[fanfiction] baseball rps
So back in April pynk_spyder and I decided that there should be fic about Clint Barmes playing matchmaker for Matt Holliday and Troy Tulowitzki. This is what came out of my brain; apologies for any awfulness. (Sincerest apologies to all boys featured for the destruction of their characters. Jeff Francis in particular now owns my soul.)
Find Me a Find
Baseball RPS; Matt Holliday/Troy Tulowitzki, Todd Helton/Clint Barmes; PG-13
1640 words
This is not real.
“So,” Clint says as he leans against the fence during batting practice. “Matt, huh?”
Troy sighs and runs his fingers along his bat, his eyes focused on Holliday. “Yeah.” Then his head pops up and whirls around to stare at Clint. “Wait, what?”
Clint cannot resist smirking. “Too late. You’ve confessed.”
“Confessed to what?”
“You have a thing for Holliday.”
Troy’s mouth hangs open. “Excuse me?” he hisses. “You said his name and I said yeah and that means I have a thing for him? What kind of logic is that?”
“It’s okay.” Clint reassuringly pats Troy’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Barmes!” Helton’s bark sounds from the steps. “Get your ass over here!”
Clint springs away from the fence. “Coming!” He turns to pat Troy’s shoulder again. “I’ve got to go. Helt wants my, uh, ass over there. But I’ll be back to help.”
Troy watches him go with his hands in the air. “Figure what out?”
Clint does not say anything as he follows Helton through the clubhouse and into the humidor. He only opens his mouth when Helton’s is pressed against it and then the only thing he wants to say is Ow as his head knocks against the wall. His body is held still as Helton is pressed into him and he quickly forgets the pain.
Helton kisses Clint’s neck and Clint closes his eyes. “Hey, I think Tulo likes Holliday.” He doesn’t declare is as fact because, okay, maybe his “confession” hasn’t been that solid.
“Doesn’t everyone like Holliday?” Helton licks Clint’s collarbone.
“No, I mean like-like. Like-” Clint pauses to gasp as Helton bites down. “Like wants to fuck his brains out.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Helton repeats. He taps Clint’s hip. “Turn around.”
Clint faces the wall and reaches down to help pull of his pants. “Well, yeah, but I think Holliday might like him back. Because wouldn’t you want Troy?”
“If I wanted Troy then I would have him.”
Of course he would. He’s Todd Helton. “But if you were Holliday isn’t Troy the person you’d want? He’s pretty touchy about the kid.”
Todd grunts as he slides his hand down Clint’s back. “I guess.” His hand moves around to Clint’s stomach and starts to dip lower.
“Oh.”
Both men turn to see Jeff standing in the doorway.
“What?” Helton snaps.
“I just wanted to grab some balls.” His eyes move to Clint’s waist and he winces. He points to the boxes of baseball. “The kind I throw.”
Helton waves his hands in a hurry-up motion. “Well?” he huffs.
Jeff quickly grabs some boxes and drops them into his bag before running out the door. Clint shakes his head and reaches back to pull Todd closer to him. “We’ve got to get a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for that door.”
When he’s finished in the humidor Clint straightens out his clothes and heads off to search for Troy. He finds him walking away from batting practice and Clint easily falls into stop with him. “Hey.”
“All I said was yeah,” Troy mutters.
“Methinks you doth protest too much. . .” Or whatever.
Troy bares his teeth and growls.
“Oh, don’t get so worked up. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get into Matt’s pants.”
“I don’t-”
Clint grabs Troy’s arm and yanks him into the dugout and down a hallway. “Look, you might as well just admit it. Do you want me to help you or what?”
Troy struggles to get away but Clint maintains the grip on his arm. So instead he sighs and stares at his feet. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me.”
Clint grins and releases Troy’s arm. “That’s why you need my help. Like I said, we’ll figure something out.”
“So,” Clint says as he sidles up to Matt before the game starts. “Troy, huh?”
Matt stares down at Clint. “What about him?”
Not the answer he was looking for. “He’s some guy, isn’t he?”
“Sure.” Matt shrugs. “Why?”
“He’s kind of special, don’t you think?”
“Where are you going with this, Clint? Because we’ve got a game to play.”
