Beware of Flying Bats and Balls
Title: Beware of Flying Bats and Balls
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: PG-13 (will rise)
Category: Angst, Humor
Warning: Slash, Adult Language
Pairing: David/Sebastien
Summary: Summer spent at the ball park.
Disclaimer:
Sebastien and David are not mine. The rest of the people are unless otherwise noted.
A/n: I'm really liking this story. Hoping I don't lose interest. Probably won't but, you know. Things happen.
Enjoy!
-
BOFBAB :: 02
When I made my way down the stairs and turned the corner, I saw that my mom was busying herself around the kitchen, still in her robe and slippers. It's got to be around quarter to ten in the morning, it's summer, and she's still hanging over a stove. If I wasn't sure that she thoroughly enjoyed it, I'd be at her every beckon during her time in here.
I walked over to the table where a tray of toast sat and took a piece onto my own plate. "Another long morning in the kitchen, Mom?" I asked and began to butter the piece of toast.
"Yes, Sebastien," she replied, walking over and putting the carton of orange juice in front of my glass, "another morning spent in the kitchen, waiting for you to finally come down and eat so that I can start cleaning it up."
She waited patiently for my response, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow as I looked at her with an appearance implying that I was going to speak once I'd finished chewing my toast. I swallowed and grinned at her, "And I appreciate that very much but you know that you don't have to. I tell you this every day."
"Speaking of every day," she turned around to begin filling the dishwasher, "are you going to the park again?"
I nodded my head as I took a drink from the carton of juice while her back was turned, knowing that she couldn't see me. "Yeah, I was going to head to David's after I ate." She's right, we spent each day at the park but it's not like she could easily come up with a place we'd enjoy going to more.
"Always with David," she sighed. "Sebastien, I adore that boy but I'd at least feel happy if you took even one other person along."
I finished my piece of toast and picked up my plate, bringing it over to the sink. "Who else would I go with?" I started rinsing off the plate and took a dishtowel off of the rack to dry it.
She closed the cupboard and walked over to the table to get the tray of toast. "I don't know; I'm sure that you could easily persuade someone into going with you. Next time you see an attractive boy why not tell him that you can get into the stadium without a ticket, I'm sure that would interest him."
Yeah, so, my mom is aware of my thing for boys. After I told her a year ago she's had plenty of time to adjust to the idea and is pretty much fine with it. I think her only concern is more that I don't die alone; whether I'm with a man or a woman doesn't concern her so much. My dad was okay with it too... after he talked to my mom, drove around for two hours and sat in his study for an entire evening. Most other people were fine with it, a few assholes here and there but they didn't phase me so much; I just don't bring it out and tell people unless I feel the need to.
"Thanks, Mom," I said and rolled my eyes once she'd turned away from me. "The next time I get the urge to hook up with a random guy, I'll remember to tell him that. Until then, my ball park buddy is David, okay?"
She sighed and put away my plate while I walked into the hall to get my shoes. "You're heading over there now?" She asked as she walked into the hall with me. "Is hanging out and Bank Park all you're ever going to do?"
"Well, it's summer," I mused and started to tie my shoelace, "I have no more school... ever." She shook her head as I stood up, "I think that is all we'll be doing, yeah."
"How many home games do the Phillies have?"
"I grinned and kissed her cheek. Eighty-one."
She covered her face with her hand. "Eighty-one days you're not going to be home, at least they have away games too or I might never see you."
"Don't count on it," I hugged her; "we go to the stadium even on away days." I started to walk for the door and we said goodbye as I went down the front steps.
The walk from my house to David's isn't very long. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes on a good day; less time if you run or are in a hurry. He and his mom moved into his house a few years ago after his parents split up; his dad stayed in the city and when his mom got custody of him, they moved out here. David doesn't see his dad much but he could if he wanted since his mom isn't so hateful about him, there were just reasons going on and, as David said he was told, they mutually agreed he'd be staying with his mom. She's nice, I guess, but, I'll say that she hasn't got the best taste when it comes to men. David always said that he liked his dad so I don't know why they ever split, I guess they just had those differences.
