Fic :: "love comes from the dirt in my own backyard" (2/2)
part one
*
A few girlfriends or wives showed up but it only ended up being nine people total at John’s place. It was just as well, it was a pretty small condo and from the look on Stacey’s face Johns hadn’t really asked before inviting over a mass of people. (Even if she hid it well, David knew what her thin-lipped smile translated to.)
Archie didn’t know where he was going, and so David had offered to take them. They stopped by a Sonics’ to grab drinks of the non-alcohol variety and by the time they walked in it was already in full swing. The girls had branched off and were talking in the living room, while most of the guys sat on the back porch with beers and even a few cigars.
David smiled encouragingly at Archie and jerked his head to two open chairs up wind of the smoke. They sat down and were barely registered due to what seemed like a pretty heated debate between Jason, Johns and Chikezie.
“Come off it,” Johns said, louder than was needed, “It’s not like you’re going to need her to be talking.”
David was pretty sure he had walked in on the wrong part of this conversation but when it came to this group of guys it was up for debate on where the right part of the conversation would be.
Jason shook his head, gulping at the beer he had been finishing while Johns had ranted, “I don’t care if she’s hot, I’d rather not date a Barbie.”
Chikezie snorted, “Which Barbie would she be? Dominatrix Barbie?”
Johns turned to David and Archie with sudden interest, “Come on, you two can settle the debate.”
“Sure?”
Chikezie put a hand up to shut Johns up, “Let me, you two are biased.”
David didn’t know how to tell Chikezie that there was a good chance the two of them weren’t biased at all, Johns and Jason just loved getting a rise out of each other. “Megan Fox?”
“What about her?” Archie asked with genuine confusion and David bit back a laugh. Before someone had to explain it Archie caught on and went wide-eyed. “The girl from Transformers? … oh... uh. Ew. I mean… NO. No, thank you?”
David snorted a sip of cherry limeade before he gave a choked chuckle, “I’m with Archie.”
Jason gave a celebratory pump of his fist. “Exactly.”
“Figures ,” Johns muttered.
David caught sight of Archie giving him a weird look and he felt something in his stomach warm pleasantly. He was forced to look away when the debate was taken anew, now switched to Rachel McAdams. (Who was unanimously voted hotter than Megan Fox and the bonus of intelligence made her the bar for the rest of the hotness debates for the night.)
David was usually pretty vocal during this part of parties, he knew it was mostly in his head but he always thought that his silence on the subject was all but coming out of the closet. But somehow, with Archie seated and silent beside him, he just didn’t feel like joining in. The guys didn’t notice much, except for when there was a tight enough race that their opinions would count in or against their favor. As the night wore on and the others got more and more drunk though, they were forgotten about entirely.
Content to just watch the debate, David didn’t even notice until past midnight that Archie’s eyes were barely staying open. He felt kind of like a jerk, as he knew he was the one to have the power of the ride home and he knew for a fact Archie would never have asked him to go.
He smiled and faked a loud yawn, which got the attention of Jason who looked amused.
“When’d you get old?” Jason teased, his voice just slightly slurred.
“Your mom just wore me out last night,” David shot back and a (thankfully empty) red cup was chucked at his head. He dodged it and looked at Archie. “Want to get out of here?”
Archie, who had sat up straighter in his seat and forced himself to look more awake, sagged slightly with relief, “Sure.”
*
Archie still lived in the interim housing that players were given when they first moved up. David didn’t have the heart to tell Archie that they called it ‘Limbo-land’ and took bets on just how long people who lived there were going to stay on the team. As he walked through the narrow hallway leading to Archie’s door he remembered his brief time there years back and the weird feeling of being on his own and scared.
“Have you gotten a chance to talk to your family?” he asked, his mouth opened before he could think just how rude that was.
Archie looked a little like a kicked puppy but he gave a vague nod. “I talked to … my mom. She and my sister Claudia were going to try and come up for a game. But… you know. Stuff came up.”
It was obvious how little he wanted to talk about it but with a lack of what to say next came instead a heavy silence between them. When Archie stopped at a door and grabbed in his pockets David figured it was about time to bow out.
“I guess I’ll see you when we get back,” he offered.
Archie swung the door open and turned to him like he hadn’t heard what he just said, “You want to come in?”
"Why not?" David smiled.
Archie's apartment was... for the lack of a better word, sterile. It wasn't meant to be the type of place you stay in for long, which David knew full well, but the only time he had seen a place this devoid of anyone living in it was the day he moved in. The fact that Archie had been there for weeks and it still looked just like he could leave with all his worldly good in five minutes flat made something in David's chest tug fiercely.
"Nice place?" he said, not convincingly, but Archie smiled like he believed him. (Somehow that made it worse.) "Have you gotten a chance to look for longer term?"
He got a shrug, and, despite the poor lighting, a blush as well. "I don't want to jinx it. Who knows where I'm going to be tomorrow?"
"What’re you talking about? You’re an awesome catcher. We're lucky to have you."
Archie looked up at him through his lashes. He stared for a long moment disbelievingly before it was gone, and even though the smile seemed genuine David had no idea how he could get from one look to the other so quickly.
“Do you want something to drink?”
David shrugged, “Whatcha got?”
They had maybe four feet between them and the fridge but rather than actually look in it Archie stared at it like he had x-ray vision. “Water, juice… I used the last of the milk for breakfast this morning… I think I have protein powder?”
“Water’s fine,” David smiled, and patted his stomach. “I’ve been working on my physique for years man, why change now?”
Archie came back out and handed him a cup, sheepishly trying to hide the cartoon character on the bottom of it. David smiled when he turned it around and looked over at Archie’s cup to smile as well.
“I get Sponge Bob but you get Sandy, how is that fair?”
Archie blinked at the cup in his hand and then back at David. “You watch Sponge Bob?”
“I’ve got a niece and nephew,” he said, skirting the fact that Sponge Bob was also kind of fun to watch on his own as well.
Archie looked away, “Yeah. I have younger siblings.”
If he was honest with himself, David would admit that this was the kind of situation alcohol was designed for. Bad for you or not, alcohol served as the social lubricant everyone needed to get them away from ending up on a couch in an apartment talking about their favorite characters from Sponge Bob Squarepants.
It wasn’t like he was a novice when it came to flirting, he actually considered himself to be quite a flirt when he wanted to be. Boys or girls, either way, he had a knack for the seamless flirt that got him free drinks at bars and phone numbers when he wanted them. But he knew, without a doubt, that he had no chance of getting Archie to bite the hook of any line. It was actually kind of petrifying.
After a while, though, he just gave up and began the slow process of inching himself across the couch and closer to where Archie sat seemingly oblivious. Not until there was no space between them, when David’s left thigh pressed against Archie’s right, did Archie seem to notice and he turned so fast that neither had time to stop his elbow from meeting David’s stomach.
“Ooof!”
“Oh my gosh,” Archie called out, already on his feet and flailing wildly. “I’m so sorry. Cook, are you okay? I’m so so so so so sorry.”
Finally able to catch his breath David put a hand up to stop Archie mid freak out. Only a bit breathless he reassured him, “I’m fine, Arch. Shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that, my fault too.”
Archie stood stock-still and looking at him, “Yeah, why did you move across the couch like that?”
David wanted to say something like, If you have to ask maybe I was off my mark. but knew that in this case that was probably not true. Instead he threw out protocol and grabbed out at Archie’s wrist. He pulled gently but seemingly caught Archie off guard and he fell forward onto him.
When their lips met it was smashed and uncomfortable, a mixture of over zealousness on David’s part and forward motion on Archie’s. But then David figured a way to tug Archie around and get him onto the couch with out breaking the kiss for more than a half a second and then they were kissing and much to David’s amazement Archie was kissing back.
The sound of whatever CD Archie had popped in was playing and it was the kind of moment that reminded David of stupid movies but for once he liked that. He put a hand on the couch’s arm and lifted himself up for a second to look.
“Hi,” Archie smiled, a little dazed but bright and happy.
David couldn’t help but laugh a little at how weird it was but leaned back in for another kiss before he thought better of it. Archie didn’t seem to mind.
*
By the time they stopped it was somewhere past three in the morning and Archie had fallen asleep in between one sentence and another. They hadn’t really done much. Actually, David felt more or less like he was in high school again, making out on the couch for hours to a repeating CD of a guy with a guitar and nothing else.
The rational part of him said to wake Archie up and lead him to his bed, to stay and to talk it out but he hadn’t listened to that part of himself in decades. He stood up and snuck out the door, thankful that no one was in the hallway to see him walking out.
*
It was embarrassing to see Archie the first day back, it had only been a few days since he had left Archie’s apartment but the time in between had mostly been spent thinking. By the time he saw Archie walk towards him, head down and looking disturbingly like a puppy, David had thought about everything enough that his brain ached.
