Lights and Buzz
Title: Lights and Buzz
Author: 2theletter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ian Kinsler/Josh Hamilton
Synopsis: Seven years after an injury ends his baseball career, Ian Kinsler's got little to be merry about on Christmas Eve. Broke and driving cross-country without a plan, he ends up on Josh Hamilton's doorstep.
Disclaimer: 'Twas the night before Christmas, and none of this is true. Not even the sex. To all, a good night.
Ian Kinsler drove into Asheville on a rainy Christmas Eve. The first big drops hit his windshield around Nashville, and it hadn't stopped pouring since. The calm voice of the afternoon NPR anchor in Knoxville told him it was a low moving south out of Ohio, as though that was supposed to help Ian see through the driving rain any better.
Nearly everything he owned was in his two-door hatchback, which itself had nearly been sold three months before to make rent. Fortunately, his mom wired him enough to pay off the lease and get the hell out of Tempe. He went back to Tuscon to stay with his parents for a while, but regressing to his teenage living conditions drove Ian to his wit's end. On a sunny Tuesday morning, he stuffed everything he possibly could into his car and drove east with a vague plan about finding work in the Tidewater region of Virginia. Or maybe the Outer Banks. Or anywhere that wasn't dry, arid and blindingly bright 360 days of the year.
Kinsler had a lot of time to think on the trip east. As the continent rolled past like a blanket under his tires, he thought back to the major league career that went bust. Almost unconsciously, he rubbed the knee that cost him his job. He tore the shit out of his ACL in 2012 and though he rehabbed like hell, there was no way he'd be as good after his return. He gave it a shot anyway, but the Rangers' front office apparently saw what it needed to see and designated him the following season. Kinsler banged around in one of the independent leagues for a couple of years, hoping another team might pick him up. No one did. That's when he got the shithole apartment in Tempe, working as an instructor at a local batting clinic.
He lost touch with most of his teammates. He'd talk with Moreland occasionally, sometimes Derek Holland. He hadn't talked to C.J. Wilson since he signed that deal with the Angels. Ian made enough with the instructing gig and occasional photo-ops to keep the lights on. He told himself it was just until he got himself back up on his feet, maybe signed on with another team -- even if it meant a front office job or something. He was still working at the clinic when it closed down about four years later. To his name, Ian Kinsler had two AL Championship rings, cartons of Rangers memorabilia, and a few boxes of Ramen noodles. But no paycheck.
What a way to go, he thought, sitting on the sagging couch in his spartan living room.
Kinsler struggled to see through the curtain of rain that wrapped around his car as he plodded through the foggy, misty mountains near the Tennessee-North Carolina border. Something about the area seemed familiar. The names on the road signs. Of course. Hamilton lives around here somewhere.
Instantly, Kinsler's chest was filled with warmth. He missed Josh the most. Ian hadn't talked to him in years. He watched Josh continue to dominate the American League. He watched Hamilton finally lead the Rangers to a World Series victory in 2016. And one sweltering day the next October, he flipped on SportsCenter to see a clip of Hamilton announcing his retirement. And in all those times, Ian never thought about picking up the phone and congratulating him. Or even a simple, "Hey, Josh. How's it going?"
On impulse, Ian fished his cell phone out of a pile of burger wrappers in the passenger seat and called Hamilton. He hoped to God Josh still had the same cell phone number.
"Hello?" an uncertain voice said.
Ian blinked. "Uh, yeah -- um, hey. It's--it's me, Josh. Ian. Ian Kinsler."
The reply was warm and immediate. "Oh! Ian! Oh, man! How are you?"
Kinsler gritted his teeth. "Good. All good. Listen, I think I'm kind of in your neighborhood, a little. And I thought maybe I could...you know, I could stop by or something. If that's okay with you."
"Yes! Yeah, come on by! Where are you?"
"On I-40." Ian saw a green exit sign flash by. "Cold Springs Creek?"
"Okay, yeah. You just crossed into North Carolina. You'll be in Asheville in about an hour. Call me when you get closer, and I'll give you the directions."
The place was gorgeous. Josh's house was in the midst of an upscale neighborhood. Christmas lights adorned every eave of every home, and the illuminated Santas were tasteful, not like the tacky inflatable ones back in Tuscon. Ian felt self-conscious. This wasn't his kind of town. Not his kind of people. He spied the brass address marker on Josh's mailbox and pulled into the driveway. He had no umbrella, so he dashed as quickly as he could to the front porch. He didn't bother locking the car; if anyone saw anything in there worth stealing, they were in worse shape than Kinsler.