My opinion still stands though, she doesn't have great taste with men. Maybe David's dad was a good guy and she just didn't agree with that, or he was actually an ass and David is just remembering incorrectly, but no matter what, I've met her boyfriend of the past three-and-a-half years and he's not very ideal. He drinks, I can tell because there's always at least one empty beer can in practically every room of the house when I go over, and he smokes a lot too, this is hinted by the ashtrays throughout the house. I've known David's mom for a long time and, yeah, it's not her that's got these things everywhere.
David makes due, though. He says that when his mom's boyfriend, John, is in the house, he just stays in his room unless he has to and it all works out. John never seemed to be too fond of David but whenever I was over and I saw him with David's mom, he always did seem to like her so I suppose they were just willing to accept each other for her sake. Whatever she sees in him, I still can't match it, though, not matter how hard I try.
Speak of the Devil. I walked down the sidewalk to David's house and saw John kneeling over their pathway to the front door. He had a wheelbarrow next to him and it was filled with large stones he was using to line dirt the pathway. Not a bad idea, really. I assume it was David's mother's. He wiped his forehead and looked up when he saw my shadow cover his working space.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets as he looked at me sternly but neither of us spoke. I didn't say anything because, well, okay, I admit it, he was scary. He was a grown man about twice my size, built, sweaty and tan and kneeling down in front of me with the sun in his eyes. And he was holding a rock. A large rock. Granted, I didn't and don't think he ever would intend to hit me with the rock but the fact that I appeared to be standing in his working area and blocking his sunlight got me to thinking that he might want to so I cleared my throat quickly and continued my walk up to the house.
Awkwardly, I raised my hand and tapped on the door. I did this in an awkward fashion for a few reasons. One being the fact that my back was turned to the large man with the supply of rocks and the other being that fact that... did I or did I not just see the man who lives in this house? It's kind of a different situation considering I saw him and I want to go into his house, but we didn't speak and I haven't been invited in quite yet; would it be wrong to just walk in? The polite voice in the back of my head told me it would be the bad idea so I stayed on the step, quietly knocking and praying that someone would open the door soon.
I heard footsteps, and David answered the door quickly. I don't think I'd ever been more happy to see him. He looked me up and down, probably able to sense my nervous demeanor and nodded his head, taking a step out the door and pulling it shut behind him. We walked down the path and just as I'd gotten to the sidewalk...
"Where're you boys off to?"
I spun around at hearing John's voice. Something about him today just got me on edge. He stood up and scratched his left side, keeping his arm draped over his abdomen and tapping on the spot. He cleared his throat and I blinked, realizing that David hadn't answered him.
"We- we're going to Citizen's Bank Park," I blurted out. I didn't want to have to stay there longer than we had to. I took a hold of David's wrist and pulled him along the sidewalk, he snapped out of whatever caught his voice and looked over at me.
"Sorry about that," he apologized, "I wasn't all there."
I shook my head, "You have the worst attention span, I swear, David."
+++
David swung his feet around the air as he held onto a beam over top of the bar in one of the stadium suites. After roaming the Hall of Fame for a bit, we scanned the suite rooms in search f one that wasn't in use. When we saw that the second suite on the third base line wasn't being used, David and I set to work on getting the key to it from the usher's office. It wasn't that hard, really; all we had to do was walk in and while one made small talk, the other found the key. The ushers never minded anyway if the suite actually wasn't supposed to be used that day.
I threw a French fry at him and he laughed, his neck bending and his tongue sticking out as if he were going to catch it in his mouth. I threw another, this one landing on his shoulder and I bit my lip when he stuck his tongue out to lap it into his mouth, his hands still supporting him on the beam.
"One more," he laughed and clicked his heels together. "Aim well and I can get it." He opened his mouth, his tongue hanging out limply and his expression was one that I could tell he was using to get me to laugh.
It worked and I did laugh just as the big liberty bell rang. "Home run for the Phillies," I said casually and aimed a French fry at him. He bent forward and caught the fry on the end of his tongue. Almost losing his balance, he readjusted his grip on the beam and I saw his shirt rise up, revealing the bluish tint of his left side.
"David, what the fuck!" I said and stood up, walking over to where he hung and I lifted his shirt up, showing off a rather large bruise that stretched from along his left side to the front side of his abs.
"What?" He dropped down from where he was and lifted his shirt enough so that I could see the bruise. "Oh, that."