A consolation, almost, would be that it looked like Archie had been thinking about it as well. He didn’t look tired, per se, just worn down and his usual morning excitement seemed subdued at best. David knew that the best thing to do would be to breach the subject, address what needed to be and then move on.
That would be the best thing, but it would require him to actually have an idea of what the hell he was doing and that was just not in the cards at all.
He closed his locker with a little more force than necessary and Archie jumped a foot in the air. David took a moment to mentally smack himself around before he turned and looked directly at Archie.
“Hey.”
Archie still looked nervous but his lips twitched upwards, “Hey.”
“We still on for tonight?”
Archie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tonight?”
“It’s Friday,” David said simply, and when Archie smiled he knew that had been the right thing to say.
*
The fireworks that night had the theme of “America”, not that creative and kind of cliché but it was worth it when Archie started to smile even before the first burst had faded from the sky. The game that day had been brutal, a loss for Jason and an embarrassing one at that. But neither of them had played and they had spent the entirety of the game leaned up against the bar watching the action and only slightly pressing up against each other.
It had become their ritual since the first time, every other week there was a fireworks display and every time they went to the special little cove of space that seemed completely forgotten by most. Archie had been the one to bring a quilt, stashed in the bottom of his locker, and they usually ended up having some of their better conversations during the hour-long shows.
They started with talk of the game, faded into a conversation about the upcoming road trip but it felt forced and it only lasted so long before they lapsed into silence. There was the issue that needed to be talked about, but he didn’t want to. In fact, given a list of a thousand things to do it was possibly just above ‘removing own tooth’.
With the beginning of Brooks and Dunn’s ‘Only in America’, David figured he had nothing else to lose. He exhaled the breath he hadn’t noticed himself holding and kept his eyes focused on the flash and then fade of each explosion.
“I guess we should talk about it,” he said. From beside him he heard a non-descript sigh, but he pressed on. “It’s kind of stupid for us to start something. We play for triple-A, and you are going places. Who knows where each of us will be at the end of this season.”
Another pause and then Archie spoke, “What if we’re still here at the end of the season?”
David doubted Archie would be, catchers were in short order especially in the Royals franchise at the moment and Archie really was good at what he did but it wasn’t worth the fight. He shrugged, “Then we’re here.”
“Can we…” Archie started and David finally turned to see him chewing on his bottom lip and looking up at the sky. “Would you mind if we just took it for now then? Enjoy the days as they come?”
Stunned, David nodded when Archie turned to him and then, without thinking, rolled over the last little bit and gave him a slow but chaste kiss. He rolled back over like it hadn’t just happened and watched the rest of the show in dead silence, the only thing different from earlier was his keen awareness of just how close Archie was to him.
When it was over Archie rolled the blanket up and looked at David nervously, “Want to go… um… home?”
“Yeah, I guess we should,” David smiled.
*
The transition from Archie and he as roommates to Archie and he as a … well. Couple would be the only word that would work… but it was surprisingly without bumps. They were around each other twenty four seven either way, and it wasn’t like they really could do much more when it came to PDA (well. David was handsy, at least, Archie was still pretty hands off) and so it just was. They would wake up, make out for a while, get dressed, go down stairs for breakfast and practice and/or game day and then stumble home usually pretty late and collapse into one bed rather than two.
David was sure it couldn’t get any better than that. Get paid to do what you love and end the day happy and exhausted? Hell, yeah.
There was a part of him waiting for the other shoe to drop, sometimes. But he was pretty good at ignoring that part of him, and as one week fell to another and another the other shoe stayed metaphorically out of sight. If anything (and he wouldn’t say it out loud, ever or he would be petrified he would jinx it) things actually got better over time. They played better, together, after day in and out of being together. Sometimes he would think something and he was sure Archie corrected without really anything said between them. It was awesome.
“I don’t know what you two are doing,” Coach Cowell said, his eyes slit slightly as if in accusation. “But don’t stop now.”
*
They were on a road trip, in Reno of all places, and he was starting. He made it through the first four innings with really little trouble but the top of the fifth came around and suddenly he realized. He had done four and a half innings without one guy getting on base.
Four and a half innings… half a game. And just like that, his mojo was completely shot, just like every time before, and he was screwed.
The next guy up ended walking in five pitches and he threw another two to the guy at the top of the order, and he felt the familiar desire to walk away. Archie lifted one hand and walked calmly out to the mound, his mask off and onto the top of his head.
“You good?” he asked, his hand suddenly on his lower back. “Hey, you got me? You’re fine, you’re good. Relax.”
David exhaled, focused on the dirt just in front of the mound and then forced himself to look back up. Archie wasn’t smiling, not quite, but his face was relaxed and opened, not an ounce of worry or concern and he felt the knot in the center of his back relax infinitesimally. He nodded, swallowed and licked his fingertips to try the grip again and then nodded again. “Yeah. Got this. I got this.”
The ump was just making his way, albeit slowly, to the mound when Archie turned around and jogged back towards him. David indicated that he was all good to the pitching coach and turned around again. He did his best to ignore where the man stood on first base, looking just a little bit full of himself and even more self assured, and instead focused again just a few feet ahead of him at the strip of dirt that lead from where he was straight down to where Archie squatted in front of him.
He couldn’t see his face, but he could picture the look on it. Focused, ready. He got this. They had it. Right then.
After that, it was game on.
*
Less than an hour later found him in the center of a storm. He had pitched, ultimately, four more innings without letting on one more guy. In fact, after the next at bat the smug face on the pitcher was erased by a pathetically easy double play and then two runs bat in during the bottom half. It was… it was like the moment on the mound didn’t happen, like the entire last three years of his career had been wiped clean with the flash of relaxed smile and easy nod of Archie’s head.
Hands kept patting his back, people kept asking him questions and oddly he kept getting a niggling sense of annoyance about the whole thing. He had tried his best to enjoy it, had for a while… but it quickly dissolved into him having to grin and bear it and that just felt silly. This was supposed to be his moment, a mile marker and yet… nothing.
“Alright boys, break it up!” Johns’ voice came through the rumble, his hand landing on David’s shoulder. “I don’t know about all of you, but I think it’s time we get this boy out and give him some flu like symptoms!”
Normally this would be the point where David would laugh and make a crack at Johns’ expense. (Probably something about the three Sundays in a row that he had missed the season before because of Johns’ pursuit of flu like systems and what the coach had to say about that.) But instead he shrugged and got half of a protest out of his mouth before Johns shook his head.
“Oh no, Cookie dear,” he put his hand over David’s mouth. “You are going out with us tonight, whether you like it or not. You pitched a no hitter, don’t even try it.”
There were few things you could wriggle out of when it came to Michael Johns, and drinking wasn’t one of them. He forced a smile. “Lead the way, but you’re the one who’s got to play tomorrow. Remember that.”
Something in the devious glint in his friend’s eyes told him that didn’t seem to mean much to him.
*
He had just finished toweling off in the shower when he realized just what about the situation was making him feel uncomfortable. He turned to say something to Archie and realized that Archie wasn’t there… which, in the two months he had been working with him, had yet to occur. It was weird to think that it had only been two months, especially when realizing that his absence made him feel like he had a phantom limb.
“Where’s Archie?” David asked when Johns came up and jerked his head to indicate it was time to go. “Is he still doing autographs?”
Johns shook his head and gave a devious grin, “He went back to the hotel… he’s still a few seasons off from getting to come with on these trips. Now let’s get on with it, there are bars to see and drinks to imbibe.”
The thought of at least attempting to turn him down was ridiculous and he knew it, so David followed behind. Just a few drinks maybe, wait till the guys were too gone to realize who was there and what they celebrating.
Hours later, David stumbled into his hotel room with an embarrassing lack of grace. Somewhere he knew he had to at least try and keep it quiet, no doubt Archie was fast asleep by that point and it wasn't fair of him to wake him up. Knowing that, though, and actually being quiet turned out to be far easier said than done and by the time he made it the few feet to his bed he had a pair of arms wrapped around him.
"'m sorry," he slurred, and then laughed at the weird sound of his voice. "You're taller than I remember... Did you grow while I was gone?"
Archie let out a puff of air and dropped him back on the bed. "No, you’re just hunched over."
David fell back onto his back and closed his eyes tight in hopes that the room would stop tilting from side to side. "You sure?"
"I'm sure," he said distractedly while taking off David's shoes and socks. "Did you have fun?"
David nodded, but regretted that when it just renewed his sense of vertigo. "I wish you had been there. It was weird not having you close by... I like you being there. You keep me out of trouble."
“Were you… did you get in much trouble while you were gone?” Archie’s voice was quiet and had a tinge of sad that caught David off guard.
“Not trouble, just…” he lost his train of thought and closed his eyes, giving in entirely to the tug of sleep at the back of his brain.
