Fic: The Thing About Belt
The Thing About Belt
by
telesilla
Baseball RPF, SF Giants, Brandon Belt/Hunter Pence, adult
content notes: no AO3 warnings apply
summary: The thing about Belt, Hunter thinks, isn't that he is, to put it crudely, easy. Hunter's known plenty of guys--ball players and otherwise--who sleep with just about anyone who's interested. No, the thing about Belt is that he's really upfront about it.
notes: Because I can't write SGA fic while watching the Giants....
Many thanks to Darkrose for looking this over and for being encouraging. Also, she's gone from "yeah whatever" when I ranted about baseball to having passionate feels about the DH, so clearly, she's awesome! I mention some of the wives and a girlfriend here, but the sexytimes involving them are implied and not explicit.
Read it @ AO3
August 31
@ Cubs L 4-6
The thing about Belt, Hunter thinks, isn't that he is, to put it crudely, easy. Hunter's known plenty of guys--ball players and otherwise--who sleep with just about anyone who's interested. No, the thing about Belt is that he's really upfront about it.
"Don't worry about it," Belt says as Hunter zips up his pants. He's just told Belt....
Huh. Maybe he should start thinking of him as Brandon. Does an incredible blowjob trump baseball etiquette? Hunter's been blown by teammates before and he's never started thinking of them by their first names, but then again, none of those blowjobs had been anywhere near this good.
"No one will care if we go back at the same time." Belt--it's just safer to think of him that way, Hunter thinks--gets off his knees and checks Hunter over before opening the stall door.
The bathroom's empty; Hunter thinks he would have heard if someone came in, but still, it's nice have that confirmed. As he steps over to the sink counter, Belt goes on, his voice matter of fact.
"I'm kind of a slut; the guys are used to it."
"What about Haylee?" The minute Hunter says it, he wishes he hadn't. You just don't ask about wives in this situation.
Belt rolls his eyes. "I'm not Bum; I didn't marry the first person I slept with. Haylee might be my high school sweetheart," he says, making air quotes. "But she knows what I'm like and she's totally okay with it."
Hunter blinks; that's new. Savanna knows what he gets up to, but they've both been around the block a few times. And anyway, things are a little different with Savanna. Belt's right; Hunter just assumed Haylee was a sweet innocent Southern girl like Ali or Kristin or Chelsea. He wonders if he's wrong about them too.
"Sorry," he says, not really sure if he's apologizing for asking or for his assumptions.
"No problem."
Hunter looks him over, checking out the rather formidable bulge in Belt's tight Levis. "You sure you don't...?
"Well, if you want to come by my room later...." Belt licks his lower lip. "It's been a couple of days since anyone's fucked me."
Even as Hunter says, "yeah, that'd be great," he's mentally doing the math. Who the hell did Belt find to fuck him in Houston? Someone on the team? Someone from the Astros, maybe someone Hunter knows? Some guy in a bar? He's not sure he wants to know...well no, he totally wants to know.
"Cool. Ready?"
"Uh...yeah."
Belt's as streaky a hitter as Hunter and when they fail, there's a camera lens aimed right at them as they leave the box, so God knows they're both capable of keeping their feelings off their faces. Still, he would have expected Belt to blush a little or maybe stare at the bar's floor for a while, but no, Belt just grabs a couple of beers from the bar and settles at their table. Less than a minute later, he's talking to Romo about some movie he thinks Romo really needs to see.
No one even glances at Hunter let alone smirks at him. Either Belt was right and everyone's used to this kind of thing, or no one noticed. At Hunter's end of the table, Bum's telling some stupid dirty joke that requires more concentration than it deserves because his accent gets even worse when he's got a few beers in him.
"You wanna translate that for the rest of us?" Hunter asks Cain, pleased at how normal he sounds. Cain just snorts a little and drinks his root beer.
