J2 AU RPS: I Think It’s Time to Give This Game a Ride (2/4)

[dugindeep]

Previous

Two Fridays later, Jared’s play is outstanding, it’s like he’s on autopilot. No one knows how he does it, but he’s in the exact perfect spot for any ball heading his way, and in instants, he’s shifting and firing the softball to Gabe or Chad to get the out. He’s unbelievably focused on the field and at the plate. In addition to a strong single in the second to knock in two runs, two innings later he's stealing third base and winds up beating a throw at home two hits later. He jumps up excitedly, clapping fast and purposely bumping shoulders with Jeff, who’s ready to bat, and Dwayne who scored just ahead of him.

Jared’s smiling so wide and bright as he just feels instinct take over with the bases loaded. He swings hard and fast at the incoming pitch and smacks that ball way down the right field line. His legs are pounding themselves in firm, quick steps, stretching himself as fast as he can around first with a quick glance behind him. That outfielder is still nowhere near that ball, so Jared turns on his jets. He’s heading towards third when Chad swings his palms out to stop Jared from going any further than his base. Jared easily strolls into third and gives a hearty high five to his friend, who is then jumping up and down excitedly and whooping himself silly at the three RBIs.

The Gamecocks are now up 10-2 to the Sluggers, and it’s good. So big and good that everyone’s feeding off Jared’s intensity and they score another seven runs before the end of the inning, then hold off their opponents to steal another game via slaughter rule.

Everyone’s getting their stuff together. Shoving cleats into bat bags and tugging flip flops and sneakers on. Bats are being collected while they talk about the bar and Jared’s laughing with Chad’s insistence they get wasted tonight.

“We get wasted every Friday night,” he replies.

“Can’t be too hard a feat, then, right?”

“Shit, yeah,” Jared laughs, pushing Chad at the shoulders. When he looks up, Going Deep is milling around, some of them stretching and he has the unfortunate chance to catch Tom, who’s stretching with a few other players, bending at the waist, reaching to the ground. As always, his stomach turns and his mind goes foul.

Chad sees it and punches at his back. “Let’s go, man. Beer’s a-waiting!”

The Gamecocks thread their way through Going Deep as they’re all in different states of warm up - playing catch, stretching, swinging bats. Jared swings his cap around, so the brim will cover his eyes. He’s grateful the sun’s angle as it sets is piercing so it doesn’t seem strange that he’d want to cover up. And he’s more grateful that no one will see him looking pissed at having to face them all - having to face Tom. Who happens to pop up just as they pass.

He sees Mike pat the back of his hand at the guy’s shoulder. “What’s up?” Tom sounds out, a little tired, and like he doesn’t really want to say it but feels obligated.

Jared just nods and keeps moving as Chad punches at his shoulder. But then that left fielder, the fucker who stole his homer three weeks ago is smiling a little, his hat forward as always and big sunglasses blocking the rest of his face. “You played good out there.”

He flinches a little and just keeps walking. Jared hates these fucking guys. Not just because Tom’s on that team and he extends his hatred easily to the collective unit. But because so many of them were dicks after they broke up and all but taunted Jared through the next season. It’s about 90% of why the rivalry will never die. Five percent is because they’re all pretty much giant assholes. And the other five is because Chad is a good friend who will carry Jared’s grudge to his own grave and prohibits anyone from even attempting to be civil with them. Jared kind of loves Chad sometimes.

Jared takes a quick look back at the group and then sighs and goes on to Chad’s car. He’s not willing to let these guys get to him. This was a fucking awesome game and he’s taking it with him to the bar.

At Kenny’s, everyone’s raving about the game, and then it suddenly tips over to Jared and how amazing and spot on he was.

“I’m telling you, that ball went anywhere to my right,” Gabe starts up, so animated that everyone’s laughing. With him, for once. “I just ran to second and waited for that ball. I didn’t even question he’d get to it. You, motherfucker,” he laughs, while pointing at Jared, “were everywhere!”

“Hear, hear!” Chad shouts, raising his pint glass to clink everyone else’s.

Jeff slaps to the top of Jared’s head and squeezes fingers into the scalp. “Finally getting your head into the game!”

“Dude, I’m fucking there every week. Where were you?” Jared laughs.

Chad warns, “Be careful Jeff. Jared’s getting some ass so he’s getting smug.”

Jeff moves in tight, tucking Jared under his arm. “Aww, my little brother. Finally getting ass.”

“Fuck you all!” Jared announces before rising to refill two pitchers.

He’s at the bar and waiting for the bartender, who seems to suddenly have a chip in one of his front teeth and strangely marked eyebrows. Like Jared never saw it before, but he can’t help but stare at the two things because nothing amounts to the way Jensen quirks his eyebrows. Or how straight and bright his teeth are when he smiles. Or how juicy his lips are in a fake pout, and soft when they kiss, or moist when he’s working his way down Jared’s body.

Jared’s reminded of the last week and how he’s spent every evening at Jensen’s. And the week before that, it was four out of five weekdays. Each day, their video game playing went on longer than before and their sex was more rushed so Jared wasn’t heading back home on the El too late in the middle of the night. They’re falling into a steady rhythm of hours-long battles of basketball, football, or baseball, whatever worked for them that night. And whoever came out a loser had to get to work blowing the other one, and from there it escalated to whatever worked for them. And Jared fucking loves it.

He’s finding out how easily it is for him to step into Jensen’s apartment and not feel any tension or strangeness like he did the first two times. He just saunters in, dropping whatever he picked up for dinner or a late snack if had to close the store. They get filthy on wings and pizza and cheese fries. And more than twice Jared sucks all that oil and sauce off of Jensen’s fingers, driving him batshit crazy and eventually fucking him on the couch without any apologies.

So yeah, things are going really fucking good for his sex life, and he’s feeling high as a kite, not even realizing that it was Jensen who flung him to this level of giddiness. Because here he is at the bar and trying to keep an eye out for the guy, and waiting for him to show up like he said he would.

But he doesn’t, and bows out with a text. My thing ran late. I don’t think I’ll make it.

Jared frowns and triggers a response back, short and quick. :-(

Jared doesn’t even care that his brother keeps eyeing him. He knows he’s smirking with his tongue stuck a little between his teeth, and he knows his brother, too, is smiling. Jared’s just going to focus on Jensen’s reply. You’re not getting me with that

:`-(

Fuck you

I was hoping, but you’re bailing

Come over

Jared stares at the screen, and he so wants to, but there’s something tugging his stomach back to reality. He’s been at Jensen’s every single night since Sunday - Saturday being the only night he spent with his own friends. So it’s been six days since he saw his roommate for more than an hour at Dick’s for their weekly gathering. They just killed that game and they’re celebrating. And it’s the first time in weeks that everyone - everyone - is on board to drink themselves silly. Jeff and Dwayne normally bow out early to their families, and a few others leave around midnight. But everyone’s feeling jumpy and happy with the win and Jared’s return to normal. So it’d suck to not be there to keep it going.