*
When he walked in the locker room to see the look of misery on half of his teammates shouldn’t be such a comfort, but it is. Archie hadn’t seemed susceptible to pity when he had woken up with one hell of a hang over (He had also, apparently, slept in another bed and David wasn’t going to even think about that for too long).
“Cook,” Ryan said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Coach would like to see you in the office. “
The entire room, which was buzzing with noise a moment before, went dead silent. There was something in his stomach he hadn’t felt since high school, called to the Principal’s office with no idea what he had done wrong… All eyes trained on David as he walked across the locker room and into small hallway that lead to the Skipper’s temporary office.
Just as the door shut behind him he heard a catcall from what he thought was Johns, and he wanted to turn around and glare on principal. Stupid Johns and his stupid flu-like symptoms, which was what this had to be. He rubbed his slightly sweaty palms onto the tops of his jeans and knocked on the frame when he reached the open door.
“Um, Coach Cowell?”
Simon looked up from a stack of papers and frowned, like he needed to remember just whom David was. When it clicked though he half stood and waved a hand.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Cook. I’ve been waiting for you.”
*
By the time he stepped out of the office ten minutes later and back into the locker room he really hadn't had the chance to process what had been said. He wondered, briefly, if this was still a dream laced with alcohol and if he was going to wake up and find that he had to go through the hang over all over again.
Jason saw him first, did a double take before he talked, "Hey Cook, you okay, man? How much trouble did you get into? Did you try and blame Johns? You know that Cowell would agree if you said it was his fault."
David shook his head, and he didn't notice that he kept walking forward. Johns saw him next, but didn't think twice at the look on his face.
"I blame you entirely for that last Aftershock," Johns chided. "My head is pounding."
"Cook," Archie's voice finally forced him to catch up with the conversation and he turned towards his concerned face. "Everything okay?"
David nodded, “DiNardo pulled a muscle in his elbow. I ... I just got called up."
The people in his immediate surroundings turned to him and it became quiet and maybe a little awkward. Johns smacked a hand on his back and the noise it brought sounded a lot louder in the silence. "You got called up? CALLED UP? Damn straight!"
Just like when other players had gone from their team, it became a mad house of cheers and jeers. Jason pulled him in for a quick man hug/back slap, Johns took him in for a hug and then pulled him into a headlock. He got high fives and hugs and it was just about then when he realized it was actually real and the numb feeling dropped off into something more like excitement. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest and he started to laugh at just how ridiculous it was.
He lost track of who was who in the grand scheme of arms and good will, but then he was pushed towards Archie, who was just about as prepared for the hug as David was. It was a little stupid when he thought about it, but the sudden contact of Archie's body to his made him feel exposed and maybe a little like his chest ached. It wasn't like they hadn't done much more but it was oddly intimate to just have his arms around him and to feel Archie's hands on his back.
It probably went a little too long but when they pulled back most of his teammates seemed to have missed that entirely. Archie's face was a little flushed and David was too distracted by it to realize he was probably no better off. He stared slack jawed for a moment.
"That’s awesome,” Archie said earnestly, even if his smile seemed a little forced. “Congratulations.”
Jason had stepped back into his peripheral vision, “Wait, when you do leave?”
“Now,” David said, and it sounded just as weird from his mouth as it had from Cowell’s mouth a minute before. “I’m meeting them in New York. They need me to pitch tomorrow.”
After years of wanting to be called up, of watching his teammates going up and having the career he dreamed about, he wasn't entirely sure why it felt so hollow. They were already on the road, his duffell packed for the two weeks that he thought he would be gone. He wondered when he would get a chance to get back to him apartment and get the rest of his stuff, if he should even bother. His friends were all standing there, even when they should have gone out and started warming up and irrationally he had the sudden desire not to go at all.
"Just remember us in your Cy Young speech," Johns broke the tense silence. "Us little people you stepped on on your way to the top."
David rolled his eyes, "I don't think they ask for a speech for Cy Young, Johns."
"Blake is on the Yankees now," Jason offered, "Find him and he can drop some knowledge on you."
"Not going to happen," he shook his head, "I don't want him to bust out Jimmie Walker Blue.”
Johns and Jason simultaneously shuddered.
Archie, who had been standing off to the side, shifted from one foot to the other and then looked at him, "Good luck."
"Thanks Arch," David pulled him in for a tight hug. The uncomfortable churn of his stomach felt less and less related to his hang over and more related to something else.
A terse cough behind him made him realize that Ryan stood there, tapping a toe and looking annoyed. He broke the hug hesitantly but avoided looking Archie in the eye and looked at the rest of the group instead.
“Guess that’s my cue.”
*
The initial rush of excitement at being called up wore off somewhere across the middle of the country. The five-hour flight from Texas to New York seemed to stretch infinitely in front of him and where as in the past he would have just listened to music or caught some sleep neither seemed to be a possibility. It felt almost like his skin was shrinking, he was taught and yet twitchy, unable to keep his brain focused long enough on the baseline through his headphones or on his laptops screen where he had downloaded videos of the Yankee’s last game to see what he was up against.
What he was up against was the fucking Yankees. Not even a weak team to start off with, he is put directly in the line of fire. It just wasn’t fair. It was like playing your first real gig at the Met, it was totally out of order and weird and it just didn’t feel right at all.
A team representative met him at the airport and didn’t help the matter at all. He was nice enough, tall and bald with tattoos and a huge relaxed smile. He stuck his hand out and introduced himself as Chris Daughtry (“Call me Chris”) and he almost looked familiar, like maybe he had been a player before but he couldn’t quite place him. Maybe it was just that he reminded David of someone he would want to hang out with. That was true, until the second they got into the taxi and he went from friendly to business in a flash.
“Here’s the deal,” Chris started, eyes going over a checklist. “We have to get you warmed up and ready for tomorrows game. We don’t have much time today we are going to get you at warm ups just before the game started and we don’t want to overwork you. That being said, I’ve been catching up on your tapes and you’ve got talent.”
David tried for a confident nod but felt it fall flat and shrugged, hoping he hadn’t caught Archie’s tendency to blush, “Thanks?”
“Bob is warming Bannister up, so you can just go down there and meet him then,” Chris said, handing him a sheet and a pass without looking up. “I’m going to need your number so I can get you a jersey. I assume you want to keep your number from the minors?”
“Yes.”
Chris made another check and looked out the window of the cab, “You already have a little magic in you, this is the lightest I’ve see the traffic since we got here.”
Not sure if Chris was joking, as the road around him seemed cluttered with not only cars but people, David didn’t reply and instead looked down to the paper work he was going to have to fill out that night.
*
When he woke the next morning and Archie wasn’t right next to him he felt a weird sensation of loss. Even taking in to consideration the few times they fought or the one weekend long jag where David’s parents had been in town, they rarely woke up without each other. He felt like he hadn’t gotten the right kind of sleep in days, which was probably not a good thing considering he was going to be starting today.
He had spent the night before watching the game like it was his very first baseball game. He didn’t talk with the other players even though he knew he should, he was far too into the play of the game. The dugout didn’t give him the greatest view, and he knew there was a video feed he could be watching but none of that mattered. He focused on the way Bannister stood, watched as each player came up and either made contact with the bat or not. He nervously repeated names and numbers in his head and itched to call someone (his mother? Andy? Archie?) for distraction.
He had had a good warm up session the day before, and his arm didn’t feel tense or even sore. He knew he had a good game in him, that he was just psyching himself out but logic really didn’t have much of help in that moment.
Going through the motions of his morning routine was a comfort but everything felt just off enough, almost like he was in an alternate universe. He had to give it to the Majors the hotel room he was in was definitely three steps up from what he was used to. The team bus was down where he had been dropped off and the varying players he had met yesterday took it upon themselves to introduce him to whoever he hadn’t gotten a chance to meet face to face as of yet.
“You ready?” John Buck asked with a Cheshire cat smile.
David nodded, even if he was sure he was lying.
*
The good thing is when he gets to the mound it feels almost the same. As long as he didn’t look to the stands (packed, there was probably the entire year’s attendance for the Omaha Royals in the stands at the moment) he could trick himself into believing this was just like any other start. He licked his fingers and wet the ball closed his eyes.
John Buck signaled for a fastball and he shook it off. He signaled for it again, a little more deliberate and David shook it off again. There was a pause and he gave him the signal for a curve ball and he nodded more in fear of incurring some sort of newbie wrath rather than comfort in the pitch.
The ball curved perfect, making it just into the strike zone and making the batter swing.
Strike one.
He exhaled. This was okay and he could do this.
It was the usual ebb and flow of a game, he let a few on base and there was one run in the bottom of the third but it wasn’t that big of a deal really. He was doing well.
When Alex Rodriguez stepped up to bat in the beginning of the fifth inning David was still fairly confident. The Yankees were formidable, definitely, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought it was going to be. But there was someone on second and A-Rod had this glint in his eyes and suddenly David forgot the other five innings. His heart was beating way too fast in his chest and his palms were sweating.
