sslyricwheel challenge finally done!!!
Title: Over
Pairing: Jose Reyes/David Wright
Rating: Let's be safe and go with R for language
Word Count: 1,583
Disclaimer: This story is in no way, shape, or form even remotely true. I do not own anything or anyone. And the characters are based very loosely on real people. No money made or harm intended.
Author's Notes: 1. For the sslyricwheel "First Times" challenge. This is also my first time doing this, so forgive me if it's bad and/or corny.
2. The story takes place on 9/30/08 after the Mets lost to the Marlins, thus losing the NL Wild Card to the Brewers.
3. The lyrics are "Life Got in the Way" by Sister Hazel, sent to me by sandbenders
1:30 am. David sat on his couch staring at a blank tv screen, not sure what else to do with himself. He had briefly entertained the idea of watching Sportscenter, but he didn’t want to relive the painful memories of another post season berth squandered. And the thought of watching the Brewers happily spray each other with champagne and beer made vomit rise to his throat. So he sat in darkness. His head throbbed and his eyes ached from crying. It hadn’t been until he was safely in the confines of his apartment that he allowed the tears, that had been threatening throughout the post game interviews, the goodbyes to his teammates, and the drive home, to fall, as he sat on the couch, put his head in his hands, and whispered, “It’s over.”
When the knock came on the door, he knew it could only be one person. Still, he tiptoed to the door, to avoid having to answer if he chose not to, and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, his intuition was right. Jose.
He looked like heaven and hell at the same time, and David silently berated himself for thinking such a cliché thought. He had blood shot eyes and a tear stained face that matched David’s own. He was wearing baggy jeans and an oversized hoodie that David realized was one of his own that he must have left at Jose’s place once upon a time. He looked good in it, too good. In his right hand, he held a bottle of vodka with a couple gulps already missing.
Against his better judgment, David opened the door and wordlessly walked into the kitchen. Behind him he heard Jose ease the door shut and lock the deadbolt before following him and selecting two shot glasses from the cabinet while David grabbed two beers to chase the shots with. They sat wordlessly on David’s couch and began the ‘post epic loss’ drinking ritual. A couple shots and several long pulls of beer later, David finally broke the silence.
“This fuckin’ sucks,” he said.
“Yeah, it does.”
“I don’t know what’s worse. Last year because we completely blew it, or this year because we couldn’t make it right.”
Jose just hummed in agreement. He didn’t have much to say and David couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. So many unspoken things still hung in the air between them and it was only a matter of time before they came out.
A few shots later and David found Jose staring at him. He raised his eyebrows at Jose as if to say, ‘What’s on your mind?’ After a long silence, Jose spoke.
“Remember last year?”
Of course David remembered last year. There was no reason why they shouldn’t have won the NL East, but somehow it all fell apart. One of the worst collapses in sports history, so they say. They screwed up and instead of celebrating they were packing. Same as this year. But David knew Jose well enough to know that that wasn’t what he was referring to.
“Yeah, I remember. How could I forget?”
After the crushing loss of the last game, David had grabbed Jose’s arm in the clubhouse and said, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” So Jose came over, they drank too much, and like so many times before, Jose led David to the bedroom. The two infielders spent the whole night seeking solace in one another for the anger and pain tearing them apart. The sex was hard and fast, like it often was after a bad loss, and they took turns topping over and over throughout the night. They bit and scratched, moaned and practically screamed, finding a release for the frustration and disappointment of the past month. It wasn’t until dawn that they finally gave in to exhaustion, sleeping late, and not showing up to Shea until late afternoon to clear their lockers. For once, they were actually relieved to not be playing, so they wouldn’t have to worry about raising eyebrows in the showers with their matching bite and scratch marks.
David shook his head to try to clear his alcohol fuzzy mind of the memories of last year and said, “Why bring that up anyway?”
Jose looked at him with such intensity that it made David’s pulse quicken. He reached to rub the back of David’s neck and whispered, “That night…. I wanted you so much, just…. Like I do right now.”
“No. We can’t”, he replied, shrugging away from Jose’s touch.
“Why not?”
“You know why.” He bolted off the couch and headed to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors, not looking for anything in particular. He just needed to get away from Jose, to take himself out of the situation. He had never turned Jose down before, but now he had to find the will to do it or he’d never forgive himself.
Back in July when Jose told him he’d be getting married at the end of the month, David knew it was over. He always knew Jose would marry the girl one day, she was the mother of his children after all. But a small part of him always secretly hoped that one day, after baseball, they’d find a place where no one knew them and grow old together. It was a stupid, childish thing to hope for, but David couldn’t help it.
He told Jose he supported his decision, but their friendship would have to go back to being platonic. He felt guilty enough fucking someone’s boyfriend, someone’s father, but he couldn’t face himself in the mirror if he were fucking someone’s husband. Still, when Jose came to him the night before his wedding, David couldn’t find the resolve to say no to him. But he had to now.
