Jays2 (11/?)
Title: Jays2 (11/?)
Genre: J2 RPS, AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared although - Heh! You know major league teams have 25-man rosters, right?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, Baseball, Schmoop, Angst, Boy-Sexin’ (wait, what kind of warning is that?)
Word Count: ~ 5,000
Disclaimer: Fiction not fact. All these beautiful guys belong to themselves. Jensen and Jared belong to each other, we all know that :D Only the words are mine. No copyright infringement intended for the use of the MLB teams/players/logos, the Toronto Star, or Rogers Sportsnet. This is for fun, not profit.
A/N: Okay, I gave into a fandom cliché that has been done by authors way more talented than me. Still, I hope you like my take on it, because it fit so well into the plot, I couldn’t resist. Eek!
On another note, in case you're wondering, the next few chapters leading up to the end will be heavy on the J2, and you're all in for a few surprises. I can't wait to share them with you!
Enjoy! Comments = Love!
Summary: It becomes apparent to certain members of the team that Jared and Jensen may be two of the most oblivious people on the planet. So, Mike (well duh, of course it was Mike) decides to give them a little nudge (shove?) in the right direction. Interestingly enough, his devious machinations also have some unexpected side-effects.
( 1 ), ( 2 ), ( 3 ), ( 4 ), ( 5 ), ( 6 ), ( 7 ), ( 8 ), ( 9 ), ( 10 )
ELEVEN: YOU SPIN MY HEAD RIGHT ROUND WHEN YOU GO DOWN
Zach sighed as he looked down at his phone. Still no call, still no reply to his text, still no knock on his door. In other words, Chris was still avoiding him.
What did that mean? I had a great time in Atlanta, and then again in Tampa, and once more in Baltimore, but we’re back in Toronto now, and I don’t... what? I don’t date in Toronto? I don’t want to date you in Toronto? I don’t want to date you, period? Hit the road, Zach, and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more?
He fell back on his bed and imagined intricate patterns on the ceiling. Chris was in the room next door, for Pete’s sake. He could just walk over there and confront him, demand answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Had he read too much into their dates? Maybe he had thought they had had fun, but Chris had found them lacking? He groaned and had flashback to when he was in high school, agonizing over the boy he liked and whether or not that boy liked him back.
He hadn’t. And Zach seriously hoped that in this case, history would not repeat itself.
Although, there had been that one kiss. He put a lot of his stock of hope into that kiss, the one at the end of their third date, in the back of their cab as they went from restaurant back to the hotel. One sweet, scorching kiss that he had hoped they could repeat again and again.
But no. Nada. Zilch.
And Chris losing the last game of the series against the Angels just before the break hadn’t helped matters. Zach knew he always got gloomy after a loss, but this time, he had shut himself off completely. And silent and broody was not a good look on Chris. Well, all right, it was a good look on Chris, but Zach didn’t appreciate the sentiment behind it and the whole situation just sucked.
The sudden knock on his bedroom door surprised him so much that he catapulted off of bed, his heart hammering away inside his chest. He forced himself to calm down before opening it, deflating a little to see John on the other side, Cory standing just behind him.
“We’re going to Jensen and Jared’s to watch the Argos game. You in?”
He really wanted to ask them if they knew where Chris was, but he stifled the impulse. “Yeah, I’m in.”
|*|*|*|
Mike silently sipped from his beer bottle as he surveyed the living room in Jensen and Jared’s apartment. The guys who lived on their floor had all gathered there to watch the Toronto Argonauts, the CFL football team that the Jays shared the Rogers Centre with, play a home game. It had been a fun, relaxing day; the guys just chilling with each other for the most part, Chad providing most of the off-screen entertainment.
He really liked that the team could just kick back and unwind together like this; it wasn’t often that they had the chance to do it during the season, but the All-Star break afforded them that opportunity. And since they had a one more day-off before their next game, even he and Tom could relax from their trip to Kansas City.
He smiled when Tom walked into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of beer himself, slid onto the barstool next to him, his broad shoulders bumping affectionately against Mike.
“What are you thinking?” Tom asked quietly.
Mike smiled. “That I’m really lucky,” he said as he looked at Tom. “I have you, the team. The guys are great, you know? This is my second-best year in the majors.”
Tom looked taken aback, but he took the bait. “And the first?”
“The year I met you,” Mike grinned. “I was with the Mariners, you were with the Angels. It was a good year.”
“We hated each other’s guts!”
Mike shrugged. “Foreplay.”
Tom laughed, his gaze softening. “I know,” Tom told him, his smile wide and honest, “and after these past few months, I never want to be on a different team from you again. I think I’d rather retire.”
Mike studied him, surprised at the sincerity of his words. He didn’t say anything though, but he understood. Hell, he felt the same way. He let his knuckles brush softly against Tom’s forearm. Tom’s smile turned bashful, and he sighed a little, leaning into the feather-light touch. “I hope we keep this group of guys around for a few years. I know for sure I’d miss those two knuckleheads,” he nodded in the direction of the loveseat, where Jared was sprawled across the length of it, his mile-long legs hanging off one end, while his head rested against Jensen’s shoulder. As they watched, Jared turned to whisper something to Jensen, who leaned in to listen, and they smiled at each other, Jensen nodding as Jared scooted closer, Jensen’s hand latching onto Jared’s shoulder as he massaged away an apparent kink there.
“They are so comfortable with each other,” Tom remarked thoughtfully, still studying them, watching as they spoke softly to each other, as if they were the only two people in the room. “Do you think they realize?”
“That they’re practically in love with each other?”
“Yeah.”
“No. They redefine the word oblivious.” Mike looked at the other guys in the room; no one seemed to think Jensen and Jared’s interactions were anything out of the ordinary, and in fact, right from the get-go, no one ever had. It was easy to forget that these two had just met a few months ago, and now, it was hard to think of one without the other. “You think they need a little push in the right direction?”
Tom almost choked on his beer. “Mike! No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it won’t end well.”
“How do you know that?”
“Michael, none of your dastardly plots ever end well...”
“That is a goddamn lie.”
“Michael...,” Tom gave him an arch look.
“Have I ever told you that I love it when you get annoyed with me? It makes your eyes flash blue - like a blue flame, it’s hypnotic - and then you call me ‘Michael’. I love that.”
“Quit trying to distract me,” Tom furrowed his brow at him. “They’re straight. They don’t need a push. Let them come to their own decision.”
“They’re as straight as we are, Tommy.”