Are you going to make me beg?

He sighs and heads outside. Among the complaints that he’s leaving the table, he shushes them down. “I got a phone call to make, shut up!”

“Booty call!” Chad shouts. “Get that candy ass!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jared yells back and ignores how other people look at him.

But he can’t ignore Mike and Tom at the front door, blocking Jared from exiting. He just stands dumbly and watches them, waiting for them to move. In a good ten seconds, he’s realizing that he’s also blocking their entrance. He mumbles out a lame, “Yeah, sorry,” and moves to the left.

Tom’s eyes won’t leave Jared’s face and they’re not quite harsh, but Jared can’t read what he really wants to say. Maybe something that says sorry? That’d be fucking nice, Jared thinks. Never got a fucking sorry.

“What’s up with you?” Mike asks in an awkward tone and staring at Jared.

Jared’s eyebrows drop and he doesn’t say anything in return, just glares.

The guy looks at Tom and seems confused. “There a problem?”

“No,” Jared complains, “I’m just waiting for you to move.”

“Huh, that’s funny.”

Jared shifts around them without another word and huffs his way out the door. He’s dialing Jensen in seconds and sighing. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll make it out.”

“What’s up, man?” Jensen asks easily, like he really cares that there’s something off in Jared’s tone.

“Nothing, I just,” and then he stops talking because Tom is back outside and he doesn’t need this right here. He runs a hand over his head and it stays there, just so the bend of his elbow can block Tom’s face as he’s lighting a cigarette. They just got there, so Jared knows there’s no reason for him to be outside, except that Jared is. And he doesn’t fucking need it right now, because this was supposed to be the big celebratory night where everyone drank themselves silly, and he could end his night fucking Jensen. But now he’s stuck outside the bar with Tom souring up his mood and dealing with not even kissing Jensen (because he knows sometimes just that mouth can get him roused up well enough).

“Everything okay? You don’t sound good.”

“Nah, it’s just …” Jared can’t help but see Tom watching him, and it’s all flooding his head. The three years he spent with that guy, how he loved the strong arms and the sharp smile in his lips, how he spent the last few dozen weeks of their relationship waking up beside him with a lazy, sleep-laden smile. How things were so good for 38 months … until it wasn’t at all. And that’s flooding his mind as well. Making him want to go back inside to drink until he can’t feel a damned thing - like he did for weeks while crashing on Chad’s couch before finally taking over the second bedroom and half the rent.

On the other hand, he wants to just run himself over to Jensen’s and screw that guy and get blown so well that he doesn’t remember what Tom used to do with his tongue. Make him forget anyone existed before Jensen and … well, that right there scares him. Because he hasn’t gotten close to anyone in any state or form since Tom. He’s been screwing himself through one-night stands as much as he can and otherwise just going solo for month-long droughts. He and Jensen aren’t even that close, but this is the first time he’s spent more than two days with any guy, and as it’s looking, it’s been close to a month and a lot of tossed condoms. So it’s something entirely different.

“Jay, what’s up? You okay?”

Jared’s jogged back to present time and he rolls his eyes at Tom and brings himself back to the phone conversation. “Yeah. Look, Chad drove and I can’t get out there.”

“Dude, you need to get yourself a car already.”

Jared chuckles a little, because Jensen gives him shit over not being able to drive himself back to his apartment at night every time they mess around. Because Jensen’s always trying to coax him to stay longer so they can mess around more. “I live in the City. I’ve got the CTA.”

“Yeah, and I live out here. Suburbs.”

Jared’s lips turn down, because while Jensen lives right off the Green Line in Oak Park, it’s still not ideal. And in all realities, the fact that Jensen is insisting that Jared get a car so this thing can go on longer than just tonight is making his head swim.

“Jared?”

He fumbles with a good excuse and finally just rambles on. “Yeah, I know. Shit, man, we won and we’re celebrating, and Chad’ll give me shit for weeks if I don’t stay put. But you know I would, I so would. I’m not blowing you off.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says oddly, like he wants to stay a lot more. But he just ends it with, “Okay. Yeah.”

Jared ends the call shortly after that and doesn’t even want to turn around. Because he knows Tom’s still there, still smoking. “What?” Jared asks while looking out on the parking lot.

“Nothing, I was just smoking.”

“Right,” he laughs without humor.

Tom exhales. “So, I hear you got yourself a new guy?”

“Maybe.”

“’Bout time, eh?”

When he turns, he sees Tom with a tiny smug face, like he just wanted to see how Jared would respond to being in the same space as him. He shakes his head and marches right back in, nearly downing the rest of his beer and trying to put it all out of his head. But all his memories of Tom push forward and he’s left a little numb from the pain of it all and even more dead as the alcohol courses his body. But it’s enough to mask it so he can laugh with his friends and continue pretending everything’s great.

*

He can’t even believe he’s doing it, but here he is. Standing outside Jensen’s door and weaving a little before he brings up his fist to knock. He doesn’t do it too loudly because he knows it’s the middle of the night and he can’t imagine the trouble of waking up any of the neighbors. But he knocks again, and 30 seconds later again. No one is answering.

Jared slumps against the door and dials Jensen’s cell. He smirks when he can actually hear it blasting some classic rock stuff through the door. It’s in the living room, and soon enough, Jared can swear he hears heavy footsteps traipse through the room on the otherside.

“Dude.”

“Huh?” Jared asks, because Jensen is so not happy right there.

“You said you weren’t coming out, I went to sleep. This is the exact opposite of cool.”

“Oh,” Jared chuckles but he doesn’t mean to sound condescending. It just happens because he’s drunk enough to not be able to really control much of his tone. “I’m sorry. Seriously. I don’t know. Thought you’d be up?”

Jensen sighs on the line. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah, why? I mean, I’m drunk. But why do you keep asking?”

“Because you sounded awful on the phone earlier. What’s up?”

Jared turns on his shoulder and places a palm and his ear to the door. “I’m outside.”

“Outside where?”

“You’re apartment.”

There’s a pause and he can hear feet moving around again, but it’s not closer to the door. He wonders if Jensen’s looking out his front windows. “Are you stalking me?”

“Nah, I … I’m surprising you?”

“How drunk are you?”

“Pretty.” Jared then taps his fingertips at the door as he waits for Jensen to say more.

It takes some time before he does. “You’re at my front door, aren’t you?”

