Morning After
Title: Morning After
Author: 2theletter
Rating: PG (mild language)
Pairing: Madison Bumgarner/Buster Posey
Synopsis: They had been fooling around for a while, and it wasn't at all unusual to find them making out in their apartments, or even secluded spaces at the park. What happened next, though, was unusual.
Disclaimer: This story and Uncle Sam have this in common: They're both made up. It's all fiction.
Buster had already been up for a while, and was thumbing through the Chronicle when he heard shuffling in the hallway. He flipped to an article in the business section as he heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on. He was into the fifth paragraph when Bumgarner finally sauntered into view, hair flattened on one side and wearing one of Posey's old FSU shirts.
He poured a cup of coffee and took a sip. He nodded his approval to Buster, who smirked and resumed reading.
"What's for breakfast?" the pitcher said, rummaging through a cabinet above the stove. "I'm starvin'."
Buster quirked his lips. "I think there are some frozen waffles. If not, there's uh...there might be some cheese puffs left, or a jar of olives."
Madison shut the cabinet door and glared at Posey. The catcher looked up at him. "I'm not your grocery store, Bum. We'll get some stuff later today."
The younger man sighed, picked up his coffee mug and plopped down at the kitchen table across from Posey. Buster put the paper down and looked into Bumgarner's eyes, still half-closed with sleep. "What do you want to do today?"
"Do today?" Bumgarner's face immediately revealed his confusion. "Don't we have to--" he stopped himself when he realized the next part of his sentence was going to be, go to the park today?
Posey smiled. "Season's over, remember? Time to break that habit for a little while."
"Sorry," Bumgarner said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm so used to having the routine."
The parade had been the previous day. The history of it was lost on the two young men. They were in junior high school in 2002. They were barely alive in '89, much less rooting for Will Clark, who from their perspective had always been a guy that worked in the front office. But they knew what it meant to the city, and of course the World Series was a huge fucking deal, no matter what team won it. They had accomplished in their rookie season what most guys didn't in whole lifetimes.
The blizzard of orange and black confetti swirled around them as they rode down Market Street, deafened by the cheers of thousands who turned out just to see them, be near them. It was one of the rare times Madison ever saw Buster lose his cool control. The catcher walked from end to end on his mock cable car, grinning, pointing and waving until the muscles in his jaw and his arms felt like jelly. And it still wasn't enough.
Buster couldn't believe the sight when he took to the podium at City Hall and gazed out to the sea of orange that filled Civic Center Plaza and spilled onto neighboring streets. Not naturally a speaker, he had to think of something to say for these fans, a national television audience, Mayor Newsom and Governor Schwarzenegger -- holy hell, was that Willie Mays on the other side of the dais?
"Geez," he muttered. "I can do this."
It was his turn.
"The San Francisco Giants," Buster said, throat suddenly very dry. "World Series champions."
Massive cheers from the crowd. Okay, this was a good start.
He repeated the line. More cheers. His confidence picked up.
"Lets enjoy this today, tomorrow, for a week, maybe even a month. Then let's get back to work and make another run at it."
He punctuated his last syllable by pounding his fist on the lectern. Damn, that felt good. The crowd roared its approval for the boy wonder and he stepped aside to listen to Freddy and Aubrey before he sat back down.
Bumgarner didn't speak at the ceremony. He may be dumb, he said, but he wasn't stupid. He teased Buster about the perfunctory delivery of his remarks all the way back to Posey's apartment, pounding the dashboard every time he mimicked the older man.
Posey pretended to be annoyed, but he couldn't stop smiling. Bumgarner could mock him, but the truth remained he got applause. Crowd applause. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Even Willie Mays seemed to be satisfied.
When they got back to Posey's place, they ordered pizza and cracked open a few beers and they told and re-told the events of the day. At one point, Posey stood up and walked to the kitchen to toss a few of the crushed beer cans in the trash. When he turned around, Bumgarner was in his face. He put his arms on either side of the catcher, pinning him next to the counter as he leaned in and kissed Posey. They had been fooling around for a while, and it wasn't at all unusual to find them making out in their apartments, or even secluded spaces at the park.
What happened next, though, was unusual.
"Bedroom," Posey whispered, his breath hot across Bumgarner's neck. There was a moment of hesitation from the pitcher, but he nodded, swallowed hard and followed Posey to his bedroom.