He rang the doorbell, but almost immediately regretted it. The colossal stupidity of the night hit him at once. What would Hamilton say? What if he didn't really want to see Ian, but just felt too much pity to tell him no? Here he was, soaking wet and flat broke, with no plan and no life, dropping in on Christmas Eve, for God's sake. But before he could turn around and walk back to the car, the front door swung open.
Ian gasped involuntarily. He could see Hamilton had aged, but he'd aged so gracefully in the seven years since they'd last seen each other. Josh was a few years from forty, but he was still tall and strong. Still had that curly red hair. His pecs still bulged in crisp double arcs visible through his T-shirt. His jawline had softened, but dark red stubble covered it beautifully. Kinsler was taken aback. He must have looked and smelled like a wet dog after the car trip. But Hamilton's face lit up, that wide, flawless grin spreading as he pulled Ian in for a tight hug. His warm arms wrapped around Ian, instantly making the younger man feel at ease. Josh smelled vaguely of cinnamon, which Ian thought was an odd thing to notice about someone he hadn't talked to in nearly a decade.
Hamilton released Ian and looked him over. "Damn. Ian. It is so good to see you. Come on in."
He placed a hand on Ian's back and gently guided him in, shutting the door behind them. The house was bright, warm and dry, three things Ian never thought he'd be glad to see after leaving Arizona. Ian shrugged off his wet hoodie and handed it to Hamilton.
Josh placed it on a coat rack and brushed past him. "Sorry. I have to get to the kitchen. Come on."
Ian followed him into the spacious kitchen. Hamilton opened the oven door. "Hey, hand me those oven mitts."
"Josh, you were just about to have dinner?" Ian said. "Shit, man. I wish you'd told me. I'm interrupting your dinner."
"You're not," Josh said, "In fact, it's great you stopped by. Lemme guess -- you've eaten your weight in Taco Bell this week."
Ian blushed.
"Yeah, see," Josh said, putting the bubbling casserole on the counter to cool. "I'd be a terrible friend if I let you drive all the way across North Carolina all night without something to eat."
Ian noticed Josh's use of the word friend, and wondered why he still called Kinsler that after all these years. He felt a flutter in his stomach.
Josh explained the casserole as some kind of chicken-cheese-noodle-garlic-broccoli thing, but all Ian knew was that the first bite was perhaps the most glorious thing he'd ever eaten. It was the first thing he'd had in two weeks that hadn't come out of a vending machine or a paper sack at a fast food joint. Josh chuckled to himself as Ian wolfed down the meal. After dinner, they adjourned to the living room. Ian was sitting on a plush sofa in front of the sandstone fireplace that dominated one side of the room. His face was warmed by the heat coming off the fire inside, and his clothes were finally drying out. Josh sat in a nearby chair, sipping a mug of coffee.
"You warmin' up over there, Kins?" Josh asked, smiling.
"Yeah, thank you."
"You never told me -- why were you going to Virginia?"
Ian lied. "I've got a job lined up. I always liked the ocean, and Cali's too expensive."
"Heh, yeah," Josh replied. "You ever talk to Wilson?"
"Naw. Not since he moved to Anaheim."
Hamilton nodded. "He called it quits about a year or two ago. I think he still surfs. Man, I miss him."
A lull set in. Both men listened to the sound of the rain pelting the wide windows. The lights on Josh's Christmas tree cast an ethereal glow over the room.
The silence unnerved Ian. "This is a really nice place," he said.
"Oh, thanks. I got it after Katie and me divorced." Josh smiled wistfully. "I wanted to be close to my parents, but not too close."
Ian shook his head, remembering the three months he spent at his parents' house. "Yeah, I know that feeling."
"It's good, 'cause I get to see the girls pretty often. They're just on the other side of Raleigh. You'll drive right by 'em on your way to the coast."
Ian was confused. "But isn't it--I mean, it is absolutely none of my business, but--"
Josh looked down into his coffee mug. "Katie has 'em this year. I had them for Thanksgiving. I'm going to go visit them day after tomorrow."
"I wasn't trying to..."
"I know."
Ian was desperate for a change in subject. "You like it here?"
Josh sighed. "Oh, yeah. A lot. When it's not raining, it's gorgeous around here. In the winter, I go skiing up at Boone. In the summer I go rafting down on the Ocoee. There's always something to do. It's definitely the way to retire."
"I bet it is."