“And do you remember how difficult it was for us, Mike? How difficult it still is? We can joke and fool around but this sort of thing gets out and careers get ended. This isn’t the minors, where maybe you can hide it. It’s a tough choice, and it’s theirs to make.”
“I’m not suggesting we out them on Jays Central, Tommy; I’m just saying, let’s do a little experiment and see if they get a little less oblivious.”
Tom sighed heavily and Mike tried not to look triumphant. “What did you have in mind?”
“The way I see it, we look at this scientifically...”
“Scientifically?”
“Yes,” Mike nodded, getting enthused. “We have a hypothesis: those two are in love. Now, we need to prove it or disprove it.”
“Okay... How?”
“How do you know you’re falling in love, Tommy?” Mike turned to look at him, leaning closer now, whispering. “There’s the constant need to be together: check; to touch each other: check; you’re miserable apart: check - we all know what happened a few weeks ago with their rift; and when you’re together, you smile more, you laugh more, you’re happy and it shows: check, check and check.”
“You kiss more,” Tom reminded him huskily, his gaze dropping to Mike’s mouth, and heat flared in Mike’s stomach. “You want to kiss the other person all the time.”
“You do?”
“I do. Like right now.” The intensity in Tom’s eyes made Mike want to grab him and race across the hall to their own apartment so he could show Tom exactly what being in love was all about. It was tempting, but time enough for that a little later.
“Well, that’s where they need the push. We need to get them to kiss.”
“They kissed at their wedding,” Tom reminded him.
“That doesn’t quite count, plus it was too early in their relationship. It has to be now.”
“Well, we can’t get them prank-married again, how do you expect to pull this off?”
“I don’t know. Do we dare them? I think that would embarrass them and they’d mess it up. It has to be in a stress-free environment.”
“Good luck with that,” Tom scoffed, draining his bottle and thumped it down on the tiled countertop, where it over-balanced and landed on its side, spinning slightly. Mike watched the bottle with rapt fascination, and Tom, taking one look at his face, burst out laughing. “It’s perfect. Let’s do it.”
|*|*|*|
“Spin the Bottle?” Chad squawked at Mike. “You want to play ‘Spin the Bottle’?”
“What are we, in junior high?” Misha asked, amused.
“Dude, that’s like the best idea ever! I’m down,” Chad laughed, looking entirely too delighted at that prospect for a straight guy. Or mostly straight guy - Mike wasn’t too sure, and really? He never, ever wanted to contemplate the nature of Chad’s sex life.
The rest of the guys were a little harder to convince. “We’re bored, and it’s half-time. There’s nothing better on,” Mike wheedled.
“Survivor Man is on,” Jensen called out helpfully, and it distracted quite a few of the guys who had been staring at Mike is disbelief.
“It’s a repeat,” Tom interjected smoothly, grabbing the remote from Jared’s hand and turning the television off. “Let’s play.”
“Come on,” Mike cajoled. “It can’t be worse than that time last season where we all played strip poker.”
“Jesus!” David sputtered. “We agreed never to speak of that night again!” Mike laughed and the others who had been in attendance that fateful night laughed too.
“Dude, also - there are no girls here,” Hodge pointed out.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious, we’re playing the gays version... oops, I meant, the Jays version,” Tom smirked at him, and Mike really, really wanted to kiss him.
Mike smirked at Hodge instead. “Hodgie, we’ve got John, Jensen, Chris and Tom - all of whom are pretty, pretty princesses. And then we’ve got Jared and Kane and Carlson with their lustrous locks who could pass for girls if you squint at them just right.”
“Hil-fucking-larious, asswipe,” Kane grumped, belching loudly as if in testament to his manhood. “I’m not kissing dick.”
“There will be no dick-kissing,” Mike leered at him as he draped an arm over Kane’s shoulders. “Not unless you ask nicely.”
“Fuck you, Rosie.”
“No, definitely no fucking. I don’t want Tommy getting jealous no matter how hot you are for my bod, Kane.” Mike ducked out of the way of Kane’s reach with a laugh. “Come on, guys, it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, fun,” Chad grinned, showing all his sharp little pearly whites. “Plus, you never know where this might lead,” he mused out loud, with a shrewd but speaking look at Mike. Mike allowed his gaze to flicker surreptitiously in the direction of the loveseat where Jensen and Jared still sat. Chad got it immediately.”Asses in a circle on the floor, bitches,” he ordered, yanking Misha to his side and smooched his stubbly face. “Kiss me... beneath the milky twilight...”
“Oh God,” Misha muttered, casting his eyes heavenward as if seeking divine guidance.
“Lead me... out on the moonlit floor...” Chad sang, off-key and with abandon, “Lift your open hand, and let the fireflies... er... do something some-thing... and kiss me.”
“I can’t believe you knew most of the lyrics to that girly song.”
“Dude, it’s a classic. It was in that movie with the dorky chick who got made-over into a total hottie,” Chad sat down and pulled at Misha’s hand until he practically fell to the floor, somehow arranging himself cross-legged in a graceful move. The other guys reluctantly joined in forming a haphazard oval.
“I’m not drunk enough for this shit,” Carlson complained.
“I’m sitting but I’m not kissing any of you assholes,” David groused, guzzling his Corona.
“Well, then, David - we’ll just have to dare you to do something else instead. Something you might like even less,” Mike sweetly informed him.
“Bite me.”
“You didn’t use the magic word, so no.”
“Spin the damn bottle, Mikey,” Chad yelled.
Mike spun it, laughing uproariously when it came to stop pointing directly at David, who closed his eyes in consternation, but scrambled up on all fours anyway.
“Get over here, Rosie,” he growled as Mike grinned. Then he clasped his hand behind Mike’s head and proceeded to try to kiss the living daylights out of him. It would have worked, except Mike was still laughing and before long, David shoved him away, wiping his spit-slick mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at him. “Not s’posed to laugh, dickhead.”
“Prick,” Mike snarked affectionately. “Your turn.”
David spun and the bottle pointed at John. “The fucking universe is against me,” David muttered belligerently, but he gamely advanced towards John, albeit with a ferocious scowl on his face. “Pucker up, Francis,” he muttered before he kissed John in what had to be the quickest kiss in the history of the world.
John appeared unfazed as he spun next and got Cory. They grinned at each other like idiots and when they kissed, it was kind of cute, Mike mused, exchanging a smile with Tom.
Cory took his turn. The bottle landed on Jared, causing Jensen to chuckle at his side. Jared’s hand went immediately to rub the back of his neck, and his face was red as he glanced at Jensen. Mike almost laughed outright; it was as if he was asking for permission. Jensen bumped his shoulder and Jared leaned forward, quickly brushing his lips across Cory’s before leaning back into the safety of Jensen’s side.