It was not without its logistical problems, given Madison's lanky frame, but on the whole it went smoother than he would have expected. Posey did most of the work, letting himself slip back into behind-the-dish mode as he patiently helped Bumgarner figure out what the hell he was doing. Afterward, he fell asleep in the tangled, sweat-covered sheets, Posey gently rubbing his back and telling him it was awesome.
Madison didn't realize his fingers were drumming on the table until he abruptly stopped them. He shifted in his seat. "Do we need to talk about this?"
Buster's eyes didn't move from the newspaper. "'This'?"
Bumgarner leaned over the table, and in a stage whisper said, "You know...what happened last night."
"That we had sex?" Buster asked. Madison blanched. "We're both consenting adults, Bum. We can say 'sex.'"
"Okay, whatever. It's just that...y'know. I've never woken up in another guy's bed before, and God, I never thought it'd be with my catcher. Or any teammate. I wonder..."
"Wonder what?"
"Did it...did it freak you out?"
Buster shrugged. "I have to say, for a novice, I was impressed with your skills. I've never seen anyone paint the corners like that."
Bumgarner blushed a deep red. "Damn it, Buster. I'm tryin' to be serious."
"So am I. I think the bigger question is: Did us sleeping together freak you out?"
Bumgarner hesitated. "Not really. But that's what freaks me out."
Buster put the paper down and looked right into Bumgarner's eyes. "Care to unpack that one for me?"
"What we did last night felt good. Real good. But it ain't supposed to."
"What?"
"It isn't supposed to feel good. It's supposed to be somethin' bad."
Buster put two and two together. "Madison, there's nothing wrong with--"
"That ain't what I was taught growin' up."
"Forget what you were taught. Listen to me. You're in control of what you do. Would I put you in harm's way?"
Madison shifted his gaze to the mug he cradled in his hands. "No, of course not."
"I care about you. A lot. I'd never tell you to do something that would hurt you. But I will tell you your parents aren't always right."
Madison looked back up at Posey. "Yeah, but--"
Buster cut him off. "People say what people say. You can't do a damn thing about it. Did you do something heinously wrong, or are you worried people back home are going to think you did something heinously wrong?"
"They don't like people like us back home."
Buster sighed. "I know. But not all them feel that way. Look, my parents freaked the fuck out when I told them about me. But they understand it has nothing to do with what I can do with my life. They want me to be successful and happy. This is just a part of that."
Bumgarner shook his head. "That's good for you. But I just don't think I'm ready to deal with--"
"Bum, the point is, if you feel like you did the right thing, you did the right thing. Fuck what everyone else thinks."
For the first time since the conversation started, Madison smiled. "I feel like you're the the right thing for me."
Now it was Posey's turn to blush. He folded the paper and pushed it aside. "Then that's what counts. Listen, you still hungry?"
Madison nodded. "Hell yeah."
"Let's go get something at that doughnut place over on Polk. I'm buying."
"I gotta at least brush my teeth first," Bumgarner said, standing up and stretching. "My breath smells like I been chewin' on Huff's thong for the past hour."
"Then do it. We're burnin' daylight."
"It's only nine o'clock!"
Buster shook his head. "We have a lot to do today. The Exploratorium's running an exhibit on earthquakes, we can swing through the waterfront on Bayshore, then hit lunch in Chinatown and maybe take the Bay Bridge to Berkeley for coffee and dinner."
"But why rush?" Bumgarner asked, as Posey gave him a gentle push down the hall to the bathroom. "We got the whole offseason!"
"Because there's only one today, Bum," Posey replied, grinning. "Gotta make the most of it."
Bumgarner leaned out the bathroom door, his mouth foamy with toothpaste. "No Castro today?"
Posey laughed. "Trust me. That's one thing you're nowhere near ready for."
Bumgarner finished brushing his teeth, then threw on a clean shirt and joined Posey in the hallway. He smiled and said, "Better?"
Posey caught Bumgarner's mouth with his own, tasting the mint on his breath. "Yep. Much better."
Buster locked up and they walked down the stairs to the street. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Bumgarner clasped Posey's hand, holding it in his firm grip.
Posey flashed a skeptical glance at him. "You sure?"
"What can I say?" Bumgarner replied, shrugging. "It feels right."