“You, my fine friend, are correct. You win a prize. You get me.”

“What happens if I leave you out there?”

Jared can tell Jensen’s annoyance and sleep is breaking away. He can hear it in his voice. “In the morning you get day-old Jared. Just as fuckable, but a little less fresh”

Jensen chuckles and moves closer to the door. “You gonna back away so you don’t tumble in?”

Jared shoves his eye against the outside of the peephole. “Dude, I don’t see you.”

“Dumbass,” Jensen chuckles more as he opens the door and lets Jared in.

Without much argument, Jensen microwaves some pizza rolls so Jared can slop up some of the alcohol in his system and not be completely useless. They sit together at the small kitchen table, a glass of water in front of them both and Jared chomping each roll full into his mouth.

Jensen’s smirking at Jared the whole time, watching as he takes his time to pick out a snack and tosses it back quickly, munching around the heat of the food. “Been a long time for this.”

“Wha?” Jared asks around a full mouth of sauce, sausage, and breading.

“Drunk, just showing up.”

“Dude,” he mouths around the hot food before taking a quick sip of water. “What else is there for us?”

Jensen just stares and it takes some time for Jared to look up and realize that he’s not talking. His smile is tight as he rises to put his glass in the sink. “I’ll get you some pillows.”

“For wha?”

“The couch?”

“Dude, I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

“You’re not sleeping with me.”

Jared stares and he feels the whiplash of Jensen’s flat tone and face. “Huh? What’s going on?”

Jensen shrugs. “I don’t know. Obviously not what I thought it was.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, more than drunk hookups.”

Jared leans back a little. “Really?”

Jensen moves back to the table and plants his palms into the table to find Jared’s eyes and keep them from going too far away to ignore him. “Jared, you’ve been here nearly every night the last three weeks. That’s not just fucking around.”

He keeps Jensen’s eyes, because the green is pinning him in his place and he can’t focus on anything other than what he’d just said. Because he kind of knows it, but he’s been ignoring it and figuring Jensen was on board with that whole plan. But obviously he’s not. He looks pissed and like he wishes Jared hadn’t stopped by at all. Jared winces, as his stomach drops. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Jensen backs away. “You know where the bathroom is.” And he’s gone from the room.

Jared spends a good deal of time on the floor of the bathroom, huddled around the toilet and praying he could throw up. Because he can’t handle the rocks in his stomach and how they’re giving him the world’s worst heartburn-slash-nausea. He’s pretty sure his chest breaking tight isn’t a good thing either. He rests his arms at the seat and stares down into the water and just wills his stomach to empty. So he can rid himself of all that’s plaguing him right there.

He feels like an asshole. For showing up in the middle of the night drunk, and all because Tom flipped him over with just a few words. He hates that he can’t just fucking get over it … and he knows he’s never dealt with it and just ignores it and pretends nothing ever happened, like he’s the smoothest shit in the world and enjoys going months without any real connection then spending random nights with people he finds in bars. And he’s a bigger asshole for totally ignoring what was happening before his eyes. He knew he liked Jensen - really liked Jensen. That he smiles every time Jensen texts him. That he’s always looking forward to seeing him after work. That lately he’s been entering the apartment with a kiss and not even caring how it was a little too domestic for the last four years of his life. That he hadn’t really fallen into step like that since Tom.

And he hates that that’s where it all goes. Because he’d really like to live his life without ever using those three letters. Jared sits up a little straighter and promises himself to never use the name again. No matter what. He just can’t and won’t. He’ll get over this fucking mindmeld the guy’s got on him and just let it all go so he can be a decent human being again and enjoy being with someone. Enjoy being with Jensen.

Tears start to fall and he’s trying so hard to keep them in, which make them fall even faster. And before he knows it, his chest is heaving and he’s spitting out sobs and pushing his face against his hands just so it’s all the more muffled. It goes on for a good five minutes, and when he’s done, he feels drained and tired, like he could turn over and sleep right there on Jensen’s bathmat. But he hears footsteps just outside and he sees the break in the hallway light where Jensen’s standing. With a deep breath, Jared heaves himself up and opens the door.

Jensen’s watching him critically, taking in the damp cheeks, the red eyes, and trembling lips.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

Jared wipes his palm over his face. “No, not at all.”

He can tell Jensen’s fighting with himself. He still looks pissed over their conversation, but he seems to want to help. Finally, Jensen tugs on Jared’s arm and pushes him towards the living room. “Lay down. You probably need to just sleep this off.”

“Yeah,” he says dumbly as he settles into the cushions and watches Jensen head back to his room. In seconds, his eyelids slide down and he’s out.

Jared wakes to sunlight creasing its way into the living room. He feels like death on overtime. His throat is dry and his lips are cracked. The eyes are burning and his head pounds. He stumbles into the bathroom to splash some water on his face and push hair off his face. After a quick look through the bathroom, he uncovers some ibuprofen and takes a healthy dose with a big glass of water. His reflection is as ugly as he feels on the inside, having ripped himself raw with all the alcohol and late night emotional bruises he fought in this bathroom. With a second thought, he gargles mouthwash and heads to Jensen’s doorway.

The guy is tucked into himself, like he always sleeps, facing the wall with the sheets resting at his hip. His hair goes everywhere, his mouth is sagging open, and he’s wearing a filthy, worn tee. But Jared thinks Jensen looks beautiful and peaceful and everything a sleeping person - someone you care about - is. He takes a deep breath before he can work his way to the bed and he carefully rests next to him.

Jensen stirs with the weight and starts to turn over. His eyes find Jared and he’s sighing as he settles on his back. “You feeling better?”

“Yes and no.”

He rubs rough hands over his eyes to wake up and listen. But he’s not looking at Jared. “Hmm?”

“Jensen, I’m a dick. I know that. But … ” And there Jared stops to build up the words, the courage to keep this conversation going where he wants it to go. Because he knows that the sickness in his belly wasn’t the alcohol from last night and it’s not this morning’s hangover. It’s from disappointing Jensen and hurting him. Jensen still won’t look at him and he realizes he just has to go forward. “I got burned real bad. And it’s been a while since there was something else that made me kinda forget it. But then it freaked me out and I just kept saying that there wasn’t anything more than jerking off and whatever going on here, ya know? I’m sorry. I really am. I feel like such a shit.”

Jensen’s head finally moves. He looks over at Jared, still watching but not leaking any emotion. “What happened?”

Jared takes a deep breath because it’d been so long since he had to really face it all. “He cheated. Brought some guy home from the bar. Our bed.”

“You lived together?”

