Like Regular Dudes
Title: Like Regular Dudes
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Aaron Rodgers/Matt Flynn UST - YES, IT'S RPS! And as such, it's 150% imagination, I'm pretty sure A-Rod and Flynn aren't, you know...
Rating: PG
Summary: Aaron Rodgers thinks about his friendship - and more - with his backup, Matt Flynn.
Distribution: Please ask me first, otherwise go for it!
Disclaimer: This was written specifically for this person I came across during the Fandom Snowflake Challenge. I don't think it's exactly what she wanted - she had mentioned Aaron and Clay Matthews, but I just can't do that (mostly because my friend Tory is in lurve with Matthews). Also because have you guys seen Matt Flynn lately? (and he looks like Mike Birbiglia and god, I love that man.) Finally, because of THIS:
Yeah, that's pretty much why.
Anyway, I hope this somewhat satisfies!
-----------
Like Regular Dudes
Aaron remembered how it felt to be second, the back up, the bench jockey. In case of emergency, break glass, unwrap QB for freshness. When he got the starting job, he swore to himself that he was going to make damn sure that he treated the other guys with respect. Like regular dudes.
Aaron felt it was important for team morale for the guy who took the snaps during Friday practice to be as important as the guy who suited up every Sunday. He remembered trying to carry on a conversation with the Old Man, only to be ignored, or, worse, talked down to. When it was his turn to be top dog, he wasn’t going to do that.
And so it was that in 2008, when Aaron Rodgers was named starting quarterback for the Green Bay Packers, he asked his rookie backups over to his condo for an evening of frat boy regression and XBOX. Before long it was routine - Thursday night, Madden, the greasiest sausage and mushroom pizza with hot peppers that he could order, and the guys.
Brohm was okay. Aaron didn’t feel one way or another about the guy. Brohm kept to himself in many ways, almost as if he thought he was better than everyone else because of his name recognition, or because he was picked in the second round and guys like Flynn and Finley were picked further down.
Flynn was different, though.
Flynn was open and cheerful and loved to tell stories. He was as different than Brohm as night was to day. He was different than Aaron, too, with his blond hair and farm boy looks. But unlike Brohm, Flynn had a big, open heart, and to Aaron, that was what mattered most. A big, open heart made for a devoted teammate, and Aaron was all about the team.
Soon, Aaron changed the game plan. He could, after all; he was a thinking quarterback. Brohm didn’t make the guest list anymore. Now it was just Aaron and Flynn and dinner and a growler of Titletown’s finest.
Before long, they became friends. Real friends, not just football buddies. The kind of friends who would meet in the off-season to play pool or fish or play 18 holes (Aaron very well, Flynn not too shabby). The kind of friends who would afterwards go to whoever‘s house they had made base camp for the weekend, where Flynn would grill steaks and Aaron would play his guitar.
In 2009, when the Packers cut Brohm, it was just Flynn and Aaron under center. The closeness they shared grew, and Aaron would watch the kid out there practice after practice, his arm strong, his eyes focused, his belief in his teammates shimmering over him like a heat mirage. He’d throw to Donald, he’d throw to Jennings, he’d throw to Jordy, with the kind of wicked heat that the Old Man used to spit.
But he’s not the Old Man, Aaron. He’s your friend.
---
There are things you can’t do in Chico, California. There are things you can’t do in Tyler, Texas. One also shouldn’t do those things in Ashwaubenon, Wisconsin, but Aaron did them, anyway.
He fell for a guy.
Not just any guy, but his second. He fell for the kid, for Matt.
Flynn - and he had to keep calling him Flynn, because if he didn’t he’d go crazy - Flynn made it so damn easy, man. That friendly face, that shit-eating grin, the goofy dances and the bad jokes and the arm around the shoulders at any given time. Soon, Aaron was thinking up reasons to spend more time with him, have him over to the house, anything.
Aaron was fully aware that the world of professional football wasn’t interested in a discussion about soul mates and not being able to help who you loved. Professional football is more about breaking backs than Brokeback Mountain. So, he kept it to himself. When the Green Bay press asked about his personal life, he would just reply that he enjoyed being a bachelor and devoting his time to the Packers organization.
Their Thursday night thing evolved from XBOX to PS3 and then to movies. Aaron loved to watch movies, and he had finally gotten up the nerve to make Flynn watch one of his favorites with him that week.
Once after Friday practice, Flynn took the ball and told Aaron to go long. Aaron smiled, saluted and said, “As yooooouuuu wiiiiiishhhhhhhhh!” - and ran downfield from a hysterically laughing Flynn, who threw a rocket to him.
Two boys playing catch. Two guys having fun. Like regular dudes.
He looked up at Flynn and was met with a wink.
---
It was his first start, and it was at Foxboro.
“Aaron, it’s Brady, man. It’s Brady.” Flynn’s brow furrowed. “I know I’m ready, but why does it have to be the week we’re going against the Patriots?”
“I have faith in you, Matt. I know what you can do. It’s your time to shine, bud.”