Josh took a slurp of his coffee. "What kind is it?"
Kinsler knitted his brow. "What?"
"What kind of job is it you have lined up?"
Ian hadn't thought out his backstory. "Oh. Yeah. Um...doing a little coaching. Middle school. Junior varsity stuff. Nothing interesting."
"That sounds really cool. When you get settled in up there, gimme a call. I'll come up there for the day."
Ian smirked. "So I can tell 'em I know Josh Hamilton?"
"No. So I can tell them I know Ian Kinsler."
Kinsler ducked his head, hoping the low light in the room hid his red face.
"The weather's really bad," Josh said. "They said it might turn into snow overnight."
"So?"
"So it's gonna be dangerous to drive in all that. You're from Arizona. Do you guys even have snow?"
Ian adopted a look of mock indignation. "Technically, yes! In the mountains! Or, you know, so I've heard."
Hamilton laughed. "Listen. You've slept in a motel every night for the past two weeks. Or your car."
Ian cringed, remembering the lumpy mattresses and rusty showerheads in his wake.
"So stay here tonight. Virginia will still be there tomorrow."
Ian shook his head. "No. No, absolutely not. I couldn't do that to you. You've been far too nice as it is, and I'm not going to wear out my welcome."
"Far too nice?"
"You've been calling me your friend," Ian said. "You let me crash your house on Christmas Eve, eat your food and sit on your couch. And we haven't seen each other in...I'm not kidding. I don't even know how long. I just feel...I feel like shit. I didn't check on you when you and Katie got divorced. I didn't even call you when you retired. That doesn't sound like something a friend would do to you."
Hamilton put his mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward. "So what? You had other stuff going on. Look at it this way: You were driving across the country on Christmas Eve, and you thought of me. After all this time, you didn't forget about me. Friends don't forget. Even if they don't call as often as they should."
Josh slid over onto the couch, butting up against Ian's side. "I can't even tell you how good it is to see you."
Ian's mouth suddenly went dry. "Yeah. You, too."
"You really should stay tonight."
"I can't."
Josh turned Ian's head toward his own. He leaned in for a kiss, his lips warm and soft against Ian's chapped ones. He sat back and smiled. "I insist."
Ian gulped. "Okay."
Josh stood up and gestured for Ian to follow him. They walked up a staircase, passing stuffed and shellacked fish, souvenirs of Josh's fishing trips. Ian's eyes widened as they entered Josh's bedroom. The room was bigger than his old apartment in Tempe. Josh grinned slickly and shoved Ian into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He kissed Kinsler and grabbed the bottom of Ian's shirt, pulling it up and off.
"Gotta get you out of those wet clothes," Josh whispered. His tongue traced a line along the edge of Ian's ear. Kinsler shuddered.
Josh hooked a finger around the waistband of Ian's sweatpants. "Those, too." Ian complied, sliding the damp fabric down his legs. He felt a little self-conscious. Josh dispensed with his own shirt and pants in short order. Ian was duly impressed; Josh had put on a few pounds, but he wore it well. His body just looked like a slightly softer version of the one Kinsler had seen so many times in the clubhouse. He couldn't believe how Josh Josh still was.
"Damn, you look so good," Ian whispered.
"I ain't an old man yet," Josh said, jokingly flexing a bicep. He took a bottle of lube out of his nightstand and tossed it to Ian. He climbed up onto the bed, almost swallowed up in the thick comforters. He playfully bit at Ian's toes, working his way up Kinsler's legs.
"You sure you're okay with this?" Hamilton asked.
"I wouldn't be up here with you if I wasn't."
Josh squeezed the bulge forming in Ian's boxers. "Okay with this?"
"Heh. Yep."
Hamilton chuckled and pulled at the elastic waistband. Ian raised his hips a little so Josh could drag the boxers off his body. Ian's erection popped out into the open, probably delighted to see it wasn't Ian's hand reaching for it for the 3,000th time. Josh kissed Kinsler as he gave Ian's dick a few gentle tugs.
"Geez, I didn't even ask -- You ever do this with a guy before?" Josh asked.
"Yeah," Ian replied. "It's been a little while, though."
Josh kissed his way down Ian's chest. "Don't know what they're missin', do they?"
"Could say the same for you."
Hamilton leaned across Ian to reach the condom laying on the nightstand. He unrolled the thin rubber sheath down the length of his swollen member. Ian winced as Josh's thick cock stretched his sphincter. It had been a while.