I looked at him oddly, "Yeah, that. Where the hell did you get that? It's... wow, really nasty."
He brushed his finger over the mark lightly and shrugged. "Don't you remember yesterday when I glided down the railing to the stairs on my board and fell?"
"Shit, and it bruised this badly?" I lifted my hand and hovered my fingers over the bruise. Okay, so, I didn't want to hurt him but at the same time I wanted to feel it. That's normal though, you get a bruise on your leg and you spend ten minutes staring at it, prodding to see where it hurt and just how much pain it gave off. The fact that I couldn't do that because it wasn't my bruise and David's did remain clear to me, so, I stuck to simply hovering my fingers near it.
"I guess so," he said quietly and put his shirt back down. He walked over and picked up a fry, looking out the window to see the game. "It doesn't hurt, though- "
"How does that not hurt?" I interrupted him. It really is beyond me how he isn't doubled over with pain even now - or how he could ever manage to hang from a beam with that kind of a contusion on his side.
He shrugged, "Don't you remember when those representatives for the Marines would come into school? One time I got selected for some random meeting with them and they taught me how to block out pain... it was really cool, actually, you're supposed to focus on- "
"Right, David," I patted his back and shook my head. "No need for the full details, I didn't like those Marine guys much, they scared me a little."
David laughed and shook his head, leaning against the railing that stood in front of the glass window as he watched the game. "You scare easily."
That line got me thinking a little. I do scare easily. Like the Marines at the school, it just kind of freaked me out to see them there; why would guys in uniforms be at our school recruiting for the Armed Forces? And like John, he scared the shit out of me for some odd and unknown reason. So did David's bruise. When I saw what it was, it scared me that he'd be hurt. I probably would have reacted that way to seeing anyone with that kind of a blemish on their side; it was rather large and, man, it really did look like it'd hurt. I suppose those Marines were good for David though, if he can still hang from the ceiling then I guess the trick to block out pain worked well.
I sighed, "Well, I'm allowed to scare easily because I have you to protect me." The end of my voice was made to sound cutesy and I slung an arm over his shoulder, raising my other hand to pinch his cheek. David shrugged me off and we both turned back to watching the game when the bell rang again.
"Another home run for us," David smiled.
-
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: PG-13 (will rise)
Category: Angst, Humor
Warning: Slash, Adult Language
Pairing: David/Sebastien
Summary: Summer spent at the ball park.
Disclaimer:
Sebastien and David are not mine. The rest of the people are unless otherwise noted.
A/n: I'm really liking this story. Hoping I don't lose interest. Probably won't but, you know. Things happen.
Enjoy!
-
BOFBAB :: 02
When I made my way down the stairs and turned the corner, I saw that my mom was busying herself around the kitchen, still in her robe and slippers. It's got to be around quarter to ten in the morning, it's summer, and she's still hanging over a stove. If I wasn't sure that she thoroughly enjoyed it, I'd be at her every beckon during her time in here.
I walked over to the table where a tray of toast sat and took a piece onto my own plate. "Another long morning in the kitchen, Mom?" I asked and began to butter the piece of toast.
"Yes, Sebastien," she replied, walking over and putting the carton of orange juice in front of my glass, "another morning spent in the kitchen, waiting for you to finally come down and eat so that I can start cleaning it up."
She waited patiently for my response, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow as I looked at her with an appearance implying that I was going to speak once I'd finished chewing my toast. I swallowed and grinned at her, "And I appreciate that very much but you know that you don't have to. I tell you this every day."
"Speaking of every day," she turned around to begin filling the dishwasher, "are you going to the park again?"
I nodded my head as I took a drink from the carton of juice while her back was turned, knowing that she couldn't see me. "Yeah, I was going to head to David's after I ate." She's right, we spent each day at the park but it's not like she could easily come up with a place we'd enjoy going to more.
"Always with David," she sighed. "Sebastien, I adore that boy but I'd at least feel happy if you took even one other person along."
I finished my piece of toast and picked up my plate, bringing it over to the sink. "Who else would I go with?" I started rinsing off the plate and took a dishtowel off of the rack to dry it.
She closed the cupboard and walked over to the table to get the tray of toast. "I don't know; I'm sure that you could easily persuade someone into going with you. Next time you see an attractive boy why not tell him that you can get into the stadium without a ticket, I'm sure that would interest him."