He had to be reminded that it was his turn next. When the bottle pointed at Mark, he looked a little terrified. Mark, on the other hand, leered at him, one eyebrow quirking in a weird come-hither manner that should have been creepy, but was really kind of hot.
The guys chuckled as Mark crawled towards Jared from across the circle, on all fours, languid, like a jungle cat. Jared audibly gulped, and he may have gripped Jensen’s knee for support, which Jensen would have willingly given had he not been sniggering uncontrollably. Mark grasped Jared’s face between his palms and let him have it, and when he relinquished his hold, Jared actually collapsed in a heap, practically in Jensen’s lap.
Mark quirked that eyebrow at Jensen. “You’re next,” he stated cockily, and this time, it was Jensen who gulped, the smile sliding off his face. “I rock at this fucking game.” And leaning back on his heels, he spun the bottle, never once letting his hooded gaze stray from Jensen’s.
Tom looked at Mike as the bottle slowed to a stop... pointed right at Jensen. Jared looked flabbergasted, his mouth agape. This was working out a little better than they had hoped, Mike thought gleefully. Everyone and their mother knew Jared had a possessive streak a mile-wide when it came to Jensen. Everyone, that is, except Jensen, the poor, oblivious (but hopefully not for long) idiot.
Mark raised himself up until he was kneeling in front of Jensen, forcing his head to tilt upwards. Jared frowned mightily, and Mike wondered if he realized that his hand was pressed against Jensen’s chest, as if holding him back. It didn’t work though, because Mark still kissed him.
It was kinda hot, and both Carlson and Kane wolf-whistled.
And then Jared pushed Mark off of Jensen with a well-placed shove to his gut. Mark merely leaned back on his hands and smirked up at Jared’s exceedingly unhappy face, not even the least bit worried. “Your turn, Ackles,” he said as he sidled back to his spot.
Jensen spun as Jared huffed and pouted next to him. “This game sucks,” he muttered.
Jensen got Chris, who smiled at him, leaned in and then pretended to jerk away at Jared’s warning expression. He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Jensen’s mouth. Then he leaned over and bussed Jared’s cheek. “Don’t worry, man,” he teased. “I’m pretty sure Ackles still loves you best.”
And while Mike wondered just how subtle this plan of his really was, Hodge - probably the only guy there who had actually been watching the goddamn game - jumped up and declared that half-time was probably over and they should get back to the game.
Curses, foiled again.
“Don’t worry,” Tom suddenly appeared at his side, whispering in his ear, “I have an idea.”
Mike grinned. Yeah. Tommy was getting kissed to within an inch of his life tonight.
About an hour and a half later, the guys were considerably more buzzed, and it didn’t take as much convincing to get them to pick up the game where they had left off. It may have also had to do with the fact that Tom had turned the whole thing into a prank on Jensen and Jared, so their teammates’ participation was actually enthusiastic this time around.
Tom, with his sneaky ninja ways, had managed to get them settled with Jensen and Jared sitting opposite each other this time, Jensen still serene - as long as he wasn’t looking at Mark - and Jared still grumpy. The guys sitting on either side of them inched slowly away with every spin of the bottle, as Chad kissed Zach, who kissed Kane, who kissed Chris, who kissed Misha, who kissed Hodge... and it went on without the bottle ever pointing at either of its two intended targets.
But then it landed on Mark, who had to kiss Cory, and didn’t look too happy about it; Cory kissed Tom - who looked like he had enjoyed that a little too much for Mike’s liking - and then, Tom kissed him, and he forgot the rest of the world for a bit, and just revelled in the feel of the man he loved, even if it was for just a couple of seconds until Tom pulled back with a happy sigh.
Mike spun the stupid bottle and it landed on Jensen. Fucking finally. Jensen smirked at him, not looking worried at all. If only he knew.
Mike smiled angelically and kissed him, short and sweet.
Then Jensen took his turn and the entire team got to their feet, the bottle pointing at thin air, and who knew who had been sitting there before? Point was, Jensen and Jared were the only two left in the circle.
Funnily enough, even with everyone else standing around smirking down at them, neither of them put up much of a fuss. Surprise, surprise, Mike thought with a sardonic smile as he and the rest of the guys nudged each other, laughing and teasing, as Jared and Jensen moved towards each other on their knees.
They smiled at each other, their features soft and amorous, and how the hell did they not get it? Mike refused to sigh sappily as Jared cupped Jensen’s face in his big hands as he leaned closer, whispering something.
May I?
Jensen nodded almost imperceptibly as Jared lowered his head, his lips ghosting over Jensen’s, brushing back and forth before settling down and pressing close. As his mouth opened over Jensen’s, Jared’s hands slid down from Jensen’s face and he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around Jensen’s body, bringing them flush against each other, while Jensen buried his hands in Jared’s hair, giving as good as he was getting.
The quiet, passionate heat of that kiss was making Mike blush a little, and the guys who had been laughing at them just seconds ago were now looking distinctly flustered, several of them looking at the apartment door with longing.
“I’ma go to the bar and pick up some chicks,” Chad suddenly stated, tearing his eyes away from the still-kissing couple, “Mish, you in?” He asked, hurriedly heading towards the door.
“Yeah,” Misha replied, clearing his throat and noticing he had a bottle of beer in his hand, he raised it to his mouth and drained it. “Who else is in?” There was a chorus of consent and suddenly only Mike and Tom were left standing there.
They looked at each other for a bit, and then at Jared and Jensen (who were still kissing). Mike smirked and held out his hand, a full-blown smile on his face as Tom’s hand slipped into his, as if it belonged there (which it totally did), and they walked out together.
See? Sometimes his dastardly plotting ended really, really well.
|*|*|*|
This time when there was a knock on his door, Zach didn’t start; he thought he knew for sure who would be standing on the other side.
Everyone - no exceptions - everyone in that room had been at least a little turned on by that kiss.
Chris smiled shyly at him when he opened the door. “Do you... would you?” He cleared his throat and started over. “Wanna take a walk? We can watch the sunset over Lake Ontario and maybe walk on the beach, grab some dinner?”
“Depends. If I go out with you tonight, are we going to spend all of next week playing tag again where all you seem to do is avoid and evade me?”
“I...,” Chris huffed. “I’m sorry. I was panicking. That was me panicking.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because you’re so... you’re so you! It’s intimidating!”
“I’m so... me?”
“Yes,” Chris breathed, soundly relieved that he understood. “Exactly.”