"You okay?" Josh asked. Ian nodded. Hamilton eased a little more of himself in, and Ian took a few moments to get adjusted. He gave his assent, and Josh stroked deep into him, long and slow. A few minutes later, Ian felt comfortable with the rhythm and the thrusts. Josh's strong hands gripped Ian's calves as he picked up the pace. Of course sex with Hamilton would be comfortable, Ian thought. Everything about him -- the house, the food, Josh himself -- made him warm and comforted in a way he hadn't known in a long time. Not since his life fell out from under him on a bad slide to second, when he felt his knee give way and his career spin out of his grasp.
Hamilton's body tensed up, and Ian felt his dick swell inside his ass. He wished he could feel the warm ropes of cum flood his guts, but this was pretty damn good, too. Hamilton caught his breath and gently pulled out. He tossed the condom in a trashcan and returned to the bed. Wearing a smoldering grin, he lowered himself to Ian's crotch and took the flared head into his mouth.
Ian raised his head. "Hey, you don't have to--"
Josh looked up. "Naw, man. This is all for you."
Hamilton went to town on Ian's cock, and Kinsler came in almost embarrassing rapidity. If Hamilton noticed, he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he reached under the bed and pulled out a roll of paper towels. He wiped his hands off with one, and used another to soak up the mess around Ian's cock. Josh pulled the blankets up around the two of them and snuggled up behind Ian. He wrapped his arms around Kinsler. "Comfy?" he asked.
Ian yawned. "More than you could know."
"When you called me tonight, it was like a miracle or something. I was getting ready to spend the holiday alone, and from out of nowhere comes a friend I hadn't seen in forever. You were right there, on my doorstep. I just thought...I don't know. It seemed like if this was going to happen, it better happen tonight. 'Cause I didn't know if it was going to be another six or seven years before I'd see you again."
"I really am sorry," Ian said.
"I know. Don't worry about it. You're here. That's what counts."
Josh squeezed Ian tightly, then released him. He rolled over and turned off his bedside lamp.
"Night, Kins."
"Good night, Josh."
Just before Ian fell asleep, he saw flecks of white outside the bedroom windows.
Snow, he thought. He closed his eyes and the world turned off for the night.
Ian woke up, and it took him a minute to remember he wasn't in some seedy hotel room or the cramped backseat of his car in a rest area parking lot. The mattress was soft beneath him. The sheets and comforter cushioned him. An arm draped over his chest.
Wait a minute.
He looked to his right, following the arm back up to its owner. Ian thought all this with Josh had been a dream, but if that were true, it felt pretty damn real. Hamilton's broad, freckled shoulders moved up-and-down with each deep breath.
"Josh?" Ian whispered. "Josh?"
"Mmm. Yeah." Hamilton's voice was raspy.
"Hey."
Josh looked up, a hazy smile painting his face. "You woke me up to tell me hi?"
"I guess so."
"Okay," Hamilton laughed and rolled over, dragging his arm off Ian's chest. "I guess I should get up, anyway. I need to call the girls and find out what Santa brought 'em."
Josh sat up, putting his feet on the floor. He stretched and yawned, standing up. Ian studied Hamilton's back and his nicely-rounded ass. Hamilton picked up his boxer-briefs and slipped them on. He turned around to face Ian. "What do you want for breakfast?"
"What do you have?"
Josh scratched his abs. "You're still a waffle man, right?"
"Hell yeah. I can't get enough of 'em."
"All right. Waffles, coming right up."
Josh started walking to the bedroom door. Ian called after him.
"Yeah?"
Kinsler sighed. "I was lying last night. I don't have a job lined up. I don't even know if I have enough gas money to get to Virginia."
Hamilton smirked. "I kinda figured."
"But if you knew, why didn't you -- Why are you being so good to me?"
Josh paused for moment, considering his words. "When I said I wanted you to stay, I didn't mean just for the night. I want you to stay. Period."
Ian thought his heart would burst right then and there. "Seriously?"
Hamilton nodded. "Seriously."
"I don't even--"
"We have a lot of catching up to do." Josh smiled. "Merry Christmas, Ian."
Ian couldn't say anything. Josh walked downstairs, and soon Kinsler could hear the sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. Ian got out of the bed and walked across the soft carpet to a window. He pulled a curtain away and looked out at the neighborhood. The sight took his breath away. Crisp, white snow mantled homes, lawns and decorations. Even his beaten-up car looked nicer than it had any right to.
The world was beautiful, just for a moment. Ian smiled. He let the curtain fall back into place, and walked downstairs to join Josh.