It's all so normal--a subdued evening after a loss in hotel bar with some of his teammates--and for a moment, Hunter wonders if he just imagined a quickie men's room blowjob from Belt. But no, he didn't and he can't help wondering who else on the team's been in this same situation. Baseball players fuck each other, of course, but the Giants are a team full of good 'ol Christian Southern boys and Catholic Venezuelans. Crawford maybe? Or Romo? He's got that whole meterosexual vibe going on. And, of course, Belt's proved that not all the good 'ol boys are actually good....
Could be almost anyone although Hunter does rule out Affeldt. In spite of the fact that he's genuinely religious, he's no homophobe, but Hunter's pretty sure he takes the whole monogamy thing seriously.
But everyone else?
It's the not knowing that's bugging him as he makes his way back to his room. Well, that and the visuals his mind is oh-so-helpfully providing. The idea of the two Brandons together? Hot. Romo and Belt? There's the size difference, but still, hot. Buster and Belt?
Okay no. Not Buster. Buster's about as square as it gets. He belongs in front of a flag as an example of all that is good and true about baseball and America. Too bad, really; Hunter's always had a bit of a weakness for the clean-cut All American type.
Hunter splashes water on his face and then heads for the door. Belt's kind of a trickster, he thinks. He's probably yanking Hunter's chain.
"Oh hey, c'mon in," Belt says as he opens his door. He's barefoot but otherwise still dressed and he looks perfectly relaxed. The other players Hunter's fooled around with have always been a little anxious and kind of wary at this point.
Maybe it's that he's not cheating on anyone, Hunter thinks.
"You okay with this?"
"Huh?" Hunter laughs. "Oh very smooth of me. Yeah, I'm good."
"I don't think anyone would use smooth to describe either of us."
"They should, about you at least."
"You're joking, right? You haven't been around all that long, but c'mon. You know why people wear those giraffe hats."
"Yeah but I've also watched you making some pretty sweet plays at first." Hunter feels his face heating up. He hadn't really intended to make it quite so obvious that he's been watching Belt.
Belt looks almost annoyed. "You don't have to...." He lets his voice trail off before adding. "I mean, I'd do this anyway."
"I know everyone thinks I'm weird and kind of a flake," Hunter says quietly. "But I'm not an asshole and I don't lie about people's playing. If I say you're a really good first baseman, I mean it."
"Sorry." Reaching up, Belt rubs the back of his neck. "It's just...guys say things and it's stupid really. I don't need to be convinced, you know? Like I said, I'm pretty slutty; I'll sleep with almost anyone."
"Just guys?"
"Mostly guys. Sometimes girls, but that's usually with Haylee."
Hunter raises an eyebrow and it's obvious Belt can tell what he's thinking. "It's not that she's jealous. She just really likes girls."
"That's convenient for both of you," Hunter says with a laugh. "I really did think you two were like Bum and Ali. Or, hey, for all I know, they're like you and Haylee."
"Could be," Belt says, exaggerating his drawl a little. "Are we really gonna stand around and gossip, or are you gonna fuck me?"
Hunter kind of wants to ask if they can do both, but clearly Belt has his priorities and really, Hunter's just fine with that. "Is that a trick question?"
Belt chuckles a little and Hunter moves forward until he's right up into Belt's space. Normally this would feel a little awkward, but it's oddly easy to reach out and run his hands up Belt's arms. He tugs a little, pulling Belt in a little closer. They're roughly the same height and Hunter's about to lean in for a kiss before he remembers something.
"Is kissing okay?"
"I dunno," Belt says. "It's kinda gay."
Hunter tries to think of something--anything-- to say because that's not what he expected to hear, but then Belt laughs. "But so am I, so yeah...."
Belt kisses like...well, to be honest, Belt kisses like no one Hunter's ever met. While most guys try to turn it into a whole dominance contest, Belt doesn't. He also doesn't rush it; he kisses Hunter like he's got all night to find out what Hunter likes. Of course, it's not like he needs too much time; he's got Hunter figured out pretty quickly. When his teeth nip at Hunter's lips, Hunter moans and grips Belt's arms tighter.