“It’s not often that I will admit to being completely baffled by something, but there it is. Of course I’m me... did you want me to be someone else?”
“No, of course not!”
“Then my initial bafflement stands.”
“See? That’s what I mean! Nothing ruffles that cool exterior. I have no idea what you’re thinking,” Chris dragged his hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you like me? Do you not like me?”
Zach almost laughed at the synchronicity of their thoughts. He held up a hand when it looked like Chris was going to say something else. “I like you. Kind of a lot.”
“Really?” A goofy smile lit up his face. “So we’re doing this then?”
“On a regular basis I hope.”
“Stupendous.”
“Really?” Zach smirked as Chris shrugged playfully. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on a kiss goodnight after every date.”
“Agreed,” Chris smirked at him. “Maybe even two. Maybe more. Maybe more than just kisses. If you play your cards right.”
“I excel at card games,” Zach smiled and grabbed the sweater that was hanging behind the door. “Okay then.”
They were just about to walk out of the apartment when Chris suddenly turned around and grabbed him, one arm winding around his waist while the other cupped the back of his neck.
And then he kissed him. Soundly. His mouth closed over Zach’s, his tongue slipping slowly inside to run across the front of his teeth, causing him to shiver, before it plunged deep, exploring, teasing, demanding a response. Zach sighed into the intrusion, pushing Chris back until they both collided with the door, their tongues tangling in a way that was oddly both playful and erotic.
He moaned when Chris pulled away smiling. “I couldn’t wait until after dinner, so that was a good-afternoon kiss, you know, just in case you were wondering.”
“Good to know.”
“I thought so.”
“This communication thing works well.”
“I know, right? We should pay more attention to how Jensen and Jared do it.”
|*|*|*|
The knock on door was unusual but David yanked it open anyway, figuring the guys had forgotten something, except... John stood there, and David kind of forgot how to breathe.
Goddamn it. What the fuck was it about this kid that tied his guts up in complicated knots that would make a seasoned sailor envious?
David Boreanaz had rules for how he lived his life and played ball; one of the most stringent of those was: Don’t shit where you eat.
So this attraction he felt for the kid? It was never going to go anywhere. Even if the kid looked like some delectable delicacy with his black curls, brown eyes, perfect milky skin and those cherry-red lips. Christ. Plus, the kid was just that - a goddamn kid. Which made David’s lustful inclinations border on pedophilia... so yeah, it sucked big time. It sucked more that David hadn’t really been able to get away and get his needs taken care of since the season had started.
He huffed out an annoyed breath. “What do you want, Francis?”
“You.”
David froze, not sure if he had heard right. “What?”
John muscled his way in - and that did not mean he was stronger than David, no fucking way; it just meant that David was still in shock. “I saw Kane, Carlson and Hodge head out with Misha and Chad, and I just thought now would be a good time to drop by for a little chat,” he drawled in that stupidly sexy voice of his, absently studying his fingernails as if he was discussing the weather with someone who was not David.
“Well, you thought wrong, Francis,” David managed to say with some degree of coherence, “now, get out.”
“No,” John said flippantly, “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”
“No,” David mocked, “I’m going to count to three and you’re gonna get gone.”
John sighed, sounding severely put-upon. David kind of wanted to slug him. “Fine,” he acquiesced and some of the tension left David’s body. But then suddenly, John was up in his personal space, breathing on him. David stupidly shrunk back against the wall in the narrow entry way as John slammed the front door shut behind him. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, David, but you leave me no choice.”
“Get the fuck off of me!” David yelled, but before he could push the other man back, John knelt in front of him... and what the fuck?
John didn’t bother with words; his mouth was too busy doing other things - like driving David slowly insane - because that mouth, shit, that mouth was ghosting over his cock. And then suddenly, David’s jeans were undone and John had his cock in his hand and his tongue poked out to lick and suck at the crown and... and... David’s head slammed back against the wall so hard he was pretty sure he saw stars.
His frazzled brain couldn’t still couldn’t fathom what the fuck was going on, and forget coherent thought now, because all the blood in his body appeared to be heading in the direction of his dick which seemed to have found its safe haven within the wet silk of John’s mouth.
“What... are... you... doing?” David panted, fighting a goddamn battle with his hands because they wanted nothing more than to sink into and tug at those thick black curls.
John pulled off and David almost cried, with relief or regret, he wasn’t quite sure. “If you can’t tell what I’m doing, this relationship is not going to work.”
“What relationship? We don’t have a goddamn relationship,” David managed to grind out.
“Yet,” John said confidently, “but we will.” He fisted David’s dick as he spoke, his grip tight, the friction amazing. It was so much better when the hand jerking you off was not your own. David refused to moan his pleasure.
“You’re just a kid.”
“I keep telling you I’m not.”
“Well, you look like one.”
“Well, I’m not one.”
“You act like one!”
“Well, so do you, but do you see me complaining?”
David looked down at him in disbelief. “You bitch all the goddamn time.”
John smirked. “So you noticed. Good to know,” he smiled secretly to himself - because David sure as hell didn’t know what that look was about - as he rubbed his cheek along the length of his engorged cock before taking it in his mouth again, and fuck, he looked gorgeous like that, and that was David’s last rational thought as he was taken deeper, almost into John’s throat.
John took his hands and placed them on his head as he sucked fiercely, tonguing the sensitive bundle of nerves on the underside of his cock, his own hands inching David’s jeans down until they slid behind him to grip his bare ass, keeping David anchored to his mouth. David didn’t really make a conscious decision to thrust into that mouth; he just did. And then he did it again when John moaned in seeming ecstasy. And he did it again and again until he was spilling down John’s throat, his head spinning as he was slid down the wall to the floor, boneless.
John wiped a hand across his mouth, smiling smugly at David. Then he leaned in and kissed him, those cherry lips of David’s fantasies covering his, that tongue that had driven him crazy just a few seconds ago now finding a new playground in his mouth as it tried to coax David’s tongue to come play.
Resistance, it appeared, was futile.
David kissed him back. With all the longing he had been holding back since he had first seen this boy in Dunedin, he kissed him back. They both moaned this time, John’s fingers delving into the short hair on his head, holding him in place so there was no escape, just surrender.
Finally, what seemed like a lifetime later, John pulled away, breathless, flushed. Beautiful. He took a deep breath and appeared to be collecting his thoughts as he peered deep into David’s eyes. “I want this. I want you. I have for a long time,” he whispered as something shrivelled and twisted in David’s chest unravelled. “I’m going to leave the ball in your hands, David. If you decide you want me too, then you know where to find me.”