“Yeah. It was big time,” Jared tries to joke to ease the tension. “He, uh, he was at the bar last night and it just. It fucking wrecked me. He was being all cool and trying to talk to me and I don’t know. I didn’t know what else to do aside from drink.”

“And then you showed up here.”

“Yeah,” Jared sighs, realizing how ridiculous it all is. He came to Jensen when he was hurt, and then he turned around and hurt Jensen to hide that fact. “Jeff dropped me off.”

Jensen just nods, taking it all in.

He prays he wasn’t too big an ass the night before, or that Jensen has a really big heart to forgive it all. Because he really likes being here in Jensen’s space, even if they’re not doing anything. Which should have been a tell-tale sign when they started spending more time eating and playing games than trying to rip their clothes off. Jared’s an idiot.

“You’re an idiot.”

He smirks; he can’t help it. “Yeah, I know.”

Jensen lets out a long breath and then puts an arm out. “C’mere.” Jared turns into Jensen’s embrace, settling his head at his chest and not feeling weirded out by Jensen’s hand sweeping through his hair. Because he really likes it right there, even when it’s caused his skin to crawl these last four years. With Jensen it feels right, just like laying against him feels right. Jared’s always had height on his boyfriends and random one-nighters. And he has a few good inches on Jensen, but right here, he feels like the small one and he knows he needs it. He craves this comfort right here. Jensen sighs again. “Are you willing to admit this isn’t just a hookup?”

Jared’s voice is low. “I thought that’s what my apology was doing.”

Before he knows it, Jensen turns to him and Jared’s drowning in the green of his critical eyes. “Dude, serious.”

He winces a little. “Yeah. I kinda was being serious.” When Jensen’s hand swipes across Jared’s arm, he closes his hand around Jensen’s ribcage. It suddenly hits him; he likes this and wants to keep it. “I don’t want to let this go yet,” he finally says.

Jensen’s arm goes higher on Jared’s and he leans over to kiss his forehead. “That’s better.”

*

So Jared and Jensen settle on being boyfriends and they spend an unreal amount of time with each other considering their work schedules - Jensen’s a typical 8-5 and Jared’s jumps from 10-6 to 1-9 depending on his day at the store. Fridays are questionable with Jared’s softball but Jensen usually shows up at the bar at some point in the night and hangs with the guys at their table.

Jared’s teammates are happy for him because it’s like the light just fucking blares from his eyes and his smile. He’s happy nearly all the time and the only real outrage he shows on the field seems to be greatly justified on bad calls or just-missed plays. Other than that, he’s playing phenomenally and it’s contagious. Gabe’s already quick hands turn to lightning as he and Jared flip double plays in their sleep. Chad can’t seem to miss a single ball fired his way. Dwayne and Jared are perfectly in tune as they share the left side of the infield. The outfielders are burning up the grass as they hustle for every flyball. And the hitting? It’s even sharper than ever. They charge through all of July demolishing the competition. And they’re having so much freaking fun out there that their time at the bar is just ridiculous and hysterical on a whole new level. Chad doesn’t pick on Gabe - as much - and the whole table seems to join in on full conversations instead of fracturing into their own mini chats.

But in all realities, Jared knows there’s something beneath the surface that no one will address. And he’s kind of afraid to question it, really, because he’s trying to enjoy how things are going for him at the moment. He asks Jeff at the end of the month, after one of their Thursday night gatherings at the store. He just shrugs and won’t say much. But when Jared finally pins his brother down, the guy gets a little sheepish. “We’re chasing Going Deep. Everyone’s a little nervous, ya know.”

Jared’s face is relaxed and set. “We’re gonna fucking kill ‘em. What’s the problem?”

Jeff laughs and pats at Jared’s shoulder. “Alright, kiddo.”

The first Friday in August, Jared slugs the hell outta the ball. He’s three-for-three so far and it’s tingling from his fingers down into his toes. He’s so thinking about it, even when he shouldn’t jinx himself, but it’s feeling so good. His hands are sharp and quick. His legs solid and speedy. So when he’s in the field, he bends just so at the knees and hangs his arms low like jelly. His fingers are swiping at the dirt, creating little clouds between his legs. He smirks when he sees the batter distracted, watching him.

The guy slaps the ball back at the mound, hitting Jeff’s legs before he can get a hand on it. The ball changes direction and heads between Gabe and Jared, but Jared’s got it, screaming hoarse at Gabe so he stays out of the way. Jared’s laughing at his brother while charging the ball; he’s already instinctive to the ball but still has fun with it all. Sprinting to his left, sweeping up the ball as it bobbles before his feet, and then he’s spinning on his left foot and firing with his right arm. The ball pegs Chad right in the chest, his hands cupping around it. The inning’s over and Jared’s hopping up and down with a huge smirk as Chad jogs over to him. They go so far as to leap and chest bump, and Jared feels like the lamest motherfucker ever, but he’s ecstatic and charged about that play.

When he’s next up, he sweeps the bat at his ankles and takes inventory of the outfield. They’re all pushed pretty far back but there’s no real gap anywhere for him to aim and he’s a little worried about that centerfielder. Guy’s got hops and took down a few of Chad’s and Jeff’s flyballs. But Jared eyes how the third baseman is shuffling closer to shortstop after Jared split their space with a quick single in the third. He’s watching him, his left eye casually floating there while his right is trained on the pitcher, who finally releases a pitch. Jared smacks the softball right along the first base line in a giant arch that he’s praying stays fair as he’s running to first. When he heads to second he hears Chad swear from his spot as third base coach. He looks back and the ball landed a good ten or so feet foul before anyone could get to it.

He jogs back to the batter’s box and settles back in, bat swinging below his knees before he brings it back up and sets. The whole field shifts a little to Jared’s right and he smirks. The pitch comes in high and at a sharp angle, so sharp Jared should lay off of it. But along with all that energy and positivity he’s been bringing to the field, there’s about a hundred tons of bravado behind him. So as that ball falls steeply towards his knees, he leans back then right into it and launches that softball in a line drive that zings over the third baseman’s head and keeps running itself along the baseline. He’s charging first and already on his way to second by the time the ball stops rolling and the left fielder is just getting to it and hustling to throw it into third. Jared’s wheeling it and watching Chad watch the ball, shooting his arms down to get Jared to slide, and at the last second he yells, “Get the fuck here!”

Jared takes two more long steps then pulls his feet up to slide right into third, narrowly beating the throw. He pops back up to his feet while clapping, throws his arm into the high five with Chad, and laughs when his friend’s whining about the power behind it.

The Gamecocks win their fourth game in a row by slaughter rule. It’s their seventh win of the season and gets them dead even with Going Deep who just finished playing and won their game. They can’t lose another game. They have to fend off the rest of the teams and keep beating everyone so they stay tied for first and get the best seed they can in the playoffs, which start next week.