Before David could collect his thoughts, he found himself face to face with Jose in the kitchen. Jose reached out and grabbed David’s hip, pulling him closer. He leaned in and kissed David, and before he could stop himself David was kissing back, opening his mouth to allow entrance to Jose’s gentle but insistent tongue. But just as Jose’s hands slid down to David’s waistband, David’s conscience kicked in and he jumped back as if burned.
“This isn’t last year. We can’t fuck away our problems like nothing’s changed.”
“Nothing has changed, David.”
“You know that’s not true; everything’s changed. You’re married. You chose her.”
“Is that what this is about? Yeah, I’m married, but that doesn’t change how much I feel for you, how much I want you. You’re the only one I can come to at a time like this. I need this. I need you.”
The tone in his voice was insistent and full of want. David shuddered at the thought of the many things Jose had said to him in the past in this same tone. Jose picked up on David’s stuttered breath and continued to speak, stepping forward to close the space between them.
“Tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me anymore, and I’ll never bring it up again.” David could feel Jose’s warm breath on his face, and closed his eyes, wanting so badly to give in. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.
“You know I can’t do that. But this isn’t about what I want; it’s about being able to live with myself. Shit, if I didn’t have a conscience this would be so easy, but I can’t just forget that you have a family waiting at home for you.”
“Fine, maybe I’ll have to find someone else then.”
“But that’s the thing, Jose, I know you won’t. I know you’ll be faithful to her if I’m not in the picture.” David knew he was right, but just in case he knew he couldn’t let Jose leave in the state he was in. “Just stay tonight, ok? In the guest room though. You’re in no shape to make it home after all we drank.” He wanted to say ‘I can’t have that on my conscience too’, but he left it at that. He showed Jose to the room and walked away before Jose could get another word in that could convince him to change his mind.
With Jose getting settled in the guest room, David retired to his own room. As soon as he closed his bedroom door, he leaned against it and turned the lock, not so much to keep Jose out, but rather to keep himself in. David had always liked to daydream and relive the many firsts he shared with Jose: their first kiss, the first time they made it to the post season, the first time they said “I love you”, the first time they made love. But this first wasn’t a memory meant for the mental scrapbook. It was the first time David had ever turned Jose down. He prayed he wouldn’t be tested a second time; he didn’t know if he had the will power to pass.
He knew he did the right thing, but that hardly eased the sorrow he was feeling at the moment, after the way both his season and his relationship with Jose came to painful conclusions in the same night. He was physically and emotionally exhausted and welcomed the oblivion sleep would bring. David lay down in bed, turned out the light, and as he pulled the covers up, he put his head in his hands and whispered, “It’s over.”
Pairing: Jose Reyes/David Wright
Rating: Let's be safe and go with R for language
Word Count: 1,583
Disclaimer: This story is in no way, shape, or form even remotely true. I do not own anything or anyone. And the characters are based very loosely on real people. No money made or harm intended.
Author's Notes: 1. For the sslyricwheel "First Times" challenge. This is also my first time doing this, so forgive me if it's bad and/or corny.
2. The story takes place on 9/30/08 after the Mets lost to the Marlins, thus losing the NL Wild Card to the Brewers.
3. The lyrics are "Life Got in the Way" by Sister Hazel, sent to me by sandbenders
1:30 am. David sat on his couch staring at a blank tv screen, not sure what else to do with himself. He had briefly entertained the idea of watching Sportscenter, but he didn’t want to relive the painful memories of another post season berth squandered. And the thought of watching the Brewers happily spray each other with champagne and beer made vomit rise to his throat. So he sat in darkness. His head throbbed and his eyes ached from crying. It hadn’t been until he was safely in the confines of his apartment that he allowed the tears, that had been threatening throughout the post game interviews, the goodbyes to his teammates, and the drive home, to fall, as he sat on the couch, put his head in his hands, and whispered, “It’s over.”
When the knock came on the door, he knew it could only be one person. Still, he tiptoed to the door, to avoid having to answer if he chose not to, and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, his intuition was right. Jose.
He looked like heaven and hell at the same time, and David silently berated himself for thinking such a cliché thought. He had blood shot eyes and a tear stained face that matched David’s own. He was wearing baggy jeans and an oversized hoodie that David realized was one of his own that he must have left at Jose’s place once upon a time. He looked good in it, too good. In his right hand, he held a bottle of vodka with a couple gulps already missing.
Against his better judgment, David opened the door and wordlessly walked into the kitchen. Behind him he heard Jose ease the door shut and lock the deadbolt before following him and selecting two shot glasses from the cabinet while David grabbed two beers to chase the shots with. They sat wordlessly on David’s couch and began the ‘post epic loss’ drinking ritual. A couple shots and several long pulls of beer later, David finally broke the silence.
“This fuckin’ sucks,” he said.
“Yeah, it does.”
“I don’t know what’s worse. Last year because we completely blew it, or this year because we couldn’t make it right.”
Jose just hummed in agreement. He didn’t have much to say and David couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. So many unspoken things still hung in the air between them and it was only a matter of time before they came out.