Shine he did. Even though the Packers ended up losing the game, Flynn did not embarrass them. He was fantastic, he was everything that Aaron knew he’d be. People started to pay attention, and Flynn walked around like a little kid who had won a big trophy for about a week.
That Thursday, Flynn and Aaron had their usual evening. Flynn picked up a special from Cranky Pat’s and a couple of Leinie’s and drove over. They ate their pizza, drank their beer, talked about last week’s game, and then Aaron took out his guitar and started playing the song that he had begun learning as a treat for Flynn.
“Zeppelin? Oh, man, Aaron! You’re awesome! You are the best.”
Aaron only smiled.
---
It had been a game for the ages. Aaron stood on the sidelines, headset on, clipboard in hand, calling plays, running imaginary routes in his mind. He and Flynn had discussed it in the week prior to the game. Flynn’s open face, lighting up at the prospect of playing against what was sure to be a hungry Lions team.
Six touchdowns? Aaron was so happy, the joy of watching his guys going full speed, crushing Detroit at storied Lambeau Field radiated from him. The whole team was on fire. Jordy’s grin split his face. Raji was on the sidelines telling jokes, keeping everyone loose. Donald, as usual, was like everyone’s dad, pumping them up and keeping them motivated. In the middle of it all was Flynn, the rock, the metronome, the pacesetter. Flynn was the captain of their ship, and he steered them well.
Flynn came flying up to the bench, heading straight for Aaron. They did their little dance, only this time it was Flynn suited up.
Aaron knew it was going to change. Everything was going to change, after this moment, this performance. Flynn was too good to ride the bench for the Packers, he knew that. But he knew he had until the end of the season. Just a few more games, if they were lucky. If they could get past the next opponent, the next game, and then the next. Flynn would still be there, backing him up. Just remember that.
---
It wasn’t until the Monday evening after the Giants game, walking down the frozen aisle of the Pick and Save, between the Morningstar Chik’n and the Hot Pockets, that it hit him.
Matt Flynn wasn’t going to be his second anymore.
He went home, sunk down into his recliner with a frozen burrito and a beer or three, and stared at the wall for an hour. If he were a crying man, he’d weep. But he wasn’t - he was a goddamn Green Bay Packer, and Packers don’t cry because their buddy is going to be leaving the team.
Still, he nursed his beer and his broken heart at the same time.
Flynn was going to leave, and nothing would be the same again. He knew Flynn would be picked up by some team and be catapulted to starter, as he well deserved. But Aaron couldn’t help but think about the next season, when he would meet his adversary QB in the middle of the field and have to shake his hand and say “Good game” like he had never known the guy.
Like he had never loved him.
Like regular dudes.
FIN
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Aaron Rodgers/Matt Flynn UST - YES, IT'S RPS! And as such, it's 150% imagination, I'm pretty sure A-Rod and Flynn aren't, you know...
Rating: PG
Summary: Aaron Rodgers thinks about his friendship - and more - with his backup, Matt Flynn.
Distribution: Please ask me first, otherwise go for it!
Disclaimer: This was written specifically for this person I came across during the Fandom Snowflake Challenge. I don't think it's exactly what she wanted - she had mentioned Aaron and Clay Matthews, but I just can't do that (mostly because my friend Tory is in lurve with Matthews). Also because have you guys seen Matt Flynn lately? (and he looks like Mike Birbiglia and god, I love that man.) Finally, because of THIS:
Yeah, that's pretty much why.
Anyway, I hope this somewhat satisfies!
-----------
Like Regular Dudes
Aaron remembered how it felt to be second, the back up, the bench jockey. In case of emergency, break glass, unwrap QB for freshness. When he got the starting job, he swore to himself that he was going to make damn sure that he treated the other guys with respect. Like regular dudes.
Aaron felt it was important for team morale for the guy who took the snaps during Friday practice to be as important as the guy who suited up every Sunday. He remembered trying to carry on a conversation with the Old Man, only to be ignored, or, worse, talked down to. When it was his turn to be top dog, he wasn’t going to do that.
And so it was that in 2008, when Aaron Rodgers was named starting quarterback for the Green Bay Packers, he asked his rookie backups over to his condo for an evening of frat boy regression and XBOX. Before long it was routine - Thursday night, Madden, the greasiest sausage and mushroom pizza with hot peppers that he could order, and the guys.
Brohm was okay. Aaron didn’t feel one way or another about the guy. Brohm kept to himself in many ways, almost as if he thought he was better than everyone else because of his name recognition, or because he was picked in the second round and guys like Flynn and Finley were picked further down.
Flynn was different, though.
Flynn was open and cheerful and loved to tell stories. He was as different than Brohm as night was to day. He was different than Aaron, too, with his blond hair and farm boy looks. But unlike Brohm, Flynn had a big, open heart, and to Aaron, that was what mattered most. A big, open heart made for a devoted teammate, and Aaron was all about the team.
Soon, Aaron changed the game plan. He could, after all; he was a thinking quarterback. Brohm didn’t make the guest list anymore. Now it was just Aaron and Flynn and dinner and a growler of Titletown’s finest.