Clint shakes his head and backs away. “Right. Never mind. It’s not important.” He bites his bottom lip as he walks over to Troy, who’s shooting nervous smiles at everyone who passes.
“So?”
Clint sighs. “It didn’t work.”
“What didn’t work?”
“We’ll have to go to plan B.”
Troy nods. “What is it?” He frowns. “And what, exactly, was plan A?”
Clint ignores the questions partly because he doesn’t see the point of dwelling on failure and partly because he doesn’t have answers.
“Hey, what’s up with you and Francis? He keeps giving you strange looks.”
“He’s probably just jealous.” Clint shrugs and then he grins and turns to Troy.
“Jealous of what?”
“It doesn’t matter. But we have to meet after the game to work on plan B. It’s brillian, I swear.”
“This is so stupid.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.” Troy punctuates his words by folding his arms across his chest. “How can this possibly work?”
They’re in the parking lot after the game, hovering between Clint’s car and Matt’s. He’d hoped that having won the game would help Troy’s mood but instead he’s being uncooperative.
“Look, all you have to do is let me kiss you and then when Matt comes he’ll get jealous and fight me for you or something.” It really is a brilliant plan, although Clint hopes that any fight will be of the verbal variety because he’s not sure he wants to face the fists of an angry Matt Holliday.
“I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“Why are you being so negative?”
Troy opens his mouth to argue - God, why does he always have to argue? - but there’s the sound of approaching footsteps and his eyes widen. “Someone’s coming.”
Well, they have to go through with the plan now, don’t they? So Clint leans forward and presses his mouth to Troy’s. He nearly chokes in surprise when not only does Troy not push him away but he actually kisses him back. And hey, it’s not that bad, and maybe this will look real enough to work after all.
Someone clears their throat and Clint jumps back, a guilty expression easily appearing on his face. “Oh, sorry, Ma- Oh shit.”
This was a stupid plan.
“Hi, Todd,” Troy says, the tension seeping out of his body and right into Clint’s.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Clint blurts out.
“It looks like you were making out with Tulo after a victory.” The when you’re mine is implied but not said, although the victory has nothing to do with that, or anything, for that matter. He’s always Todd’s.
Todd doesn’t say anything, just stares at him like he’s got the power of a god, which, oh yeah.
“It’s his fault!” Clint jabs Troy with his finger and then pulls his hand away just as quickly. Extraneous touching is not going to help his case.
“My fault? It was your idea!”
“It’s just to help him out, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Do what to who?”
Troy covers his face with his hand. “Oh shit.”
Stupid, stupid plan.
“They were making out,” Todd says, pointing at the two guilty parties, despite their being no one else around.
Matt blinks and stares at Clint and then Troy. “Huh.”
“It’s not like that,” Clint offers weakly.
“Clint is an idiot,” Troy mutters. He glares at Clint and suddenly he looks less terrified and more angry. To be specific, more angry at Clint.
Matt shrugs and walks over to his car door, nudging Clint out of the way. “Your funeral,” he mutters.
Clint wants to jump in the car with him and escape forever because as unappealing as Matt’s fists might be they’re still better than Todd’s silent wrath. And that’s what he’s going to be dealing with for the rest of the season if he doesn’t defend himself.
There’s only one quick way to do that.
“Troy likes you,” he says as Matt’s about to close the door.
Troy squeaks in a remarkably shrilly tone and Matt freezes.
“We were trying to get your attention by making you jealous.”
“It was all him,” Troy declares.
“It was. I sometimes have stupid ideas.”
“No shit,” Todd mutters as he taps his foot. Impatience is a good sign. It most likely means, “Let’s get a move on so I can fuck Clint’s brains out and still get a decent night’s sleep.”
Troy leans over the car door and stares at Matt. “And I never actually said I liked you.”
“Shut up. You did say so.”
“Did not.”
“What are you, five? The point is, you want to do Matt, and I’m pretty sure that he wants to do you, too. Am I right?”
Matt mouth tries to make a noncommittal response but what comes out is far too enthusiastic for that and sounds like “Hell yeah.” Troy starts to breathe a little faster and Clint realizes that the best place he can be is not there so he steps back and reaches out to grab Todd’s hand. “See? It was all his fault.”