He looked at John who was signaling a knuckle ball, he was good with that. He was better than good with that, that was his pitch. He blinked and rubbed the sweat out of his eyes with his left forearm before he planted his foot and threw.
Ball one.
Something in his stomach lurched and he swallowed around a dry mouth. This hadn’t happened to him in weeks. He put his head down to focus on the seam of the ball, inhaled and exhaled and then looked back up. He got the signal for another knuckleball and tried again, throwing this time just a fraction of a second later than the last and hoping for the best.
When he heard the crack of the bat he knew without having to watch that the ball was gone. The cheers of the crowd confirmed it was a home run.
Fuck, he thought.
When he got pulled the next inning it was too an embarrassing round of cheers from Yankees fans. The score was at 7 to 1 and it was his fault entirely. The pitching coach walked him down to get stretched and iced but he knew whatever talking to he might get was nothing compared to the mental lashing he was giving himself. His first game in the majors and he let in seven runs, which was just plain embarrassing.
*
When he got back to his room later on he already had eight missed calls. His mom, naturally, who had tried her best but there was just no way she was going to be able to make it on such short notice. It was obvious the call was before the game as she kept saying how excited she was, how proud she was. He saved it even if the idea of listening to it again wasn’t entirely pleasant. Andy called, and the lack of teasing in his voice told him that it had been after he walked off the field, he just erased that one in the middle of it.
Archie hadn’t left a message but rather just called in half hour intervals like he was waiting for the moment that David would be there to pick it up. He hit send and only had to hear one ring before Archie picked it up.
“Hey,” Archie said in a breathy way, like he had run to get to the phone. “Are you okay?”
David almost laughed but stopped himself. Archie was just being concerned, he was being Archie. David sighed and pinched his nose. “It didn’t go ideally I guess.”
“It was your first game,” Archie said. “And Buck just wasn’t … he didn’t…”
He recognized that stutter and smiled despite himself, “Archie, are you about to insult someone?”
“He should have gone out in the fifth!” Archie said, so annoyed and indignant that David could feel his chest ache. “You just needed a second and he kept calling for pitches even when you said no, and that is just… just…”
“His job?”
Archie gave a frustrated sigh, “No, it isn’t. His job is to make sure you are okay.”
Something felt like it lifted off of his shoulders and the way Archie was so determinedly upset. “Thanks for defending my honor.”
There was a long silence in which David thought of all the things he probably should say but knocked them down one by one. (“I miss you.” Being high on the list.) Then he thought of the things he probably shouldn’t say and shot them down as well. (“What if I am not meant to be in the majors?”)
Finally he sighed and went to a different topic. “How were the fireworks tonight?”
“I didn’t go,” Archie practically whispered and David was pretty sure that meant that he missed him too.
*
It shouldn’t be a relief when, after one more lackluster start and the return of DiNardo, he got that call that he was going back down, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was. He went back to the locker that still had his name written on sticky tape above it and grabbed at the few personal possessions he had in it and shoved them carelessly into his duffel bag.
He made it out of the locker room without being seen and was almost home free when he heard his name get called. He turned to find Chris as he jogged the last twenty or so feet to bridge the gap between them. David restlessly played with the strap of his bag and tried not to look as anxious as he was feeling.
“Hey,” Chris started. “Heard you got sent back down.”
David rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah, better luck next time, right?”
“I guess,” he hesitated. “Listen, man… I got to say. I think you got it… actually I know you have it, you just need to find your focus. When you do? You’ll be unstoppable.”
He nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say to that… if he should take it as a compliment or not. A part of him was offended, the guy wasn’t that much older than he was, and he wasn’t really looking for advice in the parking lot of Kauffman stadium. But Chris was looking at him with genuine sincerity, and he knew he couldn’t take it as anything other than the help he thought it had been.
“Thanks,” he offered his hand out and they shook. Chris pulled him in for an awkward one shoulder back slap and David had to hold back a laugh. “See you?”
“See you soon,” he nodded.
*
They had left while on the road, which made walking into the locker room just a bit unreal. He put his bag down in front of his locker and inhaled the familiar scent. For a second he could probably convince himself that the last three weeks had been some weird fever dream, but maybe that was just a bit too maudlin even for him.
Someone, he assumed from the front office, had put a clean jersey on a hanger and he grabbed it. He hadn’t seen anyone yet, there was still about an hour before the pitchers call time so it was far too early. He had thought about going back to his apartment before but he hadn’t actually wanted to go. Instead his car made it’s way back with little thought on his behalf.
He slipped the jersey on and buttoned it up before he let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He took a few steps back before he sat down on the bench with a loud thump. His elbows on his knees, he rubbed both palms into his closed eyes.
“Cook?”
He jerked back. Archie stood at the end of the aisle, looking achingly similar to the first day he had met him, anxious and shy and oh so young. It hadn’t been that long since the phone call, not even a full week, but it had been the longest stretch of time where they hadn’t talked since they had met, and he hadn’t known just how wrong that felt until it had been righted.
He pushed himself up and had his arms around Archie in a matter of maybe six steps. Archie was stiff for all of a split second before he relaxed, his face in the crook of David’s neck and his breath warm against his chin.
“You’re back,” Archie said, and exhaled a weird half laugh.
He nodded, gave one last tight squeeze before he pulled back. “Miss me?”
“Yes.”
David had mostly thought of it as a joke but couldn’t help the smile that the conviction of Archie’s tone gave him. He pulled him in for another hug, this time with his face in Archie’s neck. “Good, ‘cause I missed you.”
The look Archie gave him as he pulled back was some mixture of sad and … eager that David hadn’t seen before. If they were anywhere else David would do something about it, but somehow that didn’t seem to be as big of a deal as he might have thought.
They stood for a minute or so, far too close for locker room etiquette but that didn’t matter. The room was empty, blessedly so, but that realization made him think, “Wait, how’d you know I was here?”
“Coach Cowell called me in,” Archie said, his eyebrows knit together. “Why?”
With a quick look at the locker room to make sure it was still empty David leaned his forehead forward and placed it in the crook of Archie’s neck for a half a second before he pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’ve gotta say something.”
“Yeah?”
He let out a breath, “I’m going to mess this up. A lot.”
Archie blinked rapidly at the admission, then leveled a look that seemed to be making sure that this wasn’t some kind of joke. “… you are?”
“Yeah,” David admitted, his eyes darted down to the floor to make sure he was thinking this through and then back up. “You’re going to have to forgive me for that in advance.”
Archie nodded and David hoped that he was getting just how much he wasn’t saying.
“It didn’t feel right.”
“What didn’t?”
David frowned, “Any of it, I couldn’t get my arm to relax, Buck kept calling for things I wasn’t ready for and he didn’t know when to let me breath. Even when I asked for him to he just… he wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. You weren’t there and I need you.”
“Come on, Cook,” Archie frowned. “Don’t say that.”
He shrugged, really it didn’t matter if Archie believed him. It was true, all the way. He hadn’t known it himself, not until he actually said it. He was okay with needing to prove it to him over time.
“If it isn’t the prodigal son,” Coach Cowell said, and both turned to see him walking along the aisle with his familiar sardonic smile. “Glad to see you both here, we’re going to need you to warm up. Castro is having a bit of a trouble with his arm, and seeing as you are back I want to take advantage and give him a break. You game?”
David nodded, “Yeah, of course. You good, Archuleta?”
Archie had a smile on his face that offered something David would take advantage of later on. “Let’s go.”
*
“A few weeks ago you got called up and sent back down in barely a week. What exactly do you think makes this call up different than the last one?”
It was a fair question, seeing as his last send down wasn’t on the best of terms but there wasn’t an easy way to explain it.
“Last time there was different expectations of me,” he started, slowly thinking out the way he was going to explain it. “I was replacing someone that the fans already trusted. Being added to the roster on my own merit takes that expectation away.”
He couldn’t help but let his eyes flick to where Archie was seated next to him; so nervous David was pretty sure his knee was vibrating rather than just shaking. When Archie’s eyes met David’s he paused in his nervous energy to flash him an honest to goodness grin.
“You really think that is going to make a difference?”
Archie was coming with this time… that was what was different. He wouldn’t have to fight the nerves and the worry and the uphill battle of trying to actually go somewhere with his profession alone. Instead he would have someone he trusted and who trusted him implicitly… who knew when he needed a moment to collect himself and who had the best chance of talking him back from a breakdown.
(The fact that at the end of the night they went back to their hotel room and fell asleep next to each other was just the frosting on that cupcake.)
With a smile and a shrug he shifted his gaze back to where the reporter’s hand was poised over a note pad. “Don’t know, doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to trust me, just watch.”