Author: 2theletter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ian Kinsler/Josh Hamilton
Synopsis: Seven years after an injury ends his baseball career, Ian Kinsler's got little to be merry about on Christmas Eve. Broke and driving cross-country without a plan, he ends up on Josh Hamilton's doorstep.
Disclaimer: 'Twas the night before Christmas, and none of this is true. Not even the sex. To all, a good night.
Ian Kinsler drove into Asheville on a rainy Christmas Eve. The first big drops hit his windshield around Nashville, and it hadn't stopped pouring since. The calm voice of the afternoon NPR anchor in Knoxville told him it was a low moving south out of Ohio, as though that was supposed to help Ian see through the driving rain any better.
Nearly everything he owned was in his two-door hatchback, which itself had nearly been sold three months before to make rent. Fortunately, his mom wired him enough to pay off the lease and get the hell out of Tempe. He went back to Tuscon to stay with his parents for a while, but regressing to his teenage living conditions drove Ian to his wit's end. On a sunny Tuesday morning, he stuffed everything he possibly could into his car and drove east with a vague plan about finding work in the Tidewater region of Virginia. Or maybe the Outer Banks. Or anywhere that wasn't dry, arid and blindingly bright 360 days of the year.
Kinsler had a lot of time to think on the trip east. As the continent rolled past like a blanket under his tires, he thought back to the major league career that went bust. Almost unconsciously, he rubbed the knee that cost him his job. He tore the shit out of his ACL in 2012 and though he rehabbed like hell, there was no way he'd be as good after his return. He gave it a shot anyway, but the Rangers' front office apparently saw what it needed to see and designated him the following season. Kinsler banged around in one of the independent leagues for a couple of years, hoping another team might pick him up. No one did. That's when he got the shithole apartment in Tempe, working as an instructor at a local batting clinic.
He lost touch with most of his teammates. He'd talk with Moreland occasionally, sometimes Derek Holland. He hadn't talked to C.J. Wilson since he signed that deal with the Angels. Ian made enough with the instructing gig and occasional photo-ops to keep the lights on. He told himself it was just until he got himself back up on his feet, maybe signed on with another team -- even if it meant a front office job or something. He was still working at the clinic when it closed down about four years later. To his name, Ian Kinsler had two AL Championship rings, cartons of Rangers memorabilia, and a few boxes of Ramen noodles. But no paycheck.
What a way to go, he thought, sitting on the sagging couch in his spartan living room.
Kinsler struggled to see through the curtain of rain that wrapped around his car as he plodded through the foggy, misty mountains near the Tennessee-North Carolina border. Something about the area seemed familiar. The names on the road signs. Of course. Hamilton lives around here somewhere.
Instantly, Kinsler's chest was filled with warmth. He missed Josh the most. Ian hadn't talked to him in years. He watched Josh continue to dominate the American League. He watched Hamilton finally lead the Rangers to a World Series victory in 2016. And one sweltering day the next October, he flipped on SportsCenter to see a clip of Hamilton announcing his retirement. And in all those times, Ian never thought about picking up the phone and congratulating him. Or even a simple, "Hey, Josh. How's it going?"
On impulse, Ian fished his cell phone out of a pile of burger wrappers in the passenger seat and called Hamilton. He hoped to God Josh still had the same cell phone number.
"Hello?" an uncertain voice said.
Ian blinked. "Uh, yeah -- um, hey. It's--it's me, Josh. Ian. Ian Kinsler."
The reply was warm and immediate. "Oh! Ian! Oh, man! How are you?"
Kinsler gritted his teeth. "Good. All good. Listen, I think I'm kind of in your neighborhood, a little. And I thought maybe I could...you know, I could stop by or something. If that's okay with you."
"Yes! Yeah, come on by! Where are you?"
"On I-40." Ian saw a green exit sign flash by. "Cold Springs Creek?"
"Okay, yeah. You just crossed into North Carolina. You'll be in Asheville in about an hour. Call me when you get closer, and I'll give you the directions."
The place was gorgeous. Josh's house was in the midst of an upscale neighborhood. Christmas lights adorned every eave of every home, and the illuminated Santas were tasteful, not like the tacky inflatable ones back in Tuscon. Ian felt self-conscious. This wasn't his kind of town. Not his kind of people. He spied the brass address marker on Josh's mailbox and pulled into the driveway. He had no umbrella, so he dashed as quickly as he could to the front porch. He didn't bother locking the car; if anyone saw anything in there worth stealing, they were in worse shape than Kinsler.