Yeah, so, my mom is aware of my thing for boys. After I told her a year ago she's had plenty of time to adjust to the idea and is pretty much fine with it. I think her only concern is more that I don't die alone; whether I'm with a man or a woman doesn't concern her so much. My dad was okay with it too... after he talked to my mom, drove around for two hours and sat in his study for an entire evening. Most other people were fine with it, a few assholes here and there but they didn't phase me so much; I just don't bring it out and tell people unless I feel the need to.
"Thanks, Mom," I said and rolled my eyes once she'd turned away from me. "The next time I get the urge to hook up with a random guy, I'll remember to tell him that. Until then, my ball park buddy is David, okay?"
She sighed and put away my plate while I walked into the hall to get my shoes. "You're heading over there now?" She asked as she walked into the hall with me. "Is hanging out and Bank Park all you're ever going to do?"
"Well, it's summer," I mused and started to tie my shoelace, "I have no more school... ever." She shook her head as I stood up, "I think that is all we'll be doing, yeah."
"How many home games do the Phillies have?"
"I grinned and kissed her cheek. Eighty-one."
She covered her face with her hand. "Eighty-one days you're not going to be home, at least they have away games too or I might never see you."
"Don't count on it," I hugged her; "we go to the stadium even on away days." I started to walk for the door and we said goodbye as I went down the front steps.
The walk from my house to David's isn't very long. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes on a good day; less time if you run or are in a hurry. He and his mom moved into his house a few years ago after his parents split up; his dad stayed in the city and when his mom got custody of him, they moved out here. David doesn't see his dad much but he could if he wanted since his mom isn't so hateful about him, there were just reasons going on and, as David said he was told, they mutually agreed he'd be staying with his mom. She's nice, I guess, but, I'll say that she hasn't got the best taste when it comes to men. David always said that he liked his dad so I don't know why they ever split, I guess they just had those differences.
My opinion still stands though, she doesn't have great taste with men. Maybe David's dad was a good guy and she just didn't agree with that, or he was actually an ass and David is just remembering incorrectly, but no matter what, I've met her boyfriend of the past three-and-a-half years and he's not very ideal. He drinks, I can tell because there's always at least one empty beer can in practically every room of the house when I go over, and he smokes a lot too, this is hinted by the ashtrays throughout the house. I've known David's mom for a long time and, yeah, it's not her that's got these things everywhere.
David makes due, though. He says that when his mom's boyfriend, John, is in the house, he just stays in his room unless he has to and it all works out. John never seemed to be too fond of David but whenever I was over and I saw him with David's mom, he always did seem to like her so I suppose they were just willing to accept each other for her sake. Whatever she sees in him, I still can't match it, though, not matter how hard I try.
Speak of the Devil. I walked down the sidewalk to David's house and saw John kneeling over their pathway to the front door. He had a wheelbarrow next to him and it was filled with large stones he was using to line dirt the pathway. Not a bad idea, really. I assume it was David's mother's. He wiped his forehead and looked up when he saw my shadow cover his working space.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets as he looked at me sternly but neither of us spoke. I didn't say anything because, well, okay, I admit it, he was scary. He was a grown man about twice my size, built, sweaty and tan and kneeling down in front of me with the sun in his eyes. And he was holding a rock. A large rock. Granted, I didn't and don't think he ever would intend to hit me with the rock but the fact that I appeared to be standing in his working area and blocking his sunlight got me to thinking that he might want to so I cleared my throat quickly and continued my walk up to the house.
Awkwardly, I raised my hand and tapped on the door. I did this in an awkward fashion for a few reasons. One being the fact that my back was turned to the large man with the supply of rocks and the other being that fact that... did I or did I not just see the man who lives in this house? It's kind of a different situation considering I saw him and I want to go into his house, but we didn't speak and I haven't been invited in quite yet; would it be wrong to just walk in? The polite voice in the back of my head told me it would be the bad idea so I stayed on the step, quietly knocking and praying that someone would open the door soon.
I heard footsteps, and David answered the door quickly. I don't think I'd ever been more happy to see him. He looked me up and down, probably able to sense my nervous demeanor and nodded his head, taking a step out the door and pulling it shut behind him. We walked down the path and just as I'd gotten to the sidewalk...