They’re so charged that when they’re leaving, no one notices - or doesn’t react - to Going Deep in the parking lot, packing up their cars. Jared’s just laughing with Chad to his truck and finding everything hilarious. The good mood is addictive, and he carries it with him for hours, it seems.

Tom and Aldis are two spots over and offer a little head nod. Jared just stares. And so does Chad, because he really is a good friend in these kinds of situations. Chad grumbles, “Yeah, go fuck yourself.”

Jared’s chuckling and he sees a few other guys in Going Deep blue coming near. Bobby and the left fielder are talking and suddenly nodding at Jared and Chad, but again, they just glare back. “Hey,” the left fielder offers and Jared awkwardly nods. “What’s up?”

His eyes squint, much like Chad’s at the guy trying to talk. They just shake their heads and get into the car so they can get to the bar and just get back to all the high energy and good juices they’ve got flowing.

At Kenny’s, Jared’s super jumpy and excitedly trying to get into any conversation he can. He hasn’t felt this charged in weeks, but he knows it’s been building up all this time.

Chad slaps Jared on the back as he returns from the bathroom. “Motherfucker! Couldn’t go for the cycle! Man, we’re gonna have to move you down in the order.”

“Shit, someone’s gotta make up for your pop-ups,” Jared’s laughing back.

And they keep ribbing on each other over the miniscule mistakes they made, but it’s all in fun because they won and they’re playing just as good as last year, maybe better. If only they can take back that loss to Going Deep, then they’d be up in the clouds and loving every second of it. But they’re focused and so set on charging through the playoffs just the way they’re playing now. And dead set on meeting Going Deep at the end.

Around midnight, Jared’s sure he’s done drinking for the night and asks Chad to borrow his car.

“Dude, no. I told you, no gay sex in the truck.”

“Fucker,” and he smacks the back of his head. “I just need to get to his house.”

“When you gonna buy yourself a damned car? I can’t be your chauffeur 24/7.”

Gabe speaks up with a level voice, “You’re not, you’re just loaning him a car to go get gay sex.”

“My truck will not be part of any homo transactions. You can blow your boyfriend in the back of his car.”

“C’mon. Gabe’ll give you a ride home and I’m sure he’ll blow you afterwards. Two-for-one.”

“My mouth and his dick are never getting together. I swear to God.”

“Funny,” Chad speaks up. “Your mom said the same thing just before I took her out to dinner.”

“Dude, not my mom,” Gabe whines, but Chad ignores him.

“I took her out to dinner and we had a lovely time. I even paid. And then I drove her home and walked her to the door.” Everyone’s watching Chad because he’s gone a few sentences without swearing and this is unheard of. “And then the next morning, she called and I told her I was sorry, but I just wasn’t feeling it because I wanted your sister, who would suck my dick.”

“Dude.”

Jared chuckles and pushes at Chad. “Seriously awful.”

“I was going clean. It’s Gabe’s mom!”

“What stopped you before?”

“She made brownies at his July 4th party. They were amazing,” and he seems to sigh with how great he feels about them.

Gabe laughs, “She makes the best pot brownies.”

“I love your mom!”

“Stop fucking talking about my mom.”

“I said good things! She bakes like a mean bitch.”

Jared cuts in, “Can I have your car?”

“Gaywad! How many times do I need to say no?”

Jared shakes his head and takes a big sip of beer before he refills his glass, knowing he’ll be there a while longer at this rate. It’s a little too late to try to grab the Red Line then transfer to the Green to get to Jensen’s. He’s not about to pay for a cab; he’s not that desperate. It just would’ve been nice to get there.

He’s annoyed by it, but not totally pissed off, so he does his best to keep going with his friends and laugh through all their antics. But soon enough, he spots Tom and Mike and their buddy Aaron’s there, too, and they’re talking close before Aaron looks back at their table and pins Jared with his gaze. He looks away but manages to find them again as Tom’s watching him oddly. And Jared knew the guy so well for three years, but he can’t figure this look out. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

Soon enough, he’s stewing a little, because he still hates sharing this bar with them, and he’d been doing so well these last few weeks. Not caring, being able to not run into them with their games always falling at different times, meaning one team was showing up when the other was already settled and drinking and not paying attention to anything but each other. And it’s so easy when Jensen’s next to him and he’s not paying attention to anyone else. But Jensen bowed out on tire and didn’t come out.

For whatever reason, Tom won’t stop looking over and Mike pats a hand at Tom’s chest before heading towards their table.

“Fuck,” Jared mutters and shifts in his seat, patting at Chad. “What’s this shithead want?”

He’s at the other end of their row of tables and talking to Dwayne and Cliff. Jared just watches the guy and tries to make out what’s going on. He’s not even sure, but it’s getting to him, he can feel it, and he wants to just jump out of his skin because he hates that it still does bother him to be wondering what Mike and Tom have going on, because he’s sure it’s nothing good.

Jeff looks across the table and waves for Jared’s attention. “Jay, it’s cool. Just ignore it.”

He shakes his head quickly and his knees are bopping so fast that anyone who looks can see how antsy he is. “I fucking can’t. I hate those fuckers.”

Jeff frowns then glances at Chad, who looks empty of any good ideas. “Alright, I’m gonna head out. Jay, you want a ride?”

His head pops up and he looks physically relieved at the idea. They’re gone immediately, and Jared can’t be more thankful in the car, practically begging his appreciation off on his brother.

“Jay, cool it. It’s fine.”

“Nah, I just … shit, I can’t do that. I can’t deal with them,” he’s rambling. And he knows he is, but it just comes while his knee pops up and down again. “I was feeling better about it, and it’s fine when Jen’s there, but every other time I see them on the field I just feel it and I don’t want anything to do with them.”

Jeff chuckles because his little brother is likely always going to have issues with these sorts of things - he knows deep down Jared’s a personable guy and hates when people don’t want to like him or be around him, takes it personally, and you add that onto the fact that Tom burned him, and he’s never going to deal well with Going Deep. Everyone knows this, but Jared usually keeps it clamped down enough. Though once a year he seems to have one of these little breakouts and Jeff’s glad enough that for once he can take him somewhere where it will be eased.

“So, things are good with Jensen?”

Jared throws a hand through his hair. “Yeah, things are great. They’re awesome.”

“Really?” he smiles, so glad to hear it and kind of wanting to hear more of it. It’s been a while since his brother was good like that.

“Yeah. He’s awesome. I … It’s just great. I don’t know. I’m trying to not think about it so much and just be there, but you assholes keep asking me, so yeah. I … I really like the guy.”