He rang the doorbell, but almost immediately regretted it. The colossal stupidity of the night hit him at once. What would Hamilton say? What if he didn't really want to see Ian, but just felt too much pity to tell him no? Here he was, soaking wet and flat broke, with no plan and no life, dropping in on Christmas Eve, for God's sake. But before he could turn around and walk back to the car, the front door swung open.
Ian gasped involuntarily. He could see Hamilton had aged, but he'd aged so gracefully in the seven years since they'd last seen each other. Josh was a few years from forty, but he was still tall and strong. Still had that curly red hair. His pecs still bulged in crisp double arcs visible through his T-shirt. His jawline had softened, but dark red stubble covered it beautifully. Kinsler was taken aback. He must have looked and smelled like a wet dog after the car trip. But Hamilton's face lit up, that wide, flawless grin spreading as he pulled Ian in for a tight hug. His warm arms wrapped around Ian, instantly making the younger man feel at ease. Josh smelled vaguely of cinnamon, which Ian thought was an odd thing to notice about someone he hadn't talked to in nearly a decade.
Hamilton released Ian and looked him over. "Damn. Ian. It is so good to see you. Come on in."
He placed a hand on Ian's back and gently guided him in, shutting the door behind them. The house was bright, warm and dry, three things Ian never thought he'd be glad to see after leaving Arizona. Ian shrugged off his wet hoodie and handed it to Hamilton.
Josh placed it on a coat rack and brushed past him. "Sorry. I have to get to the kitchen. Come on."
Ian followed him into the spacious kitchen. Hamilton opened the oven door. "Hey, hand me those oven mitts."
"Josh, you were just about to have dinner?" Ian said. "Shit, man. I wish you'd told me. I'm interrupting your dinner."
"You're not," Josh said, "In fact, it's great you stopped by. Lemme guess -- you've eaten your weight in Taco Bell this week."
Ian blushed.
"Yeah, see," Josh said, putting the bubbling casserole on the counter to cool. "I'd be a terrible friend if I let you drive all the way across North Carolina all night without something to eat."
Ian noticed Josh's use of the word friend, and wondered why he still called Kinsler that after all these years. He felt a flutter in his stomach.
Josh explained the casserole as some kind of chicken-cheese-noodle-garlic-broccoli thing, but all Ian knew was that the first bite was perhaps the most glorious thing he'd ever eaten. It was the first thing he'd had in two weeks that hadn't come out of a vending machine or a paper sack at a fast food joint. Josh chuckled to himself as Ian wolfed down the meal. After dinner, they adjourned to the living room. Ian was sitting on a plush sofa in front of the sandstone fireplace that dominated one side of the room. His face was warmed by the heat coming off the fire inside, and his clothes were finally drying out. Josh sat in a nearby chair, sipping a mug of coffee.
"You warmin' up over there, Kins?" Josh asked, smiling.
"Yeah, thank you."
"You never told me -- why were you going to Virginia?"
Ian lied. "I've got a job lined up. I always liked the ocean, and Cali's too expensive."
"Heh, yeah," Josh replied. "You ever talk to Wilson?"
"Naw. Not since he moved to Anaheim."
Hamilton nodded. "He called it quits about a year or two ago. I think he still surfs. Man, I miss him."
A lull set in. Both men listened to the sound of the rain pelting the wide windows. The lights on Josh's Christmas tree cast an ethereal glow over the room.
The silence unnerved Ian. "This is a really nice place," he said.
"Oh, thanks. I got it after Katie and me divorced." Josh smiled wistfully. "I wanted to be close to my parents, but not too close."
Ian shook his head, remembering the three months he spent at his parents' house. "Yeah, I know that feeling."
"It's good, 'cause I get to see the girls pretty often. They're just on the other side of Raleigh. You'll drive right by 'em on your way to the coast."
Ian was confused. "But isn't it--I mean, it is absolutely none of my business, but--"
Josh looked down into his coffee mug. "Katie has 'em this year. I had them for Thanksgiving. I'm going to go visit them day after tomorrow."
"I wasn't trying to..."
"I know."
Ian was desperate for a change in subject. "You like it here?"
Josh sighed. "Oh, yeah. A lot. When it's not raining, it's gorgeous around here. In the winter, I go skiing up at Boone. In the summer I go rafting down on the Ocoee. There's always something to do. It's definitely the way to retire."
"I bet it is."
Josh took a slurp of his coffee. "What kind is it?"