Author: 2theletter
Rating: PG (mild language)
Pairing: Madison Bumgarner/Buster Posey
Synopsis: They had been fooling around for a while, and it wasn't at all unusual to find them making out in their apartments, or even secluded spaces at the park. What happened next, though, was unusual.
Disclaimer: This story and Uncle Sam have this in common: They're both made up. It's all fiction.
Buster had already been up for a while, and was thumbing through the Chronicle when he heard shuffling in the hallway. He flipped to an article in the business section as he heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on. He was into the fifth paragraph when Bumgarner finally sauntered into view, hair flattened on one side and wearing one of Posey's old FSU shirts.
He poured a cup of coffee and took a sip. He nodded his approval to Buster, who smirked and resumed reading.
"What's for breakfast?" the pitcher said, rummaging through a cabinet above the stove. "I'm starvin'."
Buster quirked his lips. "I think there are some frozen waffles. If not, there's uh...there might be some cheese puffs left, or a jar of olives."
Madison shut the cabinet door and glared at Posey. The catcher looked up at him. "I'm not your grocery store, Bum. We'll get some stuff later today."
The younger man sighed, picked up his coffee mug and plopped down at the kitchen table across from Posey. Buster put the paper down and looked into Bumgarner's eyes, still half-closed with sleep. "What do you want to do today?"
"Do today?" Bumgarner's face immediately revealed his confusion. "Don't we have to--" he stopped himself when he realized the next part of his sentence was going to be, go to the park today?
Posey smiled. "Season's over, remember? Time to break that habit for a little while."
"Sorry," Bumgarner said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm so used to having the routine."
The parade had been the previous day. The history of it was lost on the two young men. They were in junior high school in 2002. They were barely alive in '89, much less rooting for Will Clark, who from their perspective had always been a guy that worked in the front office. But they knew what it meant to the city, and of course the World Series was a huge fucking deal, no matter what team won it. They had accomplished in their rookie season what most guys didn't in whole lifetimes.
The blizzard of orange and black confetti swirled around them as they rode down Market Street, deafened by the cheers of thousands who turned out just to see them, be near them. It was one of the rare times Madison ever saw Buster lose his cool control. The catcher walked from end to end on his mock cable car, grinning, pointing and waving until the muscles in his jaw and his arms felt like jelly. And it still wasn't enough.
Buster couldn't believe the sight when he took to the podium at City Hall and gazed out to the sea of orange that filled Civic Center Plaza and spilled onto neighboring streets. Not naturally a speaker, he had to think of something to say for these fans, a national television audience, Mayor Newsom and Governor Schwarzenegger -- holy hell, was that Willie Mays on the other side of the dais?
"Geez," he muttered. "I can do this."
It was his turn.
"The San Francisco Giants," Buster said, throat suddenly very dry. "World Series champions."
Massive cheers from the crowd. Okay, this was a good start.
He repeated the line. More cheers. His confidence picked up.
"Lets enjoy this today, tomorrow, for a week, maybe even a month. Then let's get back to work and make another run at it."
He punctuated his last syllable by pounding his fist on the lectern. Damn, that felt good. The crowd roared its approval for the boy wonder and he stepped aside to listen to Freddy and Aubrey before he sat back down.
Bumgarner didn't speak at the ceremony. He may be dumb, he said, but he wasn't stupid. He teased Buster about the perfunctory delivery of his remarks all the way back to Posey's apartment, pounding the dashboard every time he mimicked the older man.
Posey pretended to be annoyed, but he couldn't stop smiling. Bumgarner could mock him, but the truth remained he got applause. Crowd applause. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Even Willie Mays seemed to be satisfied.
When they got back to Posey's place, they ordered pizza and cracked open a few beers and they told and re-told the events of the day. At one point, Posey stood up and walked to the kitchen to toss a few of the crushed beer cans in the trash. When he turned around, Bumgarner was in his face. He put his arms on either side of the catcher, pinning him next to the counter as he leaned in and kissed Posey. They had been fooling around for a while, and it wasn't at all unusual to find them making out in their apartments, or even secluded spaces at the park.
What happened next, though, was unusual.
"Bedroom," Posey whispered, his breath hot across Bumgarner's neck. There was a moment of hesitation from the pitcher, but he nodded, swallowed hard and followed Posey to his bedroom.