Jeff reaches a hand over and clamps down on Jared’s shoulder. “Jared, that’s awesome. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. I’m happy for me, too. Is that dumb to say? I don’t know, but I am. I’m fucking ecstatic, it’s crazy.” His leg is back to stuttering quickly, but Jeff appreciates that this is a good movement and he doesn’t comment on it. This is the blubbery, rambly brother he loves to see.

He wakes Jensen, who has early plans with family but welcomes him in anyway. Jared burns all his nervous energy by screwing around with Jensen and they share a well-drawn out, well-timed orgasm that blasts them both so incredibly hard that Jared’s pretty sure he was right when he said everything was awesome. Because they fall asleep next to each other with Jared’s palm at Jensen’s stomach, and in the morning, he’s slowly woken with sloppy kisses that don’t really go anywhere because he’s trying to be good and let Jensen off in time. Even though he thinks he can see it in Jensen’s eyes that he wants Jared to make him late. He won’t, but he promises to stick around and make it up to Jensen when he returns that night.

In the middle of all this, he realizes he’s falling in love with Jensen. That drunken night, with the early morning admittance of his issues was the first time he’d spent the night at Jensen’s. But it just broke things wide open because it’s now a surprise if he sleeps in his own bed anymore. And Chad makes jokes and gets pissy, but lets it go easily enough because he knows Jared wants this and he deserves it, and the guy is unstoppable on the softball field right now because he’s fueled by this, so it’s just got to be that way.

Which only pushes Jared even further to just jump headfirst into Jensen and not question anything. It feels a lot like skydiving without a parachute, but Jensen surprises him on a daily basis by making him feel safe and cared for and he thinks loved. But no one’s saying it and they’re just going forward with the little moments speaking for themselves. Like the way they lean into each to watch movies. Or Jared making breakfast while Jensen snoozes his way through his alarm, hating mornings. Even the simple way they cuddle after sex and breathe silently with soft, caressing hands.

It gets a little heady one day when Jared makes a run to the grocery store while Jensen’s in the shower, like it’s part of his duty in being there so often. Like he’s picking up food for Jensen and him, not just restocking the food he’s eaten on Jensen. And it makes him grin for the entire trip, to the point that people are eyeing him oddly as he checks out produce but he doesn’t care.

When he gets home from the store, he finds Jensen in the bedroom, laid out on the bed and watching TV with one arm curled beneath his head. Jared enters and keeps that same smile, eventually covering Jensen with his body so he can feel every inch of him. They kiss and it’s not rough, because it really isn’t anymore, unless they really want it to be. Right now, it’s languid with sweeping tongues that move just right while Jared swivels his hips so their dicks are sliding against each other. Jensen flips Jared to his back and he’s straddling his waist but still rocking against him. He holds Jared’s hands down to the mattress and mouths his way down his neck, eventually suckling at the edge of his collar bone.

And there, Jared feels it and thinks about it and finally looks at Jensen. He asks softly. “Will you?”

“Will I what?” Jensen asks, just as quiet.

Jared just stares, as if he’s trying to get the courage from Jensen’s gaze. He pulls his leg around Jensen’s hip. “I want you.”

“Ya got me,” Jensen smirks, a little smug.

“No. In me.”

And Jensen stares back because they’d been over this a few times. In the beginning, when it really was just screwing around, Jared would swiftly move away from any chance for Jensen to get to him. Then once things were squared between them, he admitted that he hadn’t in so long because he didn’t trust anyone. Not for years.

But he does Jensen. And he realized it while squeezing cantaloupe in the produce section, because he never before cared if the fruit was perfectly ripe. But he wanted to pick the right one for Jensen. And it just clicked.

“You sure?”

“I groped fruit for you. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Jare,” Jensen breathes out, like it means so much to even be asked.

Slowly, Jared removes his shirt and watches Jensen pulls off his. Jensen takes down his pants, wanting to be naked before Jared and hoping it prolongs the guy’s confidence right there, hoping nothing shatters this moment. He imagines that if he goes too quickly with Jared, it will all halt and it’s the last thing he wants. Jared goes ahead and lifts his hips so Jensen can get his sweats down. Jensen pushes his knees apart, almost ready to dip down to kiss at his hard dick, because that’s what he always does. He looks at Jared for reassurance and Jared’s watching him and nodding. Jensen moves to the nightstand and retrieves the lube, trying so slowly to do this, to give Jared a chance to back out.

But he never does. He just slides further onto the bed so he’s flat as possible, so close to Jensen, and widens his legs. Jensen is about two seconds from tipping his finger into Jared’s hole and he looks for his reassurance again. And Jared gives it with another nod and the hesitation in Jensen’s eyes kill him there.

At the same time, Jared right here is destroying Jensen because it’s not the Jared he met that night a dozen weeks ago at the bar. The one he blew in the backseat of his car, or the one who fingerfucked him blind. This is a whole new Jared, all open and vulnerable and caring and wanting Jensen to be there for him. And Jensen’s eyes are wide, like he’s a little scared, which freaks Jared out a little. That much is evident on his face.

Jensen leans forward, hands pressed into the mattress so he can hover over Jared, so he can slowly lower himself and kiss him. Long, lazy, easy. Like they have so often taken to doing lately. Jared’s legs go back around Jensen’s hips and he’s begging with his body. With his legs clamped down, his arms pulling Jensen in tight. With his mouth working itself so expertly with Jensen’s.

Finally he pulls back and rests his forehead on Jared’s. “You sure about this?”

Jared’s eyes catch Jensen’s and he looks about twelve years old right there. Like he’s just a kid and not 28 with all these feelings for his boyfriend and ready to cross this bridge. “Yeah. So sure.” Jensen’s eyes close and Jared asks again, almost quieter than before, “Will you?”

Jensen nods against him, kisses him, and murmurs. “I love you, you know.”

It’s the first time he’s heard it in four years but it feels like the first time it’s ever been said. Jared’s hands hold his face so he can kiss him and thumb his cheek. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Jensen finally moves back between Jared’s legs, his hands gentle and slow as they skate across his thighs, over his knees, and down his calves. He keeps his eyes on Jared as he gets into place and his finger rubs around the edge of his hole. He sees Jared’s breathing catch but he’s smiling slightly, enough to tell him to keep going. So he pushes in and pulls out, only to push back in and smile at the way Jared’s starting to press back on him. He asks for a second finger and Jensen’s not sure it won’t hurt this soon, but Jared wants it, so he gives it to him.

He’s working two fingers into him, stretching and rolling within, getting Jared open while he can tell the rest of Jared’s body is dying for it to happen. Because Jared’s rocking forward, pushing his legs as far apart as possible, and pushing his palms against the headboard.