ETA: Missing scene (OF AWESOME) written for me by mausi and made him king of all the wild things ♥
*
A few girlfriends or wives showed up but it only ended up being nine people total at John’s place. It was just as well, it was a pretty small condo and from the look on Stacey’s face Johns hadn’t really asked before inviting over a mass of people. (Even if she hid it well, David knew what her thin-lipped smile translated to.)
Archie didn’t know where he was going, and so David had offered to take them. They stopped by a Sonics’ to grab drinks of the non-alcohol variety and by the time they walked in it was already in full swing. The girls had branched off and were talking in the living room, while most of the guys sat on the back porch with beers and even a few cigars.
David smiled encouragingly at Archie and jerked his head to two open chairs up wind of the smoke. They sat down and were barely registered due to what seemed like a pretty heated debate between Jason, Johns and Chikezie.
“Come off it,” Johns said, louder than was needed, “It’s not like you’re going to need her to be talking.”
David was pretty sure he had walked in on the wrong part of this conversation but when it came to this group of guys it was up for debate on where the right part of the conversation would be.
Jason shook his head, gulping at the beer he had been finishing while Johns had ranted, “I don’t care if she’s hot, I’d rather not date a Barbie.”
Chikezie snorted, “Which Barbie would she be? Dominatrix Barbie?”
Johns turned to David and Archie with sudden interest, “Come on, you two can settle the debate.”
“Sure?”
Chikezie put a hand up to shut Johns up, “Let me, you two are biased.”
David didn’t know how to tell Chikezie that there was a good chance the two of them weren’t biased at all, Johns and Jason just loved getting a rise out of each other. “Megan Fox?”
“What about her?” Archie asked with genuine confusion and David bit back a laugh. Before someone had to explain it Archie caught on and went wide-eyed. “The girl from Transformers? … oh... uh. Ew. I mean… NO. No, thank you?”
David snorted a sip of cherry limeade before he gave a choked chuckle, “I’m with Archie.”
Jason gave a celebratory pump of his fist. “Exactly.”
“Figures ,” Johns muttered.
David caught sight of Archie giving him a weird look and he felt something in his stomach warm pleasantly. He was forced to look away when the debate was taken anew, now switched to Rachel McAdams. (Who was unanimously voted hotter than Megan Fox and the bonus of intelligence made her the bar for the rest of the hotness debates for the night.)
David was usually pretty vocal during this part of parties, he knew it was mostly in his head but he always thought that his silence on the subject was all but coming out of the closet. But somehow, with Archie seated and silent beside him, he just didn’t feel like joining in. The guys didn’t notice much, except for when there was a tight enough race that their opinions would count in or against their favor. As the night wore on and the others got more and more drunk though, they were forgotten about entirely.
Content to just watch the debate, David didn’t even notice until past midnight that Archie’s eyes were barely staying open. He felt kind of like a jerk, as he knew he was the one to have the power of the ride home and he knew for a fact Archie would never have asked him to go.
He smiled and faked a loud yawn, which got the attention of Jason who looked amused.
“When’d you get old?” Jason teased, his voice just slightly slurred.
“Your mom just wore me out last night,” David shot back and a (thankfully empty) red cup was chucked at his head. He dodged it and looked at Archie. “Want to get out of here?”
Archie, who had sat up straighter in his seat and forced himself to look more awake, sagged slightly with relief, “Sure.”
*
Archie still lived in the interim housing that players were given when they first moved up. David didn’t have the heart to tell Archie that they called it ‘Limbo-land’ and took bets on just how long people who lived there were going to stay on the team. As he walked through the narrow hallway leading to Archie’s door he remembered his brief time there years back and the weird feeling of being on his own and scared.
“Have you gotten a chance to talk to your family?” he asked, his mouth opened before he could think just how rude that was.
Archie looked a little like a kicked puppy but he gave a vague nod. “I talked to … my mom. She and my sister Claudia were going to try and come up for a game. But… you know. Stuff came up.”
It was obvious how little he wanted to talk about it but with a lack of what to say next came instead a heavy silence between them. When Archie stopped at a door and grabbed in his pockets David figured it was about time to bow out.
“I guess I’ll see you when we get back,” he offered.
Archie swung the door open and turned to him like he hadn’t heard what he just said, “You want to come in?”
"Why not?" David smiled.
Archie's apartment was... for the lack of a better word, sterile. It wasn't meant to be the type of place you stay in for long, which David knew full well, but the only time he had seen a place this devoid of anyone living in it was the day he moved in. The fact that Archie had been there for weeks and it still looked just like he could leave with all his worldly good in five minutes flat made something in David's chest tug fiercely.
"Nice place?" he said, not convincingly, but Archie smiled like he believed him. (Somehow that made it worse.) "Have you gotten a chance to look for longer term?"
He got a shrug, and, despite the poor lighting, a blush as well. "I don't want to jinx it. Who knows where I'm going to be tomorrow?"
"What’re you talking about? You’re an awesome catcher. We're lucky to have you."
Archie looked up at him through his lashes. He stared for a long moment disbelievingly before it was gone, and even though the smile seemed genuine David had no idea how he could get from one look to the other so quickly.
“Do you want something to drink?”
David shrugged, “Whatcha got?”
They had maybe four feet between them and the fridge but rather than actually look in it Archie stared at it like he had x-ray vision. “Water, juice… I used the last of the milk for breakfast this morning… I think I have protein powder?”
“Water’s fine,” David smiled, and patted his stomach. “I’ve been working on my physique for years man, why change now?”
Archie came back out and handed him a cup, sheepishly trying to hide the cartoon character on the bottom of it. David smiled when he turned it around and looked over at Archie’s cup to smile as well.
“I get Sponge Bob but you get Sandy, how is that fair?”
Archie blinked at the cup in his hand and then back at David. “You watch Sponge Bob?”
“I’ve got a niece and nephew,” he said, skirting the fact that Sponge Bob was also kind of fun to watch on his own as well.
Archie looked away, “Yeah. I have younger siblings.”
If he was honest with himself, David would admit that this was the kind of situation alcohol was designed for. Bad for you or not, alcohol served as the social lubricant everyone needed to get them away from ending up on a couch in an apartment talking about their favorite characters from Sponge Bob Squarepants.
It wasn’t like he was a novice when it came to flirting, he actually considered himself to be quite a flirt when he wanted to be. Boys or girls, either way, he had a knack for the seamless flirt that got him free drinks at bars and phone numbers when he wanted them. But he knew, without a doubt, that he had no chance of getting Archie to bite the hook of any line. It was actually kind of petrifying.
After a while, though, he just gave up and began the slow process of inching himself across the couch and closer to where Archie sat seemingly oblivious. Not until there was no space between them, when David’s left thigh pressed against Archie’s right, did Archie seem to notice and he turned so fast that neither had time to stop his elbow from meeting David’s stomach.
“Ooof!”
“Oh my gosh,” Archie called out, already on his feet and flailing wildly. “I’m so sorry. Cook, are you okay? I’m so so so so so sorry.”
Finally able to catch his breath David put a hand up to stop Archie mid freak out. Only a bit breathless he reassured him, “I’m fine, Arch. Shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that, my fault too.”
Archie stood stock-still and looking at him, “Yeah, why did you move across the couch like that?”
David wanted to say something like, If you have to ask maybe I was off my mark. but knew that in this case that was probably not true. Instead he threw out protocol and grabbed out at Archie’s wrist. He pulled gently but seemingly caught Archie off guard and he fell forward onto him.
When their lips met it was smashed and uncomfortable, a mixture of over zealousness on David’s part and forward motion on Archie’s. But then David figured a way to tug Archie around and get him onto the couch with out breaking the kiss for more than a half a second and then they were kissing and much to David’s amazement Archie was kissing back.
The sound of whatever CD Archie had popped in was playing and it was the kind of moment that reminded David of stupid movies but for once he liked that. He put a hand on the couch’s arm and lifted himself up for a second to look.
“Hi,” Archie smiled, a little dazed but bright and happy.
David couldn’t help but laugh a little at how weird it was but leaned back in for another kiss before he thought better of it. Archie didn’t seem to mind.
*
By the time they stopped it was somewhere past three in the morning and Archie had fallen asleep in between one sentence and another. They hadn’t really done much. Actually, David felt more or less like he was in high school again, making out on the couch for hours to a repeating CD of a guy with a guitar and nothing else.
The rational part of him said to wake Archie up and lead him to his bed, to stay and to talk it out but he hadn’t listened to that part of himself in decades. He stood up and snuck out the door, thankful that no one was in the hallway to see him walking out.
*
It was embarrassing to see Archie the first day back, it had only been a few days since he had left Archie’s apartment but the time in between had mostly been spent thinking. By the time he saw Archie walk towards him, head down and looking disturbingly like a puppy, David had thought about everything enough that his brain ached.