"Mmmm," Belt murmurs against Hunter's lips, before kissing him again. They're right up against each other and Hunter can feel Belt's hard on nudging up against his own. He almost loses it when Belt slides his hands into Hunter's back pockets and tugs him even closer.
As Hunter kisses Belt harder, he can't believe how turned on he is. Belt's grinding up against him and it's like the blow job never happened, like Hunter didn't come a couple of hours ago. He--and his dick--are more than ready for another round.
"Fuck," Belt mutters, pulling away just a little. "Fuck me right now or it'll be over before we really start."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Hunter leans in for one more quick kiss, before stepping back. He finally lets go of Belt's arms and winces a little. He's been gripping Belt hard enough that his fingers are a little tight.
"Sorry."
"For what?" Belt asks as he heads toward the bed.
Hunter follows him. "Your arms..I hope I didn't leave bruises."
"I hope you did."
"Oh really?"
"I like it when it gets a little rough."
"Jesus," Hunter says, pulling his shirt off as quickly as he can. "Are you for real?"
"I could ask the same thing," Belt says, looking at Hunter's chest.
Hunter knows he's not exactly the hottest guy on the team, but he works hard to keep in shape and he's pretty proud of his abs. "Flattery," he says, "will get you everywhere."
"I sure hope so." Belt strips down fast, his pants, boxers and shirt landing in a pile on the floor, and now it's Hunter's turn to look.
It's always been Hunter's opinion that the uni doesn't do Belt any favors. Oh sure, his ass looks fantastic and he's got some impressive calves, but he wears his jerseys loose enough to make him look bulky. In regular clothes or, even better, naked, he's still big but more in proportion.
All of him, Hunter thinks. He's seen Belt in the showers and of course he's checked Belt's dick out, but he's never seen it hard. It's...impressive. Hunter generally prefers to be on top, but he can't help wondering what it would be like if Belt fucked him with that monster.
"You going to just stand there and look?"
"Hey," Hunter says with a smirk. "There's a lot to look at."
Belt grins, that broad goofy grin that its almost impossible not to return, and God, but Hunter wants him in the worst way. Forgetting that he's still wearing his jeans, he moves back into Belt's space and grabs his biceps as tightly as he can. And then they're kissing again, Belt shoving up against him hard. The rough denim of Hunter's jeans has to be uncomfortable against Belt's dick, but if he doesn't care than Hunter doesn't either.
"God," Belt says, pulling his mouth away from Hunter's. "Fuck...I'm gonna come all over your jeans if we keep this up."
For half a second Hunter thinks that's a brilliant idea but then he thinks about walking back to his room with a big wet spot on the crotch of his pants. It's one thing for the guys to guess that Belt's blown him in the men's room--if anyone even noticed--and another to wander around an upscale hotel covered in come.
He steps back and toes his shoes off while unbuttoning his jeans. "You've got stuff," he says and it's not really a question.
"Yeah." Belt turns and bends down to dig in the duffle on the floor next to the bed and...whoa, his ass is right there.
"Don't move," Hunter says. He reaches out and runs a hand over one cheek before thumping down on his knees behind Belt.
"Huh?" is all Belt can get out before Hunter leans in and bites him. It's not easy--Belt's ass is all muscle--but Hunter does his best anyway, remembering what Belt said about bruises and liking it rough.
"Dude, I think you're taking that caveman diet thing a little too seriously," Belt says, his voice husky.
"Om nom nom," Hunter mumbles, his mouth moving against Belt's skin. Positioned as he is, it's easy enough to grab the thing of lube out of Belt's hand. Once he's got it, he gives Belt's ass one more bite and then sits back on his heels.
"We gonna do this here or on the bed?" Belt sounds like he's good either way and for a moment Hunter wants to just shove some lube in him and fuck him while Belt holds onto the nightstand. But no, there's rough and then there's the kind of rough you don't do with a guy you haven't fucked before.
"Bed," he says and just like that, Belt's rolling onto the bed. He looks incredibly awkward--all big shoulders and boney knees and elbows--and he really does look like a....