Kinsler knitted his brow. "What?"
"What kind of job is it you have lined up?"
Ian hadn't thought out his backstory. "Oh. Yeah. Um...doing a little coaching. Middle school. Junior varsity stuff. Nothing interesting."
"That sounds really cool. When you get settled in up there, gimme a call. I'll come up there for the day."
Ian smirked. "So I can tell 'em I know Josh Hamilton?"
"No. So I can tell them I know Ian Kinsler."
Kinsler ducked his head, hoping the low light in the room hid his red face.
"The weather's really bad," Josh said. "They said it might turn into snow overnight."
"So?"
"So it's gonna be dangerous to drive in all that. You're from Arizona. Do you guys even have snow?"
Ian adopted a look of mock indignation. "Technically, yes! In the mountains! Or, you know, so I've heard."
Hamilton laughed. "Listen. You've slept in a motel every night for the past two weeks. Or your car."
Ian cringed, remembering the lumpy mattresses and rusty showerheads in his wake.
"So stay here tonight. Virginia will still be there tomorrow."
Ian shook his head. "No. No, absolutely not. I couldn't do that to you. You've been far too nice as it is, and I'm not going to wear out my welcome."
"Far too nice?"
"You've been calling me your friend," Ian said. "You let me crash your house on Christmas Eve, eat your food and sit on your couch. And we haven't seen each other in...I'm not kidding. I don't even know how long. I just feel...I feel like shit. I didn't check on you when you and Katie got divorced. I didn't even call you when you retired. That doesn't sound like something a friend would do to you."
Hamilton put his mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward. "So what? You had other stuff going on. Look at it this way: You were driving across the country on Christmas Eve, and you thought of me. After all this time, you didn't forget about me. Friends don't forget. Even if they don't call as often as they should."
Josh slid over onto the couch, butting up against Ian's side. "I can't even tell you how good it is to see you."
Ian's mouth suddenly went dry. "Yeah. You, too."
"You really should stay tonight."
"I can't."
Josh turned Ian's head toward his own. He leaned in for a kiss, his lips warm and soft against Ian's chapped ones. He sat back and smiled. "I insist."
Ian gulped. "Okay."
Josh stood up and gestured for Ian to follow him. They walked up a staircase, passing stuffed and shellacked fish, souvenirs of Josh's fishing trips. Ian's eyes widened as they entered Josh's bedroom. The room was bigger than his old apartment in Tempe. Josh grinned slickly and shoved Ian into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He kissed Kinsler and grabbed the bottom of Ian's shirt, pulling it up and off.
"Gotta get you out of those wet clothes," Josh whispered. His tongue traced a line along the edge of Ian's ear. Kinsler shuddered.
Josh hooked a finger around the waistband of Ian's sweatpants. "Those, too." Ian complied, sliding the damp fabric down his legs. He felt a little self-conscious. Josh dispensed with his own shirt and pants in short order. Ian was duly impressed; Josh had put on a few pounds, but he wore it well. His body just looked like a slightly softer version of the one Kinsler had seen so many times in the clubhouse. He couldn't believe how Josh Josh still was.
"Damn, you look so good," Ian whispered.
"I ain't an old man yet," Josh said, jokingly flexing a bicep. He took a bottle of lube out of his nightstand and tossed it to Ian. He climbed up onto the bed, almost swallowed up in the thick comforters. He playfully bit at Ian's toes, working his way up Kinsler's legs.
"You sure you're okay with this?" Hamilton asked.
"I wouldn't be up here with you if I wasn't."
Josh squeezed the bulge forming in Ian's boxers. "Okay with this?"
"Heh. Yep."
Hamilton chuckled and pulled at the elastic waistband. Ian raised his hips a little so Josh could drag the boxers off his body. Ian's erection popped out into the open, probably delighted to see it wasn't Ian's hand reaching for it for the 3,000th time. Josh kissed Kinsler as he gave Ian's dick a few gentle tugs.
"Geez, I didn't even ask -- You ever do this with a guy before?" Josh asked.
"Yeah," Ian replied. "It's been a little while, though."
Josh kissed his way down Ian's chest. "Don't know what they're missin', do they?"
"Could say the same for you."
Hamilton leaned across Ian to reach the condom laying on the nightstand. He unrolled the thin rubber sheath down the length of his swollen member. Ian winced as Josh's thick cock stretched his sphincter. It had been a while.