Before long, they became friends. Real friends, not just football buddies. The kind of friends who would meet in the off-season to play pool or fish or play 18 holes (Aaron very well, Flynn not too shabby). The kind of friends who would afterwards go to whoever‘s house they had made base camp for the weekend, where Flynn would grill steaks and Aaron would play his guitar.
In 2009, when the Packers cut Brohm, it was just Flynn and Aaron under center. The closeness they shared grew, and Aaron would watch the kid out there practice after practice, his arm strong, his eyes focused, his belief in his teammates shimmering over him like a heat mirage. He’d throw to Donald, he’d throw to Jennings, he’d throw to Jordy, with the kind of wicked heat that the Old Man used to spit.
But he’s not the Old Man, Aaron. He’s your friend.
---
There are things you can’t do in Chico, California. There are things you can’t do in Tyler, Texas. One also shouldn’t do those things in Ashwaubenon, Wisconsin, but Aaron did them, anyway.
He fell for a guy.
Not just any guy, but his second. He fell for the kid, for Matt.
Flynn - and he had to keep calling him Flynn, because if he didn’t he’d go crazy - Flynn made it so damn easy, man. That friendly face, that shit-eating grin, the goofy dances and the bad jokes and the arm around the shoulders at any given time. Soon, Aaron was thinking up reasons to spend more time with him, have him over to the house, anything.
Aaron was fully aware that the world of professional football wasn’t interested in a discussion about soul mates and not being able to help who you loved. Professional football is more about breaking backs than Brokeback Mountain. So, he kept it to himself. When the Green Bay press asked about his personal life, he would just reply that he enjoyed being a bachelor and devoting his time to the Packers organization.
Their Thursday night thing evolved from XBOX to PS3 and then to movies. Aaron loved to watch movies, and he had finally gotten up the nerve to make Flynn watch one of his favorites with him that week.
Once after Friday practice, Flynn took the ball and told Aaron to go long. Aaron smiled, saluted and said, “As yooooouuuu wiiiiiishhhhhhhhh!” - and ran downfield from a hysterically laughing Flynn, who threw a rocket to him.
Two boys playing catch. Two guys having fun. Like regular dudes.
He looked up at Flynn and was met with a wink.
---
It was his first start, and it was at Foxboro.
“Aaron, it’s Brady, man. It’s Brady.” Flynn’s brow furrowed. “I know I’m ready, but why does it have to be the week we’re going against the Patriots?”
“I have faith in you, Matt. I know what you can do. It’s your time to shine, bud.”
Shine he did. Even though the Packers ended up losing the game, Flynn did not embarrass them. He was fantastic, he was everything that Aaron knew he’d be. People started to pay attention, and Flynn walked around like a little kid who had won a big trophy for about a week.
That Thursday, Flynn and Aaron had their usual evening. Flynn picked up a special from Cranky Pat’s and a couple of Leinie’s and drove over. They ate their pizza, drank their beer, talked about last week’s game, and then Aaron took out his guitar and started playing the song that he had begun learning as a treat for Flynn.
“Zeppelin? Oh, man, Aaron! You’re awesome! You are the best.”
Aaron only smiled.
---
It had been a game for the ages. Aaron stood on the sidelines, headset on, clipboard in hand, calling plays, running imaginary routes in his mind. He and Flynn had discussed it in the week prior to the game. Flynn’s open face, lighting up at the prospect of playing against what was sure to be a hungry Lions team.
Six touchdowns? Aaron was so happy, the joy of watching his guys going full speed, crushing Detroit at storied Lambeau Field radiated from him. The whole team was on fire. Jordy’s grin split his face. Raji was on the sidelines telling jokes, keeping everyone loose. Donald, as usual, was like everyone’s dad, pumping them up and keeping them motivated. In the middle of it all was Flynn, the rock, the metronome, the pacesetter. Flynn was the captain of their ship, and he steered them well.
Flynn came flying up to the bench, heading straight for Aaron. They did their little dance, only this time it was Flynn suited up.
Aaron knew it was going to change. Everything was going to change, after this moment, this performance. Flynn was too good to ride the bench for the Packers, he knew that. But he knew he had until the end of the season. Just a few more games, if they were lucky. If they could get past the next opponent, the next game, and then the next. Flynn would still be there, backing him up. Just remember that.
---
It wasn’t until the Monday evening after the Giants game, walking down the frozen aisle of the Pick and Save, between the Morningstar Chik’n and the Hot Pockets, that it hit him.
Matt Flynn wasn’t going to be his second anymore.
He went home, sunk down into his recliner with a frozen burrito and a beer or three, and stared at the wall for an hour. If he were a crying man, he’d weep. But he wasn’t - he was a goddamn Green Bay Packer, and Packers don’t cry because their buddy is going to be leaving the team.
Still, he nursed his beer and his broken heart at the same time.
Flynn was going to leave, and nothing would be the same again. He knew Flynn would be picked up by some team and be catapulted to starter, as he well deserved. But Aaron couldn’t help but think about the next season, when he would meet his adversary QB in the middle of the field and have to shake his hand and say “Good game” like he had never known the guy.
Like he had never loved him.
Like regular dudes.
FIN