Well fuck, Hunter thinks. The last image he needs in his head while getting ready to fuck someone is one of those goddamned giraffe hats. He shakes his head a little, pops the cap on the bottle of lube and tries to concentrate. It gets easier once Belt gets settled on his hands and knees; Hunter moves behind him and there's that ass again. The bite mark is already red, but Hunter can't resist leaning down and biting the same spot.
"That okay?" he asks, as he slicks up his fingers.
"I said I like it...."
"Yeah, but one guy's rough is another guy's 'stop biting my ass.' And you're starting tomorrow."
"A little bite mark on my butt isn't going to slow me down," Belt says with a faint snort of amusement. "Neither is getting fucked."
"Subtle. Very subtle." Before Belt can answer, Hunter smacks the inside of his thigh. "If you want to get fucked...."
As soon as Belt spreads his legs, Hunter brushes a slick finger over his hole. Belt makes a soft little noise that should sound ridiculous but isn't; Hunter wants to hear it again. Teasing Belt with his thumb, he slides his fingers down over the smooth skin behind Belt's balls and yeah, there's that sound again.
Hunter keeps the tease up much longer than he normally would because watching Belt....
Fuck it, Belt is the guy who's all serious business on the field and all dorky joker in the locker room. The guy who's gasping and squirming under Hunter's touch is Brandon. Hunter's pretty sure he'll know the difference tomorrow.
So yeah, watching Brandon get more and more worked up is pretty amazing. Hunter does his best to ignore the other word that comes to mind, because "addictive" and "teammate" don't belong in the same sentence, let alone the same thought.
"C'mon...c'mon," Brandon mutters. "Driving me fucking crazy here."
"All part of my evil plan," Hunter says and then, before Brandon can say anything else, he he slowly presses a finger into Brandon.
"More."
Hunter grins; apparently slow isn't quite what Brandon wants. "Yeah?" he asks. "You sure?"
"No, of course I'm not," Brandon says, managing to sound both sarcastic and incredibly turned on. "C'mon damnit!"
Hunter pauses for just a moment and then shoves two fingers in hard.
"Oh fuck yeah," Brandon says and pushes back, like Hunter hasn't already gotten the message.
While Hunter's totally down with rough sex, he's not going to completely ignore the prep. He'll rush it though, particularly with the way Brandon's gasping and squirming. "Be still," he mutters, putting a hand on Brandon's hip while he twists his other fingers.
Brandon gasps sharply and goes completely still and Hunter's sure he's done something wrong, been too pushy or something. But no, Brandon slides his knees apart just a little more in what is a pretty strong indication that he wants Hunter to keep going.
So Hunter does; keeping his grip on Brandon's hip, he works the fingers of his other hand until Brandon's slick and ready. Brandon's panting now, harsh sounds that go right to Hunter's dick. Without thinking, Hunter slides his hand from Brandon's hip up his back. "Down," he says, pressing on Brandon's upper back.
Just like that, Brandon goes down onto his elbows. It's one hell of a sight and Hunter stares for a long moment before Brandon speaks. "C'mon," he says, his voice rough. "C'mon...please?"
"Please what?"
"You know...." Brandon pauses and then when Hunter doesn't move, he adds. "Fuck me...please?"
"There's just one thing," Hunter says.
"You fucker...."
Hunter pats him on the ass. "Oh, I'm gonna fuck you," he says. "It's just...where the hell are your rubbers?"
"Duffle bag," Brandon says. "Hurry the fuck up, Dude; I'm dyin' here."
"Nah," Hunter says, as he leans over the bed and digs around in the duffle bag. Brandon's shaving kit is open and there's a box of Trojans in it. It's half empty and as Hunter grabs one and sits back up, he wonders if it was full when they left San Francisco.
The thought that Brandon runs through a box of condoms on each roadie is oddly hot.
"You think you're dying now...." He has to use his teeth to open the package. God, he fucking hates condom packaging. It's like they don't want you to actually use the product. "Wait'll I get going."
"That gonna happen any time this year?"
Hunter waits until he's--finally--got the rubber on before slapping Brandon on the ass. "Quