel it getting harder under his tongue.
"Oh, God," Eric says. He strokes Cam's hair and rests his hand on the back of his neck. It feels so good.
Cam sucks him down, swirling his tongue over the head, hoping to draw more noises out of Eric. It works. Eric sounds desperate, and Cam is more than happy to give him what he needs. Much more than happy -- just like in his best fantasies, he's hard, and there's nothing he can do about it.
Eric barely manages to give him warning before he comes, but Cam is ready for him. He swallows most of it, but a little ends up on his face; he goes to wipe it off, but Eric says, "Wait," and pulls him up to lick it off and kiss him carefully. Cam goes easily, almost swaying into Eric.
"That was amazing," Eric says. "Do you want me to do you?"
"I'm good," Cam says. "You need a glass of water?"
"I have one," Eric says. "You don't want to get off? Really?"
Cam shrugs. "I can take care of myself. I just really wanted to blow you."
"God, that's hot," Eric says. "But what if I really want to jerk you off?"
"If you want," Cam says. He bites the inside of his cheek. Eric's hands.
"C'mon," Eric says, pulling up his pants, "I have a bed. I even just changed the sheets."
"Fancy," Cam says. He follows Eric to the bedroom, trying to memorize every detail of what just happened.
"Lie down," Eric says, so Cam does. Eric joins him, almost on top of him, and reaches into his track pants. "You're hard, you liar," he says.
"I didn't say I wasn't," Cam points out. "I said you didn't have to get me off."
Eric strokes him lazily. "What were you going to do, just go home and jerk off alone?"
"Probably," Cam says. He starts to move his hips, chasing the feeling of Eric's hand. "There a rule against that?"
"There should be," Eric says earnestly. "It's not right to leave somebody hanging." He changes up the rhythm a little, and Cam tries not to whimper at how good it feels. "Besides, this is fun."
"Then I won't -- stop you," Cam says.
"Good," Eric says, and leans in to kiss him.
"So that tongue of yours is good for something," Cam says, and kisses him again.
Eric laughs. "It's good for plenty of things," he says. "Want to see?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just moves down and mouths at Cam's balls and the base of his dick.
Cam sees stars. "Point taken," he says. "Move, I'm going to come."
Eric grabs a T-shirt from the floor just in time, and Cam comes hard, curling in on himself. When he relaxes again, Eric asks, "So, are we really dating now?"
"Seems like it," Cam says.
Their habits barely change after that, which Cam likes. Well, they do change a little. The next time they go out to lunch, it's kind of a weird time of day. The place is pretty empty, so it's easy to make sure Eric has everything he needs, and when they get into Eric's car to leave, the parking lot is deserted. Eric glances over at Cam and licks his lips.
Cam takes a deep breath, says, "Keep an eye out for cops," and undoes Eric's fly.
Eric yelps. "Cam!"
"Do you not want me to?" Cam asks, resting his hand on Eric's dick through his underwear.
"Oh my god. No, I do," Eric says.
"Good," Cam says. He fits himself into the space in front of his seat, glad he's so flexible, and goes to town. He's learning exactly what gets Eric going, so he can tailor his blow job technique to make it better for him. It's just icing on the cake that it means Eric comes before Cam's jaw gets sore.
Afterwards, driving Cam back to his car, Eric is all loose and happy, and Cam glows with pride. He made Eric look like that.
The next week, Cam grills in his backyard, burgers and a couple of skewers of vegetables. Eric's eyes practically roll back in his head when he tastes the food.
"This is amazing," he says. "God, Cam, how many world-class talents does a guy need?"
Cam looks at him sideways. "I have a couple more," he says. "You've only scratched the surface."
Eric nearly chokes on a bite of burger; Cam is right there with a paper napkin and Eric's glass of water. Wiping his mouth, Eric says, "I hope you mean sex. You do, right?"
"Very good," Cam says. "You're a regular Sherlock Holmes." He takes another bite of his own burger, which really is amazing, if he does say so himself.
"Do you like topping or bottoming better?" Eric asks, and Jesus, he's practically bouncing in his seat.
"Either," Cam says. "I'm easy." He bites his tongue before he can add for you to the end of that sentence.
"Cool," Eric says. "Me too. Today I could really go for your dick in my ass." He punctuates that with a wink.
"Aren't you supposed to wink when there's, like, a double entendre?" Cam asks. "I mean, unless that was a euphemism for wanting another burger."
Eric considers this. "I do want another burger," he admits. "But then I want you to fuck me."
"I think I can make that happen," Cam says.
Clean-up after the meal is easy, paper plates and napkins in the trash, leftovers in the fridge, and then Eric nudges Cam in the shoulder. Cam looks up at him -- God, he's tall -- and says, "Bedroom's upstairs."
Eric cups the back of his head for a second, like they're on the ice, then grins and says, "Let's go."
Cam leads the way, Eric following a step or two behind. When they reach Cam's bed, Eric pulls him into a kiss, a long, filthy one, and Cam gets his hands under Eric's shirt, pressing his palms against the skin.
"Let me -- get this off you," he says against Eric's mouth, and Eric lets him pull it off, only breaking the kiss to get it over his head. Then Cam undoes his fly and shoves his jeans down to his ankles.
"Mmm," Eric says, grinding on Cam in just his underwear. "You feel so good."
"Good," Cam says. "Want to lie down?"
"Sure," Eric says, and trips over his pants, landing on the foot of the bed in a heap. "Whoops!"