Helton does not actually tell Clint to shut up, but his actions get the message across just fine.
Find Me a Find
Baseball RPS; Matt Holliday/Troy Tulowitzki, Todd Helton/Clint Barmes; PG-13
1640 words
This is not real.
“So,” Clint says as he leans against the fence during batting practice. “Matt, huh?”
Troy sighs and runs his fingers along his bat, his eyes focused on Holliday. “Yeah.” Then his head pops up and whirls around to stare at Clint. “Wait, what?”
Clint cannot resist smirking. “Too late. You’ve confessed.”
“Confessed to what?”
“You have a thing for Holliday.”
Troy’s mouth hangs open. “Excuse me?” he hisses. “You said his name and I said yeah and that means I have a thing for him? What kind of logic is that?”
“It’s okay.” Clint reassuringly pats Troy’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Barmes!” Helton’s bark sounds from the steps. “Get your ass over here!”
Clint springs away from the fence. “Coming!” He turns to pat Troy’s shoulder again. “I’ve got to go. Helt wants my, uh, ass over there. But I’ll be back to help.”
Troy watches him go with his hands in the air. “Figure what out?”
Clint does not say anything as he follows Helton through the clubhouse and into the humidor. He only opens his mouth when Helton’s is pressed against it and then the only thing he wants to say is Ow as his head knocks against the wall. His body is held still as Helton is pressed into him and he quickly forgets the pain.
Helton kisses Clint’s neck and Clint closes his eyes. “Hey, I think Tulo likes Holliday.” He doesn’t declare is as fact because, okay, maybe his “confession” hasn’t been that solid.
“Doesn’t everyone like Holliday?” Helton licks Clint’s collarbone.
“No, I mean like-like. Like-” Clint pauses to gasp as Helton bites down. “Like wants to fuck his brains out.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Helton repeats. He taps Clint’s hip. “Turn around.”
Clint faces the wall and reaches down to help pull of his pants. “Well, yeah, but I think Holliday might like him back. Because wouldn’t you want Troy?”
“If I wanted Troy then I would have him.”
Of course he would. He’s Todd Helton. “But if you were Holliday isn’t Troy the person you’d want? He’s pretty touchy about the kid.”
Todd grunts as he slides his hand down Clint’s back. “I guess.” His hand moves around to Clint’s stomach and starts to dip lower.
“Oh.”
Both men turn to see Jeff standing in the doorway.
“What?” Helton snaps.
“I just wanted to grab some balls.” His eyes move to Clint’s waist and he winces. He points to the boxes of baseball. “The kind I throw.”
Helton waves his hands in a hurry-up motion. “Well?” he huffs.
Jeff quickly grabs some boxes and drops them into his bag before running out the door. Clint shakes his head and reaches back to pull Todd closer to him. “We’ve got to get a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for that door.”
When he’s finished in the humidor Clint straightens out his clothes and heads off to search for Troy. He finds him walking away from batting practice and Clint easily falls into stop with him. “Hey.”
“All I said was yeah,” Troy mutters.
“Methinks you doth protest too much. . .” Or whatever.
Troy bares his teeth and growls.
“Oh, don’t get so worked up. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get into Matt’s pants.”
“I don’t-”
Clint grabs Troy’s arm and yanks him into the dugout and down a hallway. “Look, you might as well just admit it. Do you want me to help you or what?”
Troy struggles to get away but Clint maintains the grip on his arm. So instead he sighs and stares at his feet. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me.”
Clint grins and releases Troy’s arm. “That’s why you need my help. Like I said, we’ll figure something out.”
“So,” Clint says as he sidles up to Matt before the game starts. “Troy, huh?”
Matt stares down at Clint. “What about him?”
Not the answer he was looking for. “He’s some guy, isn’t he?”
“Sure.” Matt shrugs. “Why?”
“He’s kind of special, don’t you think?”
“Where are you going with this, Clint? Because we’ve got a game to play.”
Clint shakes his head and backs away. “Right. Never mind. It’s not important.” He bites his bottom lip as he walks over to Troy, who’s shooting nervous smiles at everyone who passes.