“Jen,” he pants. “You gonna do this soon?”

“Don’t get so touchy,” he smirks.

“I’m just wondering how fucking slow you’re gonna go.”

Jensen spins his fingers around, pushing the fingertips hard against the inside and making Jared keen forward. “Like that?”

“C’mon, seriously.”

“I don’t know. You sure you’re ready for this?” He’s checking with all honesty, but there is a playful light in his eyes as he waits for Jared’s command.

“Uh, yeah,” he pants again.

Jensen goes back to hovering over Jared, kissing and keeping his fingers going. Jared moans into his mouth and he finally pulls out to guide himself to the hole. The head is pushing so carefully and Jared’s groping Jensen’s hips to bring him in, but Jensen is pacing this and enjoying it and basically taking care of Jared. When he bottoms out, Jared’s eyes are dark but lazy and Jensen’s go much the same because it really has been months of screwing around but not being here, inside, so close to the core. And he loves it.

Loves enough that he has to start pulling out and pushing back in, has to keep moving because the friction is rippling against his dick and he can’t wait to get in time with Jared’s hips as they rock back on him. Soon enough, they’re good and Jensen lets himself down close to Jared so they can kiss and Jared’s dick gets its own friction between their bare stomachs.

They’re panting and swearing and giving little ‘uh, uh’ and ‘ah, ah’ sounds through the whole thing. But there are no more jokes and no more complaints because Jared is loving Jensen right here, loving what Jensen is giving him, and taking it so well. Taking it because he trusts Jensen and wants him here. And Jensen just keeps pushing forward, knowing when he knocks Jared’s prostate because he hitches just so and there’s precum leaking between them.

If Jared liked saying it, this is where he’d think about them making love. But he doesn’t and he won’t. Only a tiny corner of his mind really equates it to being so fucking close that his heart is pounding harder than any other time they mess around and his stomach is warming with it all. He can’t help how everything inside reacts, and he’s not even aware of how tightly he’s gripping Jensen’s hips to pull him even further into him and even faster than before. But it’s happening and soon enough, Jensen is no longer kissing him but just rutting right into him. His head is dropped down, his eyes clenched tight, and he’s so focused on the feeling and going with it. And Jared knows Jensen would think about making love, so he just smiles, knowing he’s giving this moment to Jensen while Jensen’s giving it right back to him.

Jensen starts pounding faster, feeding the demons that are building his orgasm. And the head of his dick continues smacking Jared’s prostate, making him whimper and squeeze bruises into Jensen’s waist as they continue rocking so hard that the slick-slack of their bodies and Jensen’s hips hitting Jared’s ass are louder than their breathing. Until finally, Jared breaks and before he can make a sound, there’s cum shooting between them, soaking their stomachs. And the way his hole clenches on Jensen makes him wince, but he rides it out and soon enough he’s coming, warm liquid filling what little space there is within Jared’s ass.

Jensen collapses hard, his head on Jared’s shoulder, sweat pilling itself all around his hairline and down his neck. And no one says a word, but they lay there longer than usual and just take in the noise of their steadying breathing and their pulses trying so hard to fall back to normal.

“That all you got?” Jared asks gently, his voice lost and rough.

Jensen’s chuckle is dark as he pulls out and rolls to his back. Jared turns right into him, because it’s now unnatural for them to not touch after sex and he wants to be there. Cradled against Jensen’s chest and their legs twined together. Jensen’s hand sweeps through Jared’s hair with care, pushing it off his forehead.

Jared’s breathing is finally stable and he lets out a content sigh. He burrows himself closer to Jensen and smiles. “Thank you,” he lets out.

*

That Friday, Jared’s playing just as hot as he’s been but the excitement is at an all-time high and everyone’s giddy with the infectious mood as they’re beating Jimmy’s Pub 4-0. When Jared’s taking a routine grounder, he tosses it to Gabe at second with a little high pitched “Heyo!” and Gabe’s laughing as he easily grabs it. He tags the bag then spins to launch the ball over to Chad for the double play to end the inning. The next inning, he does much the same thing. Scoop up the softball, make a ridiculous noise (a distinct ‘hi-ya!’) and fires the ball off at Chad, who easily catches it for the out.

The whole team is playing ridiculously - well good, yes, but they’re all jumping around and making jokes on the field, being so incredibly loud. It’s getting to the point that other people are watching, namely other teams who are now joining the crowd to see what all the mêlée is about. And the only thing anyone can tell is that the Gamecocks have totally lost their minds and Jared is leading them into uncertain danger. On the field, most everyone is perfectly slotting into place while Jared and Gabe are chasing after the same balls, laughing at each other, and just narrowly avoiding collisions. And it’s continuing to amuse everyone.

They’re easily winning the game, so it’s not a big deal to be so goofy. It’s not quite as strict as all the slaughter rules they’ve been handing down, but they’re up by five runs going into the bottom of the fifth and Jared’s feeling good at bat. Jeff’s hanging out on second, pointing fingers with a giant smile for his brother, and just waiting to be pushed home. Jared’s laughing at the plate, casually glancing around and he spots the competition taking it all in and he just beams. Because he likes that they’re all watching. He doesn’t care if they all think he’s crazy. Because he’s fucking enjoying himself and it’s awesome to be winning.

He sets and watches the pitch come in a bit high and fast, so he lets it soar right past him out the strike zone for a ball. He takes one step out of the box, laughing at Dwayne as first base coach. The guy's mocking Jared’s batting rituals, swinging his arms down low like he’s got a bat and then sharply bringing it back and shaking his head back and forth. Jared doesn’t even care, he’s enjoying it and swings the bat low anyway. In a flash he catches Jensen leaning on the last rung of bleachers, arms folded on the top of the seat and grinning. Jared grins right back and goes so far as to wink at his boyfriend, floored to all of heaven because this is the first time he’s seen him at a game. He’s never even asked because for as much as he talks about softball with the guys, he just goes about his business with Jensen and deals with everything else between them.

So, he’s ready and amped and waiting, but the next pitch is a bit too far out and he lets it land for another ball to bring the count to 2-0. Jared steps back again, looks over to Jensen, and smirks. But the lips start to drag down when he sees Tom and Mike just beside him and Jensen nods at them when they say something.