"You okay?" Josh asked. Ian nodded. Hamilton eased a little more of himself in, and Ian took a few moments to get adjusted. He gave his assent, and Josh stroked deep into him, long and slow. A few minutes later, Ian felt comfortable with the rhythm and the thrusts. Josh's strong hands gripped Ian's calves as he picked up the pace. Of course sex with Hamilton would be comfortable, Ian thought. Everything about him -- the house, the food, Josh himself -- made him warm and comforted in a way he hadn't known in a long time. Not since his life fell out from under him on a bad slide to second, when he felt his knee give way and his career spin out of his grasp.
Hamilton's body tensed up, and Ian felt his dick swell inside his ass. He wished he could feel the warm ropes of cum flood his guts, but this was pretty damn good, too. Hamilton caught his breath and gently pulled out. He tossed the condom in a trashcan and returned to the bed. Wearing a smoldering grin, he lowered himself to Ian's crotch and took the flared head into his mouth.
Ian raised his head. "Hey, you don't have to--"
Josh looked up. "Naw, man. This is all for you."
Hamilton went to town on Ian's cock, and Kinsler came in almost embarrassing rapidity. If Hamilton noticed, he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he reached under the bed and pulled out a roll of paper towels. He wiped his hands off with one, and used another to soak up the mess around Ian's cock. Josh pulled the blankets up around the two of them and snuggled up behind Ian. He wrapped his arms around Kinsler. "Comfy?" he asked.
Ian yawned. "More than you could know."
"When you called me tonight, it was like a miracle or something. I was getting ready to spend the holiday alone, and from out of nowhere comes a friend I hadn't seen in forever. You were right there, on my doorstep. I just thought...I don't know. It seemed like if this was going to happen, it better happen tonight. 'Cause I didn't know if it was going to be another six or seven years before I'd see you again."
"I really am sorry," Ian said.
"I know. Don't worry about it. You're here. That's what counts."
Josh squeezed Ian tightly, then released him. He rolled over and turned off his bedside lamp.
"Night, Kins."
"Good night, Josh."
Just before Ian fell asleep, he saw flecks of white outside the bedroom windows.
Snow, he thought. He closed his eyes and the world turned off for the night.
Ian woke up, and it took him a minute to remember he wasn't in some seedy hotel room or the cramped backseat of his car in a rest area parking lot. The mattress was soft beneath him. The sheets and comforter cushioned him. An arm draped over his chest.
Wait a minute.
He looked to his right, following the arm back up to its owner. Ian thought all this with Josh had been a dream, but if that were true, it felt pretty damn real. Hamilton's broad, freckled shoulders moved up-and-down with each deep breath.
"Josh?" Ian whispered. "Josh?"
"Mmm. Yeah." Hamilton's voice was raspy.
"Hey."
Josh looked up, a hazy smile painting his face. "You woke me up to tell me hi?"
"I guess so."
"Okay," Hamilton laughed and rolled over, dragging his arm off Ian's chest. "I guess I should get up, anyway. I need to call the girls and find out what Santa brought 'em."
Josh sat up, putting his feet on the floor. He stretched and yawned, standing up. Ian studied Hamilton's back and his nicely-rounded ass. Hamilton picked up his boxer-briefs and slipped them on. He turned around to face Ian. "What do you want for breakfast?"
"What do you have?"
Josh scratched his abs. "You're still a waffle man, right?"
"Hell yeah. I can't get enough of 'em."
"All right. Waffles, coming right up."
Josh started walking to the bedroom door. Ian called after him.
"Yeah?"
Kinsler sighed. "I was lying last night. I don't have a job lined up. I don't even know if I have enough gas money to get to Virginia."
Hamilton smirked. "I kinda figured."
"But if you knew, why didn't you -- Why are you being so good to me?"
Josh paused for moment, considering his words. "When I said I wanted you to stay, I didn't mean just for the night. I want you to stay. Period."
Ian thought his heart would burst right then and there. "Seriously?"
Hamilton nodded. "Seriously."
"I don't even--"
"We have a lot of catching up to do." Josh smiled. "Merry Christmas, Ian."
Ian couldn't say anything. Josh walked downstairs, and soon Kinsler could hear the sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. Ian got out of the bed and walked across the soft carpet to a window. He pulled a curtain away and looked out at the neighborhood. The sight took his breath away. Crisp, white snow mantled homes, lawns and decorations. Even his beaten-up car looked nicer than it had any right to.
The world was beautiful, just for a moment. Ian smiled. He let the curtain fall back into place, and walked downstairs to join Josh.