A consolation, almost, would be that it looked like Archie had been thinking about it as well. He didn’t look tired, per se, just worn down and his usual morning excitement seemed subdued at best. David knew that the best thing to do would be to breach the subject, address what needed to be and then move on.
That would be the best thing, but it would require him to actually have an idea of what the hell he was doing and that was just not in the cards at all.
He closed his locker with a little more force than necessary and Archie jumped a foot in the air. David took a moment to mentally smack himself around before he turned and looked directly at Archie.
“Hey.”
Archie still looked nervous but his lips twitched upwards, “Hey.”
“We still on for tonight?”
Archie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tonight?”
“It’s Friday,” David said simply, and when Archie smiled he knew that had been the right thing to say.
*
The fireworks that night had the theme of “America”, not that creative and kind of cliché but it was worth it when Archie started to smile even before the first burst had faded from the sky. The game that day had been brutal, a loss for Jason and an embarrassing one at that. But neither of them had played and they had spent the entirety of the game leaned up against the bar watching the action and only slightly pressing up against each other.
It had become their ritual since the first time, every other week there was a fireworks display and every time they went to the special little cove of space that seemed completely forgotten by most. Archie had been the one to bring a quilt, stashed in the bottom of his locker, and they usually ended up having some of their better conversations during the hour-long shows.
They started with talk of the game, faded into a conversation about the upcoming road trip but it felt forced and it only lasted so long before they lapsed into silence. There was the issue that needed to be talked about, but he didn’t want to. In fact, given a list of a thousand things to do it was possibly just above ‘removing own tooth’.
With the beginning of Brooks and Dunn’s ‘Only in America’, David figured he had nothing else to lose. He exhaled the breath he hadn’t noticed himself holding and kept his eyes focused on the flash and then fade of each explosion.
“I guess we should talk about it,” he said. From beside him he heard a non-descript sigh, but he pressed on. “It’s kind of stupid for us to start something. We play for triple-A, and you are going places. Who knows where each of us will be at the end of this season.”
Another pause and then Archie spoke, “What if we’re still here at the end of the season?”
David doubted Archie would be, catchers were in short order especially in the Royals franchise at the moment and Archie really was good at what he did but it wasn’t worth the fight. He shrugged, “Then we’re here.”
“Can we…” Archie started and David finally turned to see him chewing on his bottom lip and looking up at the sky. “Would you mind if we just took it for now then? Enjoy the days as they come?”
Stunned, David nodded when Archie turned to him and then, without thinking, rolled over the last little bit and gave him a slow but chaste kiss. He rolled back over like it hadn’t just happened and watched the rest of the show in dead silence, the only thing different from earlier was his keen awareness of just how close Archie was to him.
When it was over Archie rolled the blanket up and looked at David nervously, “Want to go… um… home?”
“Yeah, I guess we should,” David smiled.
*
The transition from Archie and he as roommates to Archie and he as a … well. Couple would be the only word that would work… but it was surprisingly without bumps. They were around each other twenty four seven either way, and it wasn’t like they really could do much more when it came to PDA (well. David was handsy, at least, Archie was still pretty hands off) and so it just was. They would wake up, make out for a while, get dressed, go down stairs for breakfast and practice and/or game day and then stumble home usually pretty late and collapse into one bed rather than two.
David was sure it couldn’t get any better than that. Get paid to do what you love and end the day happy and exhausted? Hell, yeah.
There was a part of him waiting for the other shoe to drop, sometimes. But he was pretty good at ignoring that part of him, and as one week fell to another and another the other shoe stayed metaphorically out of sight. If anything (and he wouldn’t say it out loud, ever or he would be petrified he would jinx it) things actually got better over time. They played better, together, after day in and out of being together. Sometimes he would think something and he was sure Archie corrected without really anything said between them. It was awesome.
“I don’t know what you two are doing,” Coach Cowell said, his eyes slit slightly as if in accusation. “But don’t stop now.”
*
They were on a road trip, in Reno of all places, and he was starting. He made it through the first four innings with really little trouble but the top of the fifth came around and suddenly he realized. He had done four and a half innings without one guy getting on base.
Four and a half innings… half a game. And just like that, his mojo was completely shot, just like every time before, and he was screwed.
The next guy up ended walking in five pitches and he threw another two to the guy at the top of the order, and he felt the familiar desire to walk away. Archie lifted one hand and walked calmly out to the mound, his mask off and onto the top of his head.
“You good?” he asked, his hand suddenly on his lower back. “Hey, you got me? You’re fine, you’re good. Relax.”
David exhaled, focused on the dirt just in front of the mound and then forced himself to look back up. Archie wasn’t smiling, not quite, but his face was relaxed and opened, not an ounce of worry or concern and he felt the knot in the center of his back relax infinitesimally. He nodded, swallowed and licked his fingertips to try the grip again and then nodded again. “Yeah. Got this. I got this.”
The ump was just making his way, albeit slowly, to the mound when Archie turned around and jogged back towards him. David indicated that he was all good to the pitching coach and turned around again. He did his best to ignore where the man stood on first base, looking just a little bit full of himself and even more self assured, and instead focused again just a few feet ahead of him at the strip of dirt that lead from where he was straight down to where Archie squatted in front of him.
He couldn’t see his face, but he could picture the look on it. Focused, ready. He got this. They had it. Right then.
After that, it was game on.
*
Less than an hour later found him in the center of a storm. He had pitched, ultimately, four more innings without letting on one more guy. In fact, after the next at bat the smug face on the pitcher was erased by a pathetically easy double play and then two runs bat in during the bottom half. It was… it was like the moment on the mound didn’t happen, like the entire last three years of his career had been wiped clean with the flash of relaxed smile and easy nod of Archie’s head.
Hands kept patting his back, people kept asking him questions and oddly he kept getting a niggling sense of annoyance about the whole thing. He had tried his best to enjoy it, had for a while… but it quickly dissolved into him having to grin and bear it and that just felt silly. This was supposed to be his moment, a mile marker and yet… nothing.
“Alright boys, break it up!” Johns’ voice came through the rumble, his hand landing on David’s shoulder. “I don’t know about all of you, but I think it’s time we get this boy out and give him some flu like symptoms!”
Normally this would be the point where David would laugh and make a crack at Johns’ expense. (Probably something about the three Sundays in a row that he had missed the season before because of Johns’ pursuit of flu like systems and what the coach had to say about that.) But instead he shrugged and got half of a protest out of his mouth before Johns shook his head.
“Oh no, Cookie dear,” he put his hand over David’s mouth. “You are going out with us tonight, whether you like it or not. You pitched a no hitter, don’t even try it.”
There were few things you could wriggle out of when it came to Michael Johns, and drinking wasn’t one of them. He forced a smile. “Lead the way, but you’re the one who’s got to play tomorrow. Remember that.”
Something in the devious glint in his friend’s eyes told him that didn’t seem to mean much to him.
*
He had just finished toweling off in the shower when he realized just what about the situation was making him feel uncomfortable. He turned to say something to Archie and realized that Archie wasn’t there… which, in the two months he had been working with him, had yet to occur. It was weird to think that it had only been two months, especially when realizing that his absence made him feel like he had a phantom limb.
“Where’s Archie?” David asked when Johns came up and jerked his head to indicate it was time to go. “Is he still doing autographs?”
Johns shook his head and gave a devious grin, “He went back to the hotel… he’s still a few seasons off from getting to come with on these trips. Now let’s get on with it, there are bars to see and drinks to imbibe.”
The thought of at least attempting to turn him down was ridiculous and he knew it, so David followed behind. Just a few drinks maybe, wait till the guys were too gone to realize who was there and what they celebrating.
Hours later, David stumbled into his hotel room with an embarrassing lack of grace. Somewhere he knew he had to at least try and keep it quiet, no doubt Archie was fast asleep by that point and it wasn't fair of him to wake him up. Knowing that, though, and actually being quiet turned out to be far easier said than done and by the time he made it the few feet to his bed he had a pair of arms wrapped around him.
"'m sorry," he slurred, and then laughed at the weird sound of his voice. "You're taller than I remember... Did you grow while I was gone?"
Archie let out a puff of air and dropped him back on the bed. "No, you’re just hunched over."
David fell back onto his back and closed his eyes tight in hopes that the room would stop tilting from side to side. "You sure?"
"I'm sure," he said distractedly while taking off David's shoes and socks. "Did you have fun?"
David nodded, but regretted that when it just renewed his sense of vertigo. "I wish you had been there. It was weird not having you close by... I like you being there. You keep me out of trouble."
“Were you… did you get in much trouble while you were gone?” Archie’s voice was quiet and had a tinge of sad that caught David off guard.
“Not trouble, just…” he lost his train of thought and closed his eyes, giving in entirely to the tug of sleep at the back of his brain.