And with those words, and one final kiss, he was gone.
|*|*|*|
Genre: J2 RPS, AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared although - Heh! You know major league teams have 25-man rosters, right?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, Baseball, Schmoop, Angst, Boy-Sexin’ (wait, what kind of warning is that?)
Word Count: ~ 5,000
Disclaimer: Fiction not fact. All these beautiful guys belong to themselves. Jensen and Jared belong to each other, we all know that :D Only the words are mine. No copyright infringement intended for the use of the MLB teams/players/logos, the Toronto Star, or Rogers Sportsnet. This is for fun, not profit.
A/N: Okay, I gave into a fandom cliché that has been done by authors way more talented than me. Still, I hope you like my take on it, because it fit so well into the plot, I couldn’t resist. Eek!
On another note, in case you're wondering, the next few chapters leading up to the end will be heavy on the J2, and you're all in for a few surprises. I can't wait to share them with you!
Enjoy! Comments = Love!
Summary: It becomes apparent to certain members of the team that Jared and Jensen may be two of the most oblivious people on the planet. So, Mike (well duh, of course it was Mike) decides to give them a little nudge (shove?) in the right direction. Interestingly enough, his devious machinations also have some unexpected side-effects.
( 1 ), ( 2 ), ( 3 ), ( 4 ), ( 5 ), ( 6 ), ( 7 ), ( 8 ), ( 9 ), ( 10 )
ELEVEN: YOU SPIN MY HEAD RIGHT ROUND WHEN YOU GO DOWN
Zach sighed as he looked down at his phone. Still no call, still no reply to his text, still no knock on his door. In other words, Chris was still avoiding him.
What did that mean? I had a great time in Atlanta, and then again in Tampa, and once more in Baltimore, but we’re back in Toronto now, and I don’t... what? I don’t date in Toronto? I don’t want to date you in Toronto? I don’t want to date you, period? Hit the road, Zach, and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more?
He fell back on his bed and imagined intricate patterns on the ceiling. Chris was in the room next door, for Pete’s sake. He could just walk over there and confront him, demand answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Had he read too much into their dates? Maybe he had thought they had had fun, but Chris had found them lacking? He groaned and had flashback to when he was in high school, agonizing over the boy he liked and whether or not that boy liked him back.
He hadn’t. And Zach seriously hoped that in this case, history would not repeat itself.
Although, there had been that one kiss. He put a lot of his stock of hope into that kiss, the one at the end of their third date, in the back of their cab as they went from restaurant back to the hotel. One sweet, scorching kiss that he had hoped they could repeat again and again.
But no. Nada. Zilch.
And Chris losing the last game of the series against the Angels just before the break hadn’t helped matters. Zach knew he always got gloomy after a loss, but this time, he had shut himself off completely. And silent and broody was not a good look on Chris. Well, all right, it was a good look on Chris, but Zach didn’t appreciate the sentiment behind it and the whole situation just sucked.
The sudden knock on his bedroom door surprised him so much that he catapulted off of bed, his heart hammering away inside his chest. He forced himself to calm down before opening it, deflating a little to see John on the other side, Cory standing just behind him.
“We’re going to Jensen and Jared’s to watch the Argos game. You in?”
He really wanted to ask them if they knew where Chris was, but he stifled the impulse. “Yeah, I’m in.”
|*|*|*|
Mike silently sipped from his beer bottle as he surveyed the living room in Jensen and Jared’s apartment. The guys who lived on their floor had all gathered there to watch the Toronto Argonauts, the CFL football team that the Jays shared the Rogers Centre with, play a home game. It had been a fun, relaxing day; the guys just chilling with each other for the most part, Chad providing most of the off-screen entertainment.
He really liked that the team could just kick back and unwind together like this; it wasn’t often that they had the chance to do it during the season, but the All-Star break afforded them that opportunity. And since they had a one more day-off before their next game, even he and Tom could relax from their trip to Kansas City.
He smiled when Tom walked into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of beer himself, slid onto the barstool next to him, his broad shoulders bumping affectionately against Mike.
“What are you thinking?” Tom asked quietly.
Mike smiled. “That I’m really lucky,” he said as he looked at Tom. “I have you, the team. The guys are great, you know? This is my second-best year in the majors.”
Tom looked taken aback, but he took the bait. “And the first?”
“The year I met you,” Mike grinned. “I was with the Mariners, you were with the Angels. It was a good year.”
“We hated each other’s guts!”
Mike shrugged. “Foreplay.”
Tom laughed, his gaze softening. “I know,” Tom told him, his smile wide and honest, “and after these past few months, I never want to be on a different team from you again. I think I’d rather retire.”
Mike studied him, surprised at the sincerity of his words. He didn’t say anything though, but he understood. Hell, he felt the same way. He let his knuckles brush softly against Tom’s forearm. Tom’s smile turned bashful, and he sighed a little, leaning into the feather-light touch. “I hope we keep this group of guys around for a few years. I know for sure I’d miss those two knuckleheads,” he nodded in the direction of the loveseat, where Jared was sprawled across the length of it, his mile-long legs hanging off one end, while his head rested against Jensen’s shoulder. As they watched, Jared turned to whisper something to Jensen, who leaned in to listen, and they smiled at each other, Jensen nodding as Jared scooted closer, Jensen’s hand latching onto Jared’s shoulder as he massaged away an apparent kink there.
“They are so comfortable with each other,” Tom remarked thoughtfully, still studying them, watching as they spoke softly to each other, as if they were the only two people in the room. “Do you think they realize?”
“That they’re practically in love with each other?”
“Yeah.”
“No. They redefine the word oblivious.” Mike looked at the other guys in the room; no one seemed to think Jensen and Jared’s interactions were anything out of the ordinary, and in fact, right from the get-go, no one ever had. It was easy to forget that these two had just met a few months ago, and now, it was hard to think of one without the other. “You think they need a little push in the right direction?”
Tom almost choked on his beer. “Mike! No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it won’t end well.”
“How do you know that?”
“Michael, none of your dastardly plots ever end well...”
“That is a goddamn lie.”
“Michael...,” Tom gave him an arch look.
“Have I ever told you that I love it when you get annoyed with me? It makes your eyes flash blue - like a blue flame, it’s hypnotic - and then you call me ‘Michael’. I love that.”
“Quit trying to distract me,” Tom furrowed his brow at him. “They’re straight. They don’t need a push. Let them come to their own decision.”
“They’re as straight as we are, Tommy.”
“And do you remember how difficult it was for us, Mike? How difficult it still is? We can joke and fool around but this sort of thing gets out and careers get ended. This isn’t the minors, where maybe you can hide it. It’s a tough choice, and it’s theirs to make.”