Jared takes a deep breath, trying to will it away, because he’s been on cloud nine all day and they’ve been playing on autopilot, this is no time to do something wrong. He sweeps the bat low, brings it up, and finally swings at the pitch, launching it just over short center’s head. Jeff’s off the minute Jared smacked the ball and Jared’s running himself to first. He can see Jensen clapping from the corner of his eye. Jared’s trying to keep an eye on the center fielder coming in to grab the ball, but then he hears Dwayne calling “No, no, no, no!” as he’s heading to to second. It’s then that he realizes the center fielder already had the ball and is running in to throw to second. Jared puts the breaks on, feeling a distinct snap at his right ankle with the quick stop. He pivots back and realizes he’s a good fifteen feet from first and the fielders are barreling down on him, armed with the ball.

Dwayne crouches low and smacks the ground with his palms. “Get back! C’mon!”

Jared twists up to his left foot, takes three quick, painful steps, trying so hard to dig those cleats into the dirt for leverage. He then kicks the last step out so he can slide headfirst into the base, his fingers stretched so far and eventually closing around the corner of the first. When Dwayne pounds on the dirt again, he knows he’s out. He can’t manage anything more than rolling to his back and breathing heavily, panting with anxiety of the whole thing. And he realizes that maybe that was why he never asked Jensen to come to a game, because the minute he saw him, he knows he lost track of trying to just score a fucking run and instead wanted to go crazy for his boyfriend, stretching a single into a double. Instead, he twisted his ankle and was still out to end the inning.

Dwayne grabs at his shoulders to help him up and dust him off. “C’mon, asshole. We got three more outs,” he says unkindly.

“Fuck,” Jared shouts, smacking his hands into the dirt before he gets to his feet. His ankle feels a little shaky, and it’s piercing with a bit of pain. But he’s played through worse and there’s just one inning left. Maybe no one will hit the ball at him.

But they do, of course. As if they know he’s playing injured and suddenly off focus as he’s resting more weight on his left than his right, and when he has a chance, he looks over to Jensen who has a hat on backwards and is watching everything on the field. Not just Jared, but Chad as he edges closer to a runner, waiting for Jeff to toss the ball over. Or each and every pitch Jeff tosses over the plate. Or how Gabe inches himself to his left when a lefty’s up to bat. And it’s bothering Jared that he can’t stop watching Jensen watch the game. He should like that his boyfriend cares enough to see through every play and know what it all means. But it’s really taking up a majority of his concentration to see it happen.

He’s able to field two balls for outs, but the guy on first had gotten the better of him, making him shift to the side and limp to his left foot bad enough that he misthrew to Chad. The next batter launches a ball far and clear to left-center, perfectly picking a spot that neither of the outfielders can get to quickly. Jared steps up to the edge of the grass and waits for the cutoff throw while the runner from first sprints his way towards home and he hears the solid footsteps of the batter heading to second. The ball gets launched to Jared and he hears the runner pass him. As soon as the ball touches his hands, he’s turning and firing it home, ignoring the pinch in his ankle yet again. John’s scooping it off the dirt, but it’s too late.

The batter collects his inside-the-park homerun and the whole team cheers over it. Jimmy’s Pub is just three down with one out . They’re pumping each other up and egging one another on to keep it going.

Jared’s huffing and planting hands at his hips, wanting to yell at someone, but it’s not like he didn’t do what he could or anyone else for that matter. The guy got a rocket on that ball and just ran like the wind.

The next batter, much like the others, smacks a grounder between Jared and Dwayne. Jared turns right and feels a tweak of muscle fire off more pain and he’s trying, so hard, to get through this because they just need two more outs. But he bumbles the ball and Dwayne grabs at it to salvage the whole thing and avoid the guy running to second for free. Next guy? Same spot, and when Jared starts to shuffle over, Dwayne yells loudly and angrily, “Got it!” He charges the ball, grabs, glances at second, and sees there’s no chance to cut off that guy. He throws it to Chad to get that guy out. When he gets back near third base, he levels a finger at Jared. “You don’t fucking move.”

Jared wants to yell back and get angry, but he knows he shouldn’t have gone after that grounder, he knows it was closer to Dwayne. But he's still running on all that crazy energy he’s been carrying for weeks that makes him believe he can and subsequently actually is able to handle any ball hit on his side of the infield. And more than that, he’s trying to make good plays to prove he’s okay. Instead he just huffs, “Shit,” to himself.

To ease himself, he looks out to the stands and sees Jensen. The guy is still standing near Tom and Mike and at one point he turns towards them and says something. And it’s then that Jared realizes he’s wearing a bright blue tee, the same as all of Going Deep. “What the fuck?” he whispers while he’s looking and paying so little attention to anything else on the field that he’s shot with a line drive right in the chest.

The pain pierces his ribcage and he stumbles back on his ass then sees the softball bouncing right in front of him. With all the noise around him, he realizes it’s in play so he grabs it and backarms it to Dwayne to get the runner out at third.

The game is over and they’ve won, but no one is exactly happy. It should’ve been easier in that last inning and they know Jared’s off. Which, as infectious as his good moods are, his bad ones are even worse. So they’re all weird and a little crabby. Dwayne yanks at Jared’s arm to get him off the dirt but doesn’t say another word to him. Chad smacks a hand at the back of his head when they’re closer. “You fuck up your ankle?”

“Yeah,” he huffs out, still not sure what’s going on. As he walks through the line and hands out ‘good game’ to everyone, his other hand is stroking his chest where the ball is still stinging inside. Once he’s done, he doesn’t turn to his team like they always do, sharing their own fives. Jared practically stalks off the field and to the bleachers. As he closes in on Jensen, the guys from Going Deep seem to turn to something more interesting like they don’t recognize that Jared is right there.

Jensen’s hand pats over Jared’s, still on his chest. “You okay?” he’s smirking. “That had to hurt like a bitch.”

Jared tugs at the middle of Jensen’s shirt, like he wants to better read the words. Going Deep in big red letters, outlined in white. Jensen looks down to what Jared’s staring at and it’s obvious he’s confused. “What is this?” Jared asks quietly.

“It’s my shirt,” he replies with a ‘duh’ quality to his tone.

Jared looks up to the guys around them, to Tom and Mike and Aldis and Aaron and everyone else he would like to see die in a fiery plane crash. Then he looks back to Jensen, the guy he spends all his free time with and loves and says and does the most intimate things with. “You’re on their team.” It’s not even a question, because Jared cannot believe it at the moment and is too bewildered to even say it properly.

He’s not sure what else happens, but he does hear Jensen ask, “Jare, what’s up?” like he always does when he’s confused by Jared’s behavior. Jared ignores everyone else around them, sighs, and walks away. He meets up with his team on the other side of the dugout as they’re all getting their equipment together and changing out cleats.

Chad looks up as he passes, grabs his arm. “Everything okay?”

But Jared ignores that, too, and just grabs his things so he can get away from the field and Going Deep and the idea that his boyfriend plays for the enemy.

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