"Where're you boys off to?"
I spun around at hearing John's voice. Something about him today just got me on edge. He stood up and scratched his left side, keeping his arm draped over his abdomen and tapping on the spot. He cleared his throat and I blinked, realizing that David hadn't answered him.
"We- we're going to Citizen's Bank Park," I blurted out. I didn't want to have to stay there longer than we had to. I took a hold of David's wrist and pulled him along the sidewalk, he snapped out of whatever caught his voice and looked over at me.
"Sorry about that," he apologized, "I wasn't all there."
I shook my head, "You have the worst attention span, I swear, David."
+++
David swung his feet around the air as he held onto a beam over top of the bar in one of the stadium suites. After roaming the Hall of Fame for a bit, we scanned the suite rooms in search f one that wasn't in use. When we saw that the second suite on the third base line wasn't being used, David and I set to work on getting the key to it from the usher's office. It wasn't that hard, really; all we had to do was walk in and while one made small talk, the other found the key. The ushers never minded anyway if the suite actually wasn't supposed to be used that day.
I threw a French fry at him and he laughed, his neck bending and his tongue sticking out as if he were going to catch it in his mouth. I threw another, this one landing on his shoulder and I bit my lip when he stuck his tongue out to lap it into his mouth, his hands still supporting him on the beam.
"One more," he laughed and clicked his heels together. "Aim well and I can get it." He opened his mouth, his tongue hanging out limply and his expression was one that I could tell he was using to get me to laugh.
It worked and I did laugh just as the big liberty bell rang. "Home run for the Phillies," I said casually and aimed a French fry at him. He bent forward and caught the fry on the end of his tongue. Almost losing his balance, he readjusted his grip on the beam and I saw his shirt rise up, revealing the bluish tint of his left side.
"David, what the fuck!" I said and stood up, walking over to where he hung and I lifted his shirt up, showing off a rather large bruise that stretched from along his left side to the front side of his abs.
"What?" He dropped down from where he was and lifted his shirt enough so that I could see the bruise. "Oh, that."
I looked at him oddly, "Yeah, that. Where the hell did you get that? It's... wow, really nasty."
He brushed his finger over the mark lightly and shrugged. "Don't you remember yesterday when I glided down the railing to the stairs on my board and fell?"
"Shit, and it bruised this badly?" I lifted my hand and hovered my fingers over the bruise. Okay, so, I didn't want to hurt him but at the same time I wanted to feel it. That's normal though, you get a bruise on your leg and you spend ten minutes staring at it, prodding to see where it hurt and just how much pain it gave off. The fact that I couldn't do that because it wasn't my bruise and David's did remain clear to me, so, I stuck to simply hovering my fingers near it.
"I guess so," he said quietly and put his shirt back down. He walked over and picked up a fry, looking out the window to see the game. "It doesn't hurt, though- "
"How does that not hurt?" I interrupted him. It really is beyond me how he isn't doubled over with pain even now - or how he could ever manage to hang from a beam with that kind of a contusion on his side.
He shrugged, "Don't you remember when those representatives for the Marines would come into school? One time I got selected for some random meeting with them and they taught me how to block out pain... it was really cool, actually, you're supposed to focus on- "
"Right, David," I patted his back and shook my head. "No need for the full details, I didn't like those Marine guys much, they scared me a little."
David laughed and shook his head, leaning against the railing that stood in front of the glass window as he watched the game. "You scare easily."
That line got me thinking a little. I do scare easily. Like the Marines at the school, it just kind of freaked me out to see them there; why would guys in uniforms be at our school recruiting for the Armed Forces? And like John, he scared the shit out of me for some odd and unknown reason. So did David's bruise. When I saw what it was, it scared me that he'd be hurt. I probably would have reacted that way to seeing anyone with that kind of a blemish on their side; it was rather large and, man, it really did look like it'd hurt. I suppose those Marines were good for David though, if he can still hang from the ceiling then I guess the trick to block out pain worked well.
I sighed, "Well, I'm allowed to scare easily because I have you to protect me." The end of my voice was made to sound cutesy and I slung an arm over his shoulder, raising my other hand to pinch his cheek. David shrugged me off and we both turned back to watching the game when the bell rang again.
"Another home run for us," David smiled.
-