“I’m not suggesting we out them on Jays Central, Tommy; I’m just saying, let’s do a little experiment and see if they get a little less oblivious.”
Tom sighed heavily and Mike tried not to look triumphant. “What did you have in mind?”
“The way I see it, we look at this scientifically...”
“Scientifically?”
“Yes,” Mike nodded, getting enthused. “We have a hypothesis: those two are in love. Now, we need to prove it or disprove it.”
“Okay... How?”
“How do you know you’re falling in love, Tommy?” Mike turned to look at him, leaning closer now, whispering. “There’s the constant need to be together: check; to touch each other: check; you’re miserable apart: check - we all know what happened a few weeks ago with their rift; and when you’re together, you smile more, you laugh more, you’re happy and it shows: check, check and check.”
“You kiss more,” Tom reminded him huskily, his gaze dropping to Mike’s mouth, and heat flared in Mike’s stomach. “You want to kiss the other person all the time.”
“You do?”
“I do. Like right now.” The intensity in Tom’s eyes made Mike want to grab him and race across the hall to their own apartment so he could show Tom exactly what being in love was all about. It was tempting, but time enough for that a little later.
“Well, that’s where they need the push. We need to get them to kiss.”
“They kissed at their wedding,” Tom reminded him.
“That doesn’t quite count, plus it was too early in their relationship. It has to be now.”
“Well, we can’t get them prank-married again, how do you expect to pull this off?”
“I don’t know. Do we dare them? I think that would embarrass them and they’d mess it up. It has to be in a stress-free environment.”
“Good luck with that,” Tom scoffed, draining his bottle and thumped it down on the tiled countertop, where it over-balanced and landed on its side, spinning slightly. Mike watched the bottle with rapt fascination, and Tom, taking one look at his face, burst out laughing. “It’s perfect. Let’s do it.”
|*|*|*|
“Spin the Bottle?” Chad squawked at Mike. “You want to play ‘Spin the Bottle’?”
“What are we, in junior high?” Misha asked, amused.
“Dude, that’s like the best idea ever! I’m down,” Chad laughed, looking entirely too delighted at that prospect for a straight guy. Or mostly straight guy - Mike wasn’t too sure, and really? He never, ever wanted to contemplate the nature of Chad’s sex life.
The rest of the guys were a little harder to convince. “We’re bored, and it’s half-time. There’s nothing better on,” Mike wheedled.
“Survivor Man is on,” Jensen called out helpfully, and it distracted quite a few of the guys who had been staring at Mike is disbelief.
“It’s a repeat,” Tom interjected smoothly, grabbing the remote from Jared’s hand and turning the television off. “Let’s play.”
“Come on,” Mike cajoled. “It can’t be worse than that time last season where we all played strip poker.”
“Jesus!” David sputtered. “We agreed never to speak of that night again!” Mike laughed and the others who had been in attendance that fateful night laughed too.
“Dude, also - there are no girls here,” Hodge pointed out.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious, we’re playing the gays version... oops, I meant, the Jays version,” Tom smirked at him, and Mike really, really wanted to kiss him.
Mike smirked at Hodge instead. “Hodgie, we’ve got John, Jensen, Chris and Tom - all of whom are pretty, pretty princesses. And then we’ve got Jared and Kane and Carlson with their lustrous locks who could pass for girls if you squint at them just right.”
“Hil-fucking-larious, asswipe,” Kane grumped, belching loudly as if in testament to his manhood. “I’m not kissing dick.”
“There will be no dick-kissing,” Mike leered at him as he draped an arm over Kane’s shoulders. “Not unless you ask nicely.”
“Fuck you, Rosie.”
“No, definitely no fucking. I don’t want Tommy getting jealous no matter how hot you are for my bod, Kane.” Mike ducked out of the way of Kane’s reach with a laugh. “Come on, guys, it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, fun,” Chad grinned, showing all his sharp little pearly whites. “Plus, you never know where this might lead,” he mused out loud, with a shrewd but speaking look at Mike. Mike allowed his gaze to flicker surreptitiously in the direction of the loveseat where Jensen and Jared still sat. Chad got it immediately.”Asses in a circle on the floor, bitches,” he ordered, yanking Misha to his side and smooched his stubbly face. “Kiss me... beneath the milky twilight...”
“Oh God,” Misha muttered, casting his eyes heavenward as if seeking divine guidance.
“Lead me... out on the moonlit floor...” Chad sang, off-key and with abandon, “Lift your open hand, and let the fireflies... er... do something some-thing... and kiss me.”
“I can’t believe you knew most of the lyrics to that girly song.”
“Dude, it’s a classic. It was in that movie with the dorky chick who got made-over into a total hottie,” Chad sat down and pulled at Misha’s hand until he practically fell to the floor, somehow arranging himself cross-legged in a graceful move. The other guys reluctantly joined in forming a haphazard oval.
“I’m not drunk enough for this shit,” Carlson complained.
“I’m sitting but I’m not kissing any of you assholes,” David groused, guzzling his Corona.
“Well, then, David - we’ll just have to dare you to do something else instead. Something you might like even less,” Mike sweetly informed him.
“Bite me.”
“You didn’t use the magic word, so no.”
“Spin the damn bottle, Mikey,” Chad yelled.
Mike spun it, laughing uproariously when it came to stop pointing directly at David, who closed his eyes in consternation, but scrambled up on all fours anyway.
“Get over here, Rosie,” he growled as Mike grinned. Then he clasped his hand behind Mike’s head and proceeded to try to kiss the living daylights out of him. It would have worked, except Mike was still laughing and before long, David shoved him away, wiping his spit-slick mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at him. “Not s’posed to laugh, dickhead.”
“Prick,” Mike snarked affectionately. “Your turn.”
David spun and the bottle pointed at John. “The fucking universe is against me,” David muttered belligerently, but he gamely advanced towards John, albeit with a ferocious scowl on his face. “Pucker up, Francis,” he muttered before he kissed John in what had to be the quickest kiss in the history of the world.
John appeared unfazed as he spun next and got Cory. They grinned at each other like idiots and when they kissed, it was kind of cute, Mike mused, exchanging a smile with Tom.
Cory took his turn. The bottle landed on Jared, causing Jensen to chuckle at his side. Jared’s hand went immediately to rub the back of his neck, and his face was red as he glanced at Jensen. Mike almost laughed outright; it was as if he was asking for permission. Jensen bumped his shoulder and Jared leaned forward, quickly brushing his lips across Cory’s before leaning back into the safety of Jensen’s side.