*
When he walked in the locker room to see the look of misery on half of his teammates shouldn’t be such a comfort, but it is. Archie hadn’t seemed susceptible to pity when he had woken up with one hell of a hang over (He had also, apparently, slept in another bed and David wasn’t going to even think about that for too long).
“Cook,” Ryan said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Coach would like to see you in the office. “
The entire room, which was buzzing with noise a moment before, went dead silent. There was something in his stomach he hadn’t felt since high school, called to the Principal’s office with no idea what he had done wrong… All eyes trained on David as he walked across the locker room and into small hallway that lead to the Skipper’s temporary office.
Just as the door shut behind him he heard a catcall from what he thought was Johns, and he wanted to turn around and glare on principal. Stupid Johns and his stupid flu-like symptoms, which was what this had to be. He rubbed his slightly sweaty palms onto the tops of his jeans and knocked on the frame when he reached the open door.
“Um, Coach Cowell?”
Simon looked up from a stack of papers and frowned, like he needed to remember just whom David was. When it clicked though he half stood and waved a hand.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Cook. I’ve been waiting for you.”
*
By the time he stepped out of the office ten minutes later and back into the locker room he really hadn't had the chance to process what had been said. He wondered, briefly, if this was still a dream laced with alcohol and if he was going to wake up and find that he had to go through the hang over all over again.
Jason saw him first, did a double take before he talked, "Hey Cook, you okay, man? How much trouble did you get into? Did you try and blame Johns? You know that Cowell would agree if you said it was his fault."
David shook his head, and he didn't notice that he kept walking forward. Johns saw him next, but didn't think twice at the look on his face.
"I blame you entirely for that last Aftershock," Johns chided. "My head is pounding."
"Cook," Archie's voice finally forced him to catch up with the conversation and he turned towards his concerned face. "Everything okay?"
David nodded, “DiNardo pulled a muscle in his elbow. I ... I just got called up."
The people in his immediate surroundings turned to him and it became quiet and maybe a little awkward. Johns smacked a hand on his back and the noise it brought sounded a lot louder in the silence. "You got called up? CALLED UP? Damn straight!"
Just like when other players had gone from their team, it became a mad house of cheers and jeers. Jason pulled him in for a quick man hug/back slap, Johns took him in for a hug and then pulled him into a headlock. He got high fives and hugs and it was just about then when he realized it was actually real and the numb feeling dropped off into something more like excitement. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest and he started to laugh at just how ridiculous it was.
He lost track of who was who in the grand scheme of arms and good will, but then he was pushed towards Archie, who was just about as prepared for the hug as David was. It was a little stupid when he thought about it, but the sudden contact of Archie's body to his made him feel exposed and maybe a little like his chest ached. It wasn't like they hadn't done much more but it was oddly intimate to just have his arms around him and to feel Archie's hands on his back.
It probably went a little too long but when they pulled back most of his teammates seemed to have missed that entirely. Archie's face was a little flushed and David was too distracted by it to realize he was probably no better off. He stared slack jawed for a moment.
"That’s awesome,” Archie said earnestly, even if his smile seemed a little forced. “Congratulations.”
Jason had stepped back into his peripheral vision, “Wait, when you do leave?”
“Now,” David said, and it sounded just as weird from his mouth as it had from Cowell’s mouth a minute before. “I’m meeting them in New York. They need me to pitch tomorrow.”
After years of wanting to be called up, of watching his teammates going up and having the career he dreamed about, he wasn't entirely sure why it felt so hollow. They were already on the road, his duffell packed for the two weeks that he thought he would be gone. He wondered when he would get a chance to get back to him apartment and get the rest of his stuff, if he should even bother. His friends were all standing there, even when they should have gone out and started warming up and irrationally he had the sudden desire not to go at all.
"Just remember us in your Cy Young speech," Johns broke the tense silence. "Us little people you stepped on on your way to the top."
David rolled his eyes, "I don't think they ask for a speech for Cy Young, Johns."
"Blake is on the Yankees now," Jason offered, "Find him and he can drop some knowledge on you."
"Not going to happen," he shook his head, "I don't want him to bust out Jimmie Walker Blue.”
Johns and Jason simultaneously shuddered.
Archie, who had been standing off to the side, shifted from one foot to the other and then looked at him, "Good luck."
"Thanks Arch," David pulled him in for a tight hug. The uncomfortable churn of his stomach felt less and less related to his hang over and more related to something else.
A terse cough behind him made him realize that Ryan stood there, tapping a toe and looking annoyed. He broke the hug hesitantly but avoided looking Archie in the eye and looked at the rest of the group instead.
“Guess that’s my cue.”
*
The initial rush of excitement at being called up wore off somewhere across the middle of the country. The five-hour flight from Texas to New York seemed to stretch infinitely in front of him and where as in the past he would have just listened to music or caught some sleep neither seemed to be a possibility. It felt almost like his skin was shrinking, he was taught and yet twitchy, unable to keep his brain focused long enough on the baseline through his headphones or on his laptops screen where he had downloaded videos of the Yankee’s last game to see what he was up against.
What he was up against was the fucking Yankees. Not even a weak team to start off with, he is put directly in the line of fire. It just wasn’t fair. It was like playing your first real gig at the Met, it was totally out of order and weird and it just didn’t feel right at all.
A team representative met him at the airport and didn’t help the matter at all. He was nice enough, tall and bald with tattoos and a huge relaxed smile. He stuck his hand out and introduced himself as Chris Daughtry (“Call me Chris”) and he almost looked familiar, like maybe he had been a player before but he couldn’t quite place him. Maybe it was just that he reminded David of someone he would want to hang out with. That was true, until the second they got into the taxi and he went from friendly to business in a flash.
“Here’s the deal,” Chris started, eyes going over a checklist. “We have to get you warmed up and ready for tomorrows game. We don’t have much time today we are going to get you at warm ups just before the game started and we don’t want to overwork you. That being said, I’ve been catching up on your tapes and you’ve got talent.”
David tried for a confident nod but felt it fall flat and shrugged, hoping he hadn’t caught Archie’s tendency to blush, “Thanks?”
“Bob is warming Bannister up, so you can just go down there and meet him then,” Chris said, handing him a sheet and a pass without looking up. “I’m going to need your number so I can get you a jersey. I assume you want to keep your number from the minors?”
“Yes.”
Chris made another check and looked out the window of the cab, “You already have a little magic in you, this is the lightest I’ve see the traffic since we got here.”
Not sure if Chris was joking, as the road around him seemed cluttered with not only cars but people, David didn’t reply and instead looked down to the paper work he was going to have to fill out that night.
*
When he woke the next morning and Archie wasn’t right next to him he felt a weird sensation of loss. Even taking in to consideration the few times they fought or the one weekend long jag where David’s parents had been in town, they rarely woke up without each other. He felt like he hadn’t gotten the right kind of sleep in days, which was probably not a good thing considering he was going to be starting today.
He had spent the night before watching the game like it was his very first baseball game. He didn’t talk with the other players even though he knew he should, he was far too into the play of the game. The dugout didn’t give him the greatest view, and he knew there was a video feed he could be watching but none of that mattered. He focused on the way Bannister stood, watched as each player came up and either made contact with the bat or not. He nervously repeated names and numbers in his head and itched to call someone (his mother? Andy? Archie?) for distraction.
He had had a good warm up session the day before, and his arm didn’t feel tense or even sore. He knew he had a good game in him, that he was just psyching himself out but logic really didn’t have much of help in that moment.
Going through the motions of his morning routine was a comfort but everything felt just off enough, almost like he was in an alternate universe. He had to give it to the Majors the hotel room he was in was definitely three steps up from what he was used to. The team bus was down where he had been dropped off and the varying players he had met yesterday took it upon themselves to introduce him to whoever he hadn’t gotten a chance to meet face to face as of yet.
“You ready?” John Buck asked with a Cheshire cat smile.
David nodded, even if he was sure he was lying.
*
The good thing is when he gets to the mound it feels almost the same. As long as he didn’t look to the stands (packed, there was probably the entire year’s attendance for the Omaha Royals in the stands at the moment) he could trick himself into believing this was just like any other start. He licked his fingers and wet the ball closed his eyes.
John Buck signaled for a fastball and he shook it off. He signaled for it again, a little more deliberate and David shook it off again. There was a pause and he gave him the signal for a curve ball and he nodded more in fear of incurring some sort of newbie wrath rather than comfort in the pitch.
The ball curved perfect, making it just into the strike zone and making the batter swing.
Strike one.
He exhaled. This was okay and he could do this.
It was the usual ebb and flow of a game, he let a few on base and there was one run in the bottom of the third but it wasn’t that big of a deal really. He was doing well.
When Alex Rodriguez stepped up to bat in the beginning of the fifth inning David was still fairly confident. The Yankees were formidable, definitely, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought it was going to be. But there was someone on second and A-Rod had this glint in his eyes and suddenly David forgot the other five innings. His heart was beating way too fast in his chest and his palms were sweating.