A few shots later and David found Jose staring at him. He raised his eyebrows at Jose as if to say, ‘What’s on your mind?’ After a long silence, Jose spoke.
“Remember last year?”
Of course David remembered last year. There was no reason why they shouldn’t have won the NL East, but somehow it all fell apart. One of the worst collapses in sports history, so they say. They screwed up and instead of celebrating they were packing. Same as this year. But David knew Jose well enough to know that that wasn’t what he was referring to.
“Yeah, I remember. How could I forget?”
After the crushing loss of the last game, David had grabbed Jose’s arm in the clubhouse and said, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” So Jose came over, they drank too much, and like so many times before, Jose led David to the bedroom. The two infielders spent the whole night seeking solace in one another for the anger and pain tearing them apart. The sex was hard and fast, like it often was after a bad loss, and they took turns topping over and over throughout the night. They bit and scratched, moaned and practically screamed, finding a release for the frustration and disappointment of the past month. It wasn’t until dawn that they finally gave in to exhaustion, sleeping late, and not showing up to Shea until late afternoon to clear their lockers. For once, they were actually relieved to not be playing, so they wouldn’t have to worry about raising eyebrows in the showers with their matching bite and scratch marks.
David shook his head to try to clear his alcohol fuzzy mind of the memories of last year and said, “Why bring that up anyway?”
Jose looked at him with such intensity that it made David’s pulse quicken. He reached to rub the back of David’s neck and whispered, “That night…. I wanted you so much, just…. Like I do right now.”
“No. We can’t”, he replied, shrugging away from Jose’s touch.
“Why not?”
“You know why.” He bolted off the couch and headed to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors, not looking for anything in particular. He just needed to get away from Jose, to take himself out of the situation. He had never turned Jose down before, but now he had to find the will to do it or he’d never forgive himself.
Back in July when Jose told him he’d be getting married at the end of the month, David knew it was over. He always knew Jose would marry the girl one day, she was the mother of his children after all. But a small part of him always secretly hoped that one day, after baseball, they’d find a place where no one knew them and grow old together. It was a stupid, childish thing to hope for, but David couldn’t help it.
He told Jose he supported his decision, but their friendship would have to go back to being platonic. He felt guilty enough fucking someone’s boyfriend, someone’s father, but he couldn’t face himself in the mirror if he were fucking someone’s husband. Still, when Jose came to him the night before his wedding, David couldn’t find the resolve to say no to him. But he had to now.
Before David could collect his thoughts, he found himself face to face with Jose in the kitchen. Jose reached out and grabbed David’s hip, pulling him closer. He leaned in and kissed David, and before he could stop himself David was kissing back, opening his mouth to allow entrance to Jose’s gentle but insistent tongue. But just as Jose’s hands slid down to David’s waistband, David’s conscience kicked in and he jumped back as if burned.
“This isn’t last year. We can’t fuck away our problems like nothing’s changed.”
“Nothing has changed, David.”
“You know that’s not true; everything’s changed. You’re married. You chose her.”
“Is that what this is about? Yeah, I’m married, but that doesn’t change how much I feel for you, how much I want you. You’re the only one I can come to at a time like this. I need this. I need you.”
The tone in his voice was insistent and full of want. David shuddered at the thought of the many things Jose had said to him in the past in this same tone. Jose picked up on David’s stuttered breath and continued to speak, stepping forward to close the space between them.
“Tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me anymore, and I’ll never bring it up again.” David could feel Jose’s warm breath on his face, and closed his eyes, wanting so badly to give in. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.
“You know I can’t do that. But this isn’t about what I want; it’s about being able to live with myself. Shit, if I didn’t have a conscience this would be so easy, but I can’t just forget that you have a family waiting at home for you.”
“Fine, maybe I’ll have to find someone else then.”
“But that’s the thing, Jose, I know you won’t. I know you’ll be faithful to her if I’m not in the picture.” David knew he was right, but just in case he knew he couldn’t let Jose leave in the state he was in. “Just stay tonight, ok? In the guest room though. You’re in no shape to make it home after all we drank.” He wanted to say ‘I can’t have that on my conscience too’, but he left it at that. He showed Jose to the room and walked away before Jose could get another word in that could convince him to change his mind.
With Jose getting settled in the guest room, David retired to his own room. As soon as he closed his bedroom door, he leaned against it and turned the lock, not so much to keep Jose out, but rather to keep himself in. David had always liked to daydream and relive the many firsts he shared with Jose: their first kiss, the first time they made it to the post season, the first time they said “I love you”, the first time they made love. But this first wasn’t a memory meant for the mental scrapbook. It was the first time David had ever turned Jose down. He prayed he wouldn’t be tested a second time; he didn’t know if he had the will power to pass.
He knew he did the right thing, but that hardly eased the sorrow he was feeling at the moment, after the way both his season and his relationship with Jose came to painful conclusions in the same night. He was physically and emotionally exhausted and welcomed the oblivion sleep would bring. David lay down in bed, turned out the light, and as he pulled the covers up, he put his head in his hands and whispered, “It’s over.”