“So?”
Clint sighs. “It didn’t work.”
“What didn’t work?”
“We’ll have to go to plan B.”
Troy nods. “What is it?” He frowns. “And what, exactly, was plan A?”
Clint ignores the questions partly because he doesn’t see the point of dwelling on failure and partly because he doesn’t have answers.
“Hey, what’s up with you and Francis? He keeps giving you strange looks.”
“He’s probably just jealous.” Clint shrugs and then he grins and turns to Troy.
“Jealous of what?”
“It doesn’t matter. But we have to meet after the game to work on plan B. It’s brillian, I swear.”
“This is so stupid.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.” Troy punctuates his words by folding his arms across his chest. “How can this possibly work?”
They’re in the parking lot after the game, hovering between Clint’s car and Matt’s. He’d hoped that having won the game would help Troy’s mood but instead he’s being uncooperative.
“Look, all you have to do is let me kiss you and then when Matt comes he’ll get jealous and fight me for you or something.” It really is a brilliant plan, although Clint hopes that any fight will be of the verbal variety because he’s not sure he wants to face the fists of an angry Matt Holliday.
“I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“Why are you being so negative?”
Troy opens his mouth to argue - God, why does he always have to argue? - but there’s the sound of approaching footsteps and his eyes widen. “Someone’s coming.”
Well, they have to go through with the plan now, don’t they? So Clint leans forward and presses his mouth to Troy’s. He nearly chokes in surprise when not only does Troy not push him away but he actually kisses him back. And hey, it’s not that bad, and maybe this will look real enough to work after all.
Someone clears their throat and Clint jumps back, a guilty expression easily appearing on his face. “Oh, sorry, Ma- Oh shit.”
This was a stupid plan.
“Hi, Todd,” Troy says, the tension seeping out of his body and right into Clint’s.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Clint blurts out.
“It looks like you were making out with Tulo after a victory.” The when you’re mine is implied but not said, although the victory has nothing to do with that, or anything, for that matter. He’s always Todd’s.
Todd doesn’t say anything, just stares at him like he’s got the power of a god, which, oh yeah.
“It’s his fault!” Clint jabs Troy with his finger and then pulls his hand away just as quickly. Extraneous touching is not going to help his case.
“My fault? It was your idea!”
“It’s just to help him out, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Do what to who?”
Troy covers his face with his hand. “Oh shit.”
Stupid, stupid plan.
“They were making out,” Todd says, pointing at the two guilty parties, despite their being no one else around.
Matt blinks and stares at Clint and then Troy. “Huh.”
“It’s not like that,” Clint offers weakly.
“Clint is an idiot,” Troy mutters. He glares at Clint and suddenly he looks less terrified and more angry. To be specific, more angry at Clint.
Matt shrugs and walks over to his car door, nudging Clint out of the way. “Your funeral,” he mutters.
Clint wants to jump in the car with him and escape forever because as unappealing as Matt’s fists might be they’re still better than Todd’s silent wrath. And that’s what he’s going to be dealing with for the rest of the season if he doesn’t defend himself.
There’s only one quick way to do that.
“Troy likes you,” he says as Matt’s about to close the door.
Troy squeaks in a remarkably shrilly tone and Matt freezes.
“We were trying to get your attention by making you jealous.”
“It was all him,” Troy declares.
“It was. I sometimes have stupid ideas.”
“No shit,” Todd mutters as he taps his foot. Impatience is a good sign. It most likely means, “Let’s get a move on so I can fuck Clint’s brains out and still get a decent night’s sleep.”
Troy leans over the car door and stares at Matt. “And I never actually said I liked you.”
“Shut up. You did say so.”
“Did not.”
“What are you, five? The point is, you want to do Matt, and I’m pretty sure that he wants to do you, too. Am I right?”
Matt mouth tries to make a noncommittal response but what comes out is far too enthusiastic for that and sounds like “Hell yeah.” Troy starts to breathe a little faster and Clint realizes that the best place he can be is not there so he steps back and reaches out to grab Todd’s hand. “See? It was all his fault.”
Helton does not actually tell Clint to shut up, but his actions get the message across just fine.