It was not without its logistical problems, given Madison's lanky frame, but on the whole it went smoother than he would have expected. Posey did most of the work, letting himself slip back into behind-the-dish mode as he patiently helped Bumgarner figure out what the hell he was doing. Afterward, he fell asleep in the tangled, sweat-covered sheets, Posey gently rubbing his back and telling him it was awesome.
Madison didn't realize his fingers were drumming on the table until he abruptly stopped them. He shifted in his seat. "Do we need to talk about this?"
Buster's eyes didn't move from the newspaper. "'This'?"
Bumgarner leaned over the table, and in a stage whisper said, "You know...what happened last night."
"That we had sex?" Buster asked. Madison blanched. "We're both consenting adults, Bum. We can say 'sex.'"
"Okay, whatever. It's just that...y'know. I've never woken up in another guy's bed before, and God, I never thought it'd be with my catcher. Or any teammate. I wonder..."
"Wonder what?"
"Did it...did it freak you out?"
Buster shrugged. "I have to say, for a novice, I was impressed with your skills. I've never seen anyone paint the corners like that."
Bumgarner blushed a deep red. "Damn it, Buster. I'm tryin' to be serious."
"So am I. I think the bigger question is: Did us sleeping together freak you out?"
Bumgarner hesitated. "Not really. But that's what freaks me out."
Buster put the paper down and looked right into Bumgarner's eyes. "Care to unpack that one for me?"
"What we did last night felt good. Real good. But it ain't supposed to."
"What?"
"It isn't supposed to feel good. It's supposed to be somethin' bad."
Buster put two and two together. "Madison, there's nothing wrong with--"
"That ain't what I was taught growin' up."
"Forget what you were taught. Listen to me. You're in control of what you do. Would I put you in harm's way?"
Madison shifted his gaze to the mug he cradled in his hands. "No, of course not."
"I care about you. A lot. I'd never tell you to do something that would hurt you. But I will tell you your parents aren't always right."
Madison looked back up at Posey. "Yeah, but--"
Buster cut him off. "People say what people say. You can't do a damn thing about it. Did you do something heinously wrong, or are you worried people back home are going to think you did something heinously wrong?"
"They don't like people like us back home."
Buster sighed. "I know. But not all them feel that way. Look, my parents freaked the fuck out when I told them about me. But they understand it has nothing to do with what I can do with my life. They want me to be successful and happy. This is just a part of that."
Bumgarner shook his head. "That's good for you. But I just don't think I'm ready to deal with--"
"Bum, the point is, if you feel like you did the right thing, you did the right thing. Fuck what everyone else thinks."
For the first time since the conversation started, Madison smiled. "I feel like you're the the right thing for me."
Now it was Posey's turn to blush. He folded the paper and pushed it aside. "Then that's what counts. Listen, you still hungry?"
Madison nodded. "Hell yeah."
"Let's go get something at that doughnut place over on Polk. I'm buying."
"I gotta at least brush my teeth first," Bumgarner said, standing up and stretching. "My breath smells like I been chewin' on Huff's thong for the past hour."
"Then do it. We're burnin' daylight."
"It's only nine o'clock!"
Buster shook his head. "We have a lot to do today. The Exploratorium's running an exhibit on earthquakes, we can swing through the waterfront on Bayshore, then hit lunch in Chinatown and maybe take the Bay Bridge to Berkeley for coffee and dinner."
"But why rush?" Bumgarner asked, as Posey gave him a gentle push down the hall to the bathroom. "We got the whole offseason!"
"Because there's only one today, Bum," Posey replied, grinning. "Gotta make the most of it."
Bumgarner leaned out the bathroom door, his mouth foamy with toothpaste. "No Castro today?"
Posey laughed. "Trust me. That's one thing you're nowhere near ready for."
Bumgarner finished brushing his teeth, then threw on a clean shirt and joined Posey in the hallway. He smiled and said, "Better?"
Posey caught Bumgarner's mouth with his own, tasting the mint on his breath. "Yep. Much better."
Buster locked up and they walked down the stairs to the street. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Bumgarner clasped Posey's hand, holding it in his firm grip.
Posey flashed a skeptical glance at him. "You sure?"
"What can I say?" Bumgarner replied, shrugging. "It feels right."