Cam laughs. "Sorry," he says. "Didn't think that one through."
"You think everything else through," Eric says, kicking off his jeans. "If you didn't mess one thing up, you wouldn't be human."
"Good point," Cam says. He gets the lube and a condom out of his sock drawer, opens them both, then kneels next to Eric. "Can I help you take these off?" he asks, running one finger under the waistband of Eric's boxer briefs.
"Sure," Eric says. He arches off the bed, and Cam takes them off slowly, taking the time to stroke the curve of Eric's ass, the muscles of his legs, the soft places behind his knees, as he goes. Eric makes soft, happy noises the whole time.
"Grab that pillow," Cam says, and when Eric does, "Lift your ass up again." He shoves the pillow under Eric, putting his gorgeous ass on display, then lubes up his hand and strokes around his hole, just gently.
"Oh," Eric says.
"Good 'oh' or bad 'oh'?" Cam asks, pulling back.
"Good 'oh'," Eric says. "Don't stop."
"Okay," Cam says. He turns his circle into a spiral, dipping inside at the center, until Eric starts pushing back against him. Then he goes a little deeper, and deeper than that.
"More, Cam, please," Eric begs, so Cam gives him more. After two fingers, he wipes his hand off and rolls the condom on.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Please," Eric says again, and Cam wants to give him the moon, not just his dick. He sinks into Eric and feels him clench around him. "Oh, God, Cam," Eric says.
Cam leans forward and kisses Eric's closed eyelids, then snaps his hips, driving into him. "Like that?" he asks.
"Just like that," Eric says, bucking up into his thrust. "Give it to me --" and Cam does.
When Eric comes, quivering all over, Cam keeps thrusting gently until Eric's done, then slips out of him and goes to get a washcloth. Over Eric's faint protests, he cleans him up, then folds the blankets back over him so he can nap.
He's planning to jerk off to this later, again and again, so he doesn't mind not coming. The point is, Eric got what he needed.
Even when the lockout finally ends, not much is different between them. Thanks to the new CBA, they aren't rooming together anymore, but they often get adjoining rooms, which means Cam can go back to taking care of him -- and they can have sex without anyone knowing who's in whose room.
He's going down on Eric when the news that Ellis has the flu comes out. "Better get stretching," Eric says, gently trying to push Cam's head away, but all Cam wants right now is to get Eric off -- he's not going anywhere. "Fine, fine," Eric says, and then he can't make words for a while, because Cam has developed some serious skills.
Later, when Cam is in the visitors' training room, getting his knee wrapped, he wonders if it was his own fault. Maybe he got too comfortable. Maybe he should have stretched instead of sucking dick. Maybe he's spent too much time on his knees.
No. He pushes those thoughts out of his head. It was an accident, not punishment from the universe. It could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to Ellis.
That night, Eric knocks on the door between their rooms, then comes in before Cam can say anything. "Hi," he says.
"Hi," Cam says. He feels sick to his stomach. He can't exactly kneel in front of Eric with a sprained MCL, but that's all he wants to do.
"This sucks," Eric says. He sits down on the bed next to Cam.
"No kidding," Cam says, toying with the edge of his brace. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Eric stares at him. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault either," Cam points out. "It's bad enough that I can't fucking play hockey. Now I can't even... you know. Be on my knees."
"There are other positions," Eric says. "I mean, it's hot, don't get me wrong, but..."
"Not for me," Cam says.
Eric's forehead creases. "What do you mean?"
Cam swallows around the lump in his throat. "It's more than hot for me. It's... important. Like doing stuff for you."
For a moment, Eric just looks blank; then Cam sees the light go on in his dark, dark eyes. "Oh," he says. "Like a fetish kind of thing?"
The lump dissolves. "Yeah," Cam says. "A fetish kind of thing. I just... need to do things for you."
"You still can," Eric says. "Like, what if I told you what I really wanted was to get a blowjob lying on my back? Or, I don't know, you could balance my checkbook!"
"Do you even write checks?" Cam asks, but he's starting to smile.
"I could start," Eric says. "But seriously, would that be good for you?"
"If it would be good for you," Cam says.
Eric presses their foreheads together. "You're good for me," he says.
Cam doesn't know what to say, so he kisses him, then says, "So, how about that blowjob?"
It takes a little while to get his knee comfortable, but once he does, Cam finds out that lying on the bed while he blows Eric really does work for him. He can use one arm for leverage and go as far down as he can, and use the other to keep Eric from bucking his hips too hard, and... it's just good.
Eric is stroking his hair gently, and Cam feels so good. When Eric comes down his throat, muttering, "Thank you, thank you," he feels even better.
When he's done breathing hard and clenching his fists, Eric says, "I want to see you come, too," and cups Cam's face in one hand.
"Okay," Cam says. He's hard and leaking already, so taking his dick in hand is a relief.
"No, come up here first," Eric demands.
"What, you want to cuddle?" Cam asks, but he scooches up into the circle of Eric's arm anyway.
"Yes," Eric says, and kisses his temple.
Cam squeezes his eyes shut against the tenderness of it. Eric wants him to jerk off, so he will; that's all.
"That's it," Eric says softly. "Come on, I want you to."
"Oh, God," Cam says, and he comes all over himself.
"You want me to help clean up?" Eric asks. He makes a move to get up, but Cam stops him.
"Let me," he says, and Eric does.