He had to be reminded that it was his turn next. When the bottle pointed at Mark, he looked a little terrified. Mark, on the other hand, leered at him, one eyebrow quirking in a weird come-hither manner that should have been creepy, but was really kind of hot.
The guys chuckled as Mark crawled towards Jared from across the circle, on all fours, languid, like a jungle cat. Jared audibly gulped, and he may have gripped Jensen’s knee for support, which Jensen would have willingly given had he not been sniggering uncontrollably. Mark grasped Jared’s face between his palms and let him have it, and when he relinquished his hold, Jared actually collapsed in a heap, practically in Jensen’s lap.
Mark quirked that eyebrow at Jensen. “You’re next,” he stated cockily, and this time, it was Jensen who gulped, the smile sliding off his face. “I rock at this fucking game.” And leaning back on his heels, he spun the bottle, never once letting his hooded gaze stray from Jensen’s.
Tom looked at Mike as the bottle slowed to a stop... pointed right at Jensen. Jared looked flabbergasted, his mouth agape. This was working out a little better than they had hoped, Mike thought gleefully. Everyone and their mother knew Jared had a possessive streak a mile-wide when it came to Jensen. Everyone, that is, except Jensen, the poor, oblivious (but hopefully not for long) idiot.
Mark raised himself up until he was kneeling in front of Jensen, forcing his head to tilt upwards. Jared frowned mightily, and Mike wondered if he realized that his hand was pressed against Jensen’s chest, as if holding him back. It didn’t work though, because Mark still kissed him.
It was kinda hot, and both Carlson and Kane wolf-whistled.
And then Jared pushed Mark off of Jensen with a well-placed shove to his gut. Mark merely leaned back on his hands and smirked up at Jared’s exceedingly unhappy face, not even the least bit worried. “Your turn, Ackles,” he said as he sidled back to his spot.
Jensen spun as Jared huffed and pouted next to him. “This game sucks,” he muttered.
Jensen got Chris, who smiled at him, leaned in and then pretended to jerk away at Jared’s warning expression. He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Jensen’s mouth. Then he leaned over and bussed Jared’s cheek. “Don’t worry, man,” he teased. “I’m pretty sure Ackles still loves you best.”
And while Mike wondered just how subtle this plan of his really was, Hodge - probably the only guy there who had actually been watching the goddamn game - jumped up and declared that half-time was probably over and they should get back to the game.
Curses, foiled again.
“Don’t worry,” Tom suddenly appeared at his side, whispering in his ear, “I have an idea.”
Mike grinned. Yeah. Tommy was getting kissed to within an inch of his life tonight.
About an hour and a half later, the guys were considerably more buzzed, and it didn’t take as much convincing to get them to pick up the game where they had left off. It may have also had to do with the fact that Tom had turned the whole thing into a prank on Jensen and Jared, so their teammates’ participation was actually enthusiastic this time around.
Tom, with his sneaky ninja ways, had managed to get them settled with Jensen and Jared sitting opposite each other this time, Jensen still serene - as long as he wasn’t looking at Mark - and Jared still grumpy. The guys sitting on either side of them inched slowly away with every spin of the bottle, as Chad kissed Zach, who kissed Kane, who kissed Chris, who kissed Misha, who kissed Hodge... and it went on without the bottle ever pointing at either of its two intended targets.
But then it landed on Mark, who had to kiss Cory, and didn’t look too happy about it; Cory kissed Tom - who looked like he had enjoyed that a little too much for Mike’s liking - and then, Tom kissed him, and he forgot the rest of the world for a bit, and just revelled in the feel of the man he loved, even if it was for just a couple of seconds until Tom pulled back with a happy sigh.
Mike spun the stupid bottle and it landed on Jensen. Fucking finally. Jensen smirked at him, not looking worried at all. If only he knew.
Mike smiled angelically and kissed him, short and sweet.
Then Jensen took his turn and the entire team got to their feet, the bottle pointing at thin air, and who knew who had been sitting there before? Point was, Jensen and Jared were the only two left in the circle.
Funnily enough, even with everyone else standing around smirking down at them, neither of them put up much of a fuss. Surprise, surprise, Mike thought with a sardonic smile as he and the rest of the guys nudged each other, laughing and teasing, as Jared and Jensen moved towards each other on their knees.
They smiled at each other, their features soft and amorous, and how the hell did they not get it? Mike refused to sigh sappily as Jared cupped Jensen’s face in his big hands as he leaned closer, whispering something.
May I?
Jensen nodded almost imperceptibly as Jared lowered his head, his lips ghosting over Jensen’s, brushing back and forth before settling down and pressing close. As his mouth opened over Jensen’s, Jared’s hands slid down from Jensen’s face and he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around Jensen’s body, bringing them flush against each other, while Jensen buried his hands in Jared’s hair, giving as good as he was getting.
The quiet, passionate heat of that kiss was making Mike blush a little, and the guys who had been laughing at them just seconds ago were now looking distinctly flustered, several of them looking at the apartment door with longing.
“I’ma go to the bar and pick up some chicks,” Chad suddenly stated, tearing his eyes away from the still-kissing couple, “Mish, you in?” He asked, hurriedly heading towards the door.
“Yeah,” Misha replied, clearing his throat and noticing he had a bottle of beer in his hand, he raised it to his mouth and drained it. “Who else is in?” There was a chorus of consent and suddenly only Mike and Tom were left standing there.
They looked at each other for a bit, and then at Jared and Jensen (who were still kissing). Mike smirked and held out his hand, a full-blown smile on his face as Tom’s hand slipped into his, as if it belonged there (which it totally did), and they walked out together.
See? Sometimes his dastardly plotting ended really, really well.
|*|*|*|
This time when there was a knock on his door, Zach didn’t start; he thought he knew for sure who would be standing on the other side.
Everyone - no exceptions - everyone in that room had been at least a little turned on by that kiss.
Chris smiled shyly at him when he opened the door. “Do you... would you?” He cleared his throat and started over. “Wanna take a walk? We can watch the sunset over Lake Ontario and maybe walk on the beach, grab some dinner?”
“Depends. If I go out with you tonight, are we going to spend all of next week playing tag again where all you seem to do is avoid and evade me?”
“I...,” Chris huffed. “I’m sorry. I was panicking. That was me panicking.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because you’re so... you’re so you! It’s intimidating!”
“I’m so... me?”
“Yes,” Chris breathed, soundly relieved that he understood. “Exactly.”
“It’s not often that I will admit to being completely baffled by something, but there it is. Of course I’m me... did you want me to be someone else?”
“No, of course not!”
“Then my initial bafflement stands.”
“See? That’s what I mean! Nothing ruffles that cool exterior. I have no idea what you’re thinking,” Chris dragged his hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you like me? Do you not like me?”
Zach almost laughed at the synchronicity of their thoughts. He held up a hand when it looked like Chris was going to say something else. “I like you. Kind of a lot.”
“Really?” A goofy smile lit up his face. “So we’re doing this then?”
“On a regular basis I hope.”
“Stupendous.”
“Really?” Zach smirked as Chris shrugged playfully. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on a kiss goodnight after every date.”
“Agreed,” Chris smirked at him. “Maybe even two. Maybe more. Maybe more than just kisses. If you play your cards right.”
“I excel at card games,” Zach smiled and grabbed the sweater that was hanging behind the door. “Okay then.”
They were just about to walk out of the apartment when Chris suddenly turned around and grabbed him, one arm winding around his waist while the other cupped the back of his neck.
And then he kissed him. Soundly. His mouth closed over Zach’s, his tongue slipping slowly inside to run across the front of his teeth, causing him to shiver, before it plunged deep, exploring, teasing, demanding a response. Zach sighed into the intrusion, pushing Chris back until they both collided with the door, their tongues tangling in a way that was oddly both playful and erotic.
He moaned when Chris pulled away smiling. “I couldn’t wait until after dinner, so that was a good-afternoon kiss, you know, just in case you were wondering.”
“Good to know.”
“I thought so.”
“This communication thing works well.”
“I know, right? We should pay more attention to how Jensen and Jared do it.”
|*|*|*|
The knock on door was unusual but David yanked it open anyway, figuring the guys had forgotten something, except... John stood there, and David kind of forgot how to breathe.
Goddamn it. What the fuck was it about this kid that tied his guts up in complicated knots that would make a seasoned sailor envious?
David Boreanaz had rules for how he lived his life and played ball; one of the most stringent of those was: Don’t shit where you eat.
So this attraction he felt for the kid? It was never going to go anywhere. Even if the kid looked like some delectable delicacy with his black curls, brown eyes, perfect milky skin and those cherry-red lips. Christ. Plus, the kid was just that - a goddamn kid. Which made David’s lustful inclinations border on pedophilia... so yeah, it sucked big time. It sucked more that David hadn’t really been able to get away and get his needs taken care of since the season had started.
He huffed out an annoyed breath. “What do you want, Francis?”
“You.”
David froze, not sure if he had heard right. “What?”
John muscled his way in - and that did not mean he was stronger than David, no fucking way; it just meant that David was still in shock. “I saw Kane, Carlson and Hodge head out with Misha and Chad, and I just thought now would be a good time to drop by for a little chat,” he drawled in that stupidly sexy voice of his, absently studying his fingernails as if he was discussing the weather with someone who was not David.
“Well, you thought wrong, Francis,” David managed to say with some degree of coherence, “now, get out.”
“No,” John said flippantly, “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”
“No,” David mocked, “I’m going to count to three and you’re gonna get gone.”
John sighed, sounding severely put-upon. David kind of wanted to slug him. “Fine,” he acquiesced and some of the tension left David’s body. But then suddenly, John was up in his personal space, breathing on him. David stupidly shrunk back against the wall in the narrow entry way as John slammed the front door shut behind him. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, David, but you leave me no choice.”
“Get the fuck off of me!” David yelled, but before he could push the other man back, John knelt in front of him... and what the fuck?
John didn’t bother with words; his mouth was too busy doing other things - like driving David slowly insane - because that mouth, shit, that mouth was ghosting over his cock. And then suddenly, David’s jeans were undone and John had his cock in his hand and his tongue poked out to lick and suck at the crown and... and... David’s head slammed back against the wall so hard he was pretty sure he saw stars.
His frazzled brain couldn’t still couldn’t fathom what the fuck was going on, and forget coherent thought now, because all the blood in his body appeared to be heading in the direction of his dick which seemed to have found its safe haven within the wet silk of John’s mouth.
“What... are... you... doing?” David panted, fighting a goddamn battle with his hands because they wanted nothing more than to sink into and tug at those thick black curls.
John pulled off and David almost cried, with relief or regret, he wasn’t quite sure. “If you can’t tell what I’m doing, this relationship is not going to work.”
“What relationship? We don’t have a goddamn relationship,” David managed to grind out.
“Yet,” John said confidently, “but we will.” He fisted David’s dick as he spoke, his grip tight, the friction amazing. It was so much better when the hand jerking you off was not your own. David refused to moan his pleasure.
“You’re just a kid.”
“I keep telling you I’m not.”
“Well, you look like one.”
“Well, I’m not one.”
“You act like one!”
“Well, so do you, but do you see me complaining?”
David looked down at him in disbelief. “You bitch all the goddamn time.”
John smirked. “So you noticed. Good to know,” he smiled secretly to himself - because David sure as hell didn’t know what that look was about - as he rubbed his cheek along the length of his engorged cock before taking it in his mouth again, and fuck, he looked gorgeous like that, and that was David’s last rational thought as he was taken deeper, almost into John’s throat.
John took his hands and placed them on his head as he sucked fiercely, tonguing the sensitive bundle of nerves on the underside of his cock, his own hands inching David’s jeans down until they slid behind him to grip his bare ass, keeping David anchored to his mouth. David didn’t really make a conscious decision to thrust into that mouth; he just did. And then he did it again when John moaned in seeming ecstasy. And he did it again and again until he was spilling down John’s throat, his head spinning as he was slid down the wall to the floor, boneless.
John wiped a hand across his mouth, smiling smugly at David. Then he leaned in and kissed him, those cherry lips of David’s fantasies covering his, that tongue that had driven him crazy just a few seconds ago now finding a new playground in his mouth as it tried to coax David’s tongue to come play.
Resistance, it appeared, was futile.
David kissed him back. With all the longing he had been holding back since he had first seen this boy in Dunedin, he kissed him back. They both moaned this time, John’s fingers delving into the short hair on his head, holding him in place so there was no escape, just surrender.
Finally, what seemed like a lifetime later, John pulled away, breathless, flushed. Beautiful. He took a deep breath and appeared to be collecting his thoughts as he peered deep into David’s eyes. “I want this. I want you. I have for a long time,” he whispered as something shrivelled and twisted in David’s chest unravelled. “I’m going to leave the ball in your hands, David. If you decide you want me too, then you know where to find me.”
And with those words, and one final kiss, he was gone.
|*|*|*|