He looked at John who was signaling a knuckle ball, he was good with that. He was better than good with that, that was his pitch. He blinked and rubbed the sweat out of his eyes with his left forearm before he planted his foot and threw.
Ball one.
Something in his stomach lurched and he swallowed around a dry mouth. This hadn’t happened to him in weeks. He put his head down to focus on the seam of the ball, inhaled and exhaled and then looked back up. He got the signal for another knuckleball and tried again, throwing this time just a fraction of a second later than the last and hoping for the best.
When he heard the crack of the bat he knew without having to watch that the ball was gone. The cheers of the crowd confirmed it was a home run.
Fuck, he thought.
When he got pulled the next inning it was too an embarrassing round of cheers from Yankees fans. The score was at 7 to 1 and it was his fault entirely. The pitching coach walked him down to get stretched and iced but he knew whatever talking to he might get was nothing compared to the mental lashing he was giving himself. His first game in the majors and he let in seven runs, which was just plain embarrassing.
*
When he got back to his room later on he already had eight missed calls. His mom, naturally, who had tried her best but there was just no way she was going to be able to make it on such short notice. It was obvious the call was before the game as she kept saying how excited she was, how proud she was. He saved it even if the idea of listening to it again wasn’t entirely pleasant. Andy called, and the lack of teasing in his voice told him that it had been after he walked off the field, he just erased that one in the middle of it.
Archie hadn’t left a message but rather just called in half hour intervals like he was waiting for the moment that David would be there to pick it up. He hit send and only had to hear one ring before Archie picked it up.
“Hey,” Archie said in a breathy way, like he had run to get to the phone. “Are you okay?”
David almost laughed but stopped himself. Archie was just being concerned, he was being Archie. David sighed and pinched his nose. “It didn’t go ideally I guess.”
“It was your first game,” Archie said. “And Buck just wasn’t … he didn’t…”
He recognized that stutter and smiled despite himself, “Archie, are you about to insult someone?”
“He should have gone out in the fifth!” Archie said, so annoyed and indignant that David could feel his chest ache. “You just needed a second and he kept calling for pitches even when you said no, and that is just… just…”
“His job?”
Archie gave a frustrated sigh, “No, it isn’t. His job is to make sure you are okay.”
Something felt like it lifted off of his shoulders and the way Archie was so determinedly upset. “Thanks for defending my honor.”
There was a long silence in which David thought of all the things he probably should say but knocked them down one by one. (“I miss you.” Being high on the list.) Then he thought of the things he probably shouldn’t say and shot them down as well. (“What if I am not meant to be in the majors?”)
Finally he sighed and went to a different topic. “How were the fireworks tonight?”
“I didn’t go,” Archie practically whispered and David was pretty sure that meant that he missed him too.
*
It shouldn’t be a relief when, after one more lackluster start and the return of DiNardo, he got that call that he was going back down, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was. He went back to the locker that still had his name written on sticky tape above it and grabbed at the few personal possessions he had in it and shoved them carelessly into his duffel bag.
He made it out of the locker room without being seen and was almost home free when he heard his name get called. He turned to find Chris as he jogged the last twenty or so feet to bridge the gap between them. David restlessly played with the strap of his bag and tried not to look as anxious as he was feeling.
“Hey,” Chris started. “Heard you got sent back down.”
David rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah, better luck next time, right?”
“I guess,” he hesitated. “Listen, man… I got to say. I think you got it… actually I know you have it, you just need to find your focus. When you do? You’ll be unstoppable.”
He nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say to that… if he should take it as a compliment or not. A part of him was offended, the guy wasn’t that much older than he was, and he wasn’t really looking for advice in the parking lot of Kauffman stadium. But Chris was looking at him with genuine sincerity, and he knew he couldn’t take it as anything other than the help he thought it had been.
“Thanks,” he offered his hand out and they shook. Chris pulled him in for an awkward one shoulder back slap and David had to hold back a laugh. “See you?”
“See you soon,” he nodded.
*
They had left while on the road, which made walking into the locker room just a bit unreal. He put his bag down in front of his locker and inhaled the familiar scent. For a second he could probably convince himself that the last three weeks had been some weird fever dream, but maybe that was just a bit too maudlin even for him.
Someone, he assumed from the front office, had put a clean jersey on a hanger and he grabbed it. He hadn’t seen anyone yet, there was still about an hour before the pitchers call time so it was far too early. He had thought about going back to his apartment before but he hadn’t actually wanted to go. Instead his car made it’s way back with little thought on his behalf.
He slipped the jersey on and buttoned it up before he let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He took a few steps back before he sat down on the bench with a loud thump. His elbows on his knees, he rubbed both palms into his closed eyes.
“Cook?”
He jerked back. Archie stood at the end of the aisle, looking achingly similar to the first day he had met him, anxious and shy and oh so young. It hadn’t been that long since the phone call, not even a full week, but it had been the longest stretch of time where they hadn’t talked since they had met, and he hadn’t known just how wrong that felt until it had been righted.
He pushed himself up and had his arms around Archie in a matter of maybe six steps. Archie was stiff for all of a split second before he relaxed, his face in the crook of David’s neck and his breath warm against his chin.
“You’re back,” Archie said, and exhaled a weird half laugh.
He nodded, gave one last tight squeeze before he pulled back. “Miss me?”
“Yes.”
David had mostly thought of it as a joke but couldn’t help the smile that the conviction of Archie’s tone gave him. He pulled him in for another hug, this time with his face in Archie’s neck. “Good, ‘cause I missed you.”
The look Archie gave him as he pulled back was some mixture of sad and … eager that David hadn’t seen before. If they were anywhere else David would do something about it, but somehow that didn’t seem to be as big of a deal as he might have thought.
They stood for a minute or so, far too close for locker room etiquette but that didn’t matter. The room was empty, blessedly so, but that realization made him think, “Wait, how’d you know I was here?”
“Coach Cowell called me in,” Archie said, his eyebrows knit together. “Why?”
With a quick look at the locker room to make sure it was still empty David leaned his forehead forward and placed it in the crook of Archie’s neck for a half a second before he pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’ve gotta say something.”
“Yeah?”
He let out a breath, “I’m going to mess this up. A lot.”
Archie blinked rapidly at the admission, then leveled a look that seemed to be making sure that this wasn’t some kind of joke. “… you are?”
“Yeah,” David admitted, his eyes darted down to the floor to make sure he was thinking this through and then back up. “You’re going to have to forgive me for that in advance.”
Archie nodded and David hoped that he was getting just how much he wasn’t saying.
“It didn’t feel right.”
“What didn’t?”
David frowned, “Any of it, I couldn’t get my arm to relax, Buck kept calling for things I wasn’t ready for and he didn’t know when to let me breath. Even when I asked for him to he just… he wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. You weren’t there and I need you.”
“Come on, Cook,” Archie frowned. “Don’t say that.”
He shrugged, really it didn’t matter if Archie believed him. It was true, all the way. He hadn’t known it himself, not until he actually said it. He was okay with needing to prove it to him over time.
“If it isn’t the prodigal son,” Coach Cowell said, and both turned to see him walking along the aisle with his familiar sardonic smile. “Glad to see you both here, we’re going to need you to warm up. Castro is having a bit of a trouble with his arm, and seeing as you are back I want to take advantage and give him a break. You game?”
David nodded, “Yeah, of course. You good, Archuleta?”
Archie had a smile on his face that offered something David would take advantage of later on. “Let’s go.”
*
“A few weeks ago you got called up and sent back down in barely a week. What exactly do you think makes this call up different than the last one?”
It was a fair question, seeing as his last send down wasn’t on the best of terms but there wasn’t an easy way to explain it.
“Last time there was different expectations of me,” he started, slowly thinking out the way he was going to explain it. “I was replacing someone that the fans already trusted. Being added to the roster on my own merit takes that expectation away.”
He couldn’t help but let his eyes flick to where Archie was seated next to him; so nervous David was pretty sure his knee was vibrating rather than just shaking. When Archie’s eyes met David’s he paused in his nervous energy to flash him an honest to goodness grin.
“You really think that is going to make a difference?”
Archie was coming with this time… that was what was different. He wouldn’t have to fight the nerves and the worry and the uphill battle of trying to actually go somewhere with his profession alone. Instead he would have someone he trusted and who trusted him implicitly… who knew when he needed a moment to collect himself and who had the best chance of talking him back from a breakdown.
(The fact that at the end of the night they went back to their hotel room and fell asleep next to each other was just the frosting on that cupcake.)
With a smile and a shrug he shifted his gaze back to where the reporter’s hand was poised over a note pad. “Don’t know, doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to trust me, just watch.”
ETA: Missing scene (OF AWESOME) written for me by mausi and made him king of all the wild things ♥