Cinnamon Toast Crunch (Hockey RPF, Brad Marchand)

[favrielle]

Hello again!  I'm back with another hockey sickfic. I've become mildly obsessed with Brad Marchand, and so I've written another ficlet about him. There is some very mild m/m romance here, but not a lot. If you don't know them, basically Patrice is the captain, and Brad is the on-ice pest. 😈

My tumblr is hockeynoses. Come follow me if you want!

~*~

“Cereal, really?” Patrice asks, glancing at the bowl in Brad’s hands as he shuffles back over to the couch. “I offered to make you soup earlier…that would probably feel better on your throat.”

Brad sniffs. “I dnow, but this just sounds better right dow.” His large nose, already noticeable, is made more so by the fact that it’s pink along the tip and the nostrils, having been rubbed raw by tissues all day. Brad sits down on the couch, setting his bowl on the coffee table. Today has been a really sneezy day and he’s seemingly unable to even go for a couple minutes without sneezing. Patrice watches as Brad grabs the box of tissues off the coffee table and sets it back by his side on the couch, pulling out a couple fresh tissues as he does so. He stares into the middle-distance as his eyes glaze over, waiting. His breath hitches a bit. “Haa-…oh combe ond…” his eyebrows draw together in frustration, his hands steepling the tissues over his nose. “ha…haESSHHHuh!” He leans forward with the force of it, waiting to see if more will come. “I – heh….AETSCHHH! Ugh. Oh by god.” A tired groan, followed by a long blow. After, he tosses the tissues aside and grabs his cereal.

“So…” Patrice ventures, “What kind of cereal did you go for?”

“Ciddamond Toast Crundch,” Brad garbles out through his first bite. Patrice thinks the congestion makes him sound adorable.

“An old favorite?” Brad nods and takes another bite. “Isn’t that what you ate out of the cup for your cup day?”

“MmHmm.” Brad sniffs again in a futile attempt to clear some of the congestion from his sinuses. “Whend I was little, I used to sidt on the couch and watch Saturday morning cartoonds and eat it, and dream aboutd widding the Standley Cup.” He pauses a beat, remembering. “And I promised byself thad if I ever gotd the cup, I’d eatd cereal out of it and watch my Saturday borning cartoons.”

He tips his bowl and drinks the last of the milk from it. When he finishes and turns to Patrice, he notices the other man looking at him with a soft expression. Patrice smiles at him. “I bet you were so cute.”

“Ha,” Brad smirks, “I was a debon.” He leans back on the couch, settling in. Patrice scooches closer and reaches out to run a hand up Brad’s shoulder to the back of his neck, stopping to gently massage the tense muscles there as best he can.

“Mmm. Thatd feels abazing.” Brad says, his stuffy nose forcing him to breathe through his mouth. They sit in silence for a moment, broken only when Brad’s nose starts to twitch. He rubs the tip of it with the back of his hand, furiously trying to quell the itch. “Shi-ihh-it…Bergy-“  Patrice pulls his hand away and sits back a bit. Brad opens his eyes and grabs for the tissue box, managing to get one out and covering his face just in time. “Ha-RSSSHHH! Itt-CHHOO! Uhh..heh-TSSSHH! Ughhh…” He holds the abused tissue under his nose for a moment, waiting to see if more are on their way. When it seems like he has the all-clear, he tosses it aside and grabs a new one to blow his nose, now an even more impressive shade of red. “Fucgk. I’b so over this.”

Patrice gives him a pitying look and a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll get the decongestants; see if that will help.” Brad watches him stand, eyes peeking out over another tissue.

“Thagg youuu-aaahhAETSCHHHH!” He falls back on the couch again, defeated. When he goes to pull another tissue from the box, his hand turns up empty. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles, “Patrice! Cand you – haaESSSHHH! TSSHHH! ehh-ittSHHH!  Fugk! Cand you brigg be adoth-hahETCCCH! Adother box of tissues?! haRRSSSHHH!”

[starpollen]

Lovely

[favrielle]

23 hours ago, starpollen said:

Lovely

Thank youuuu! 🥰 I'm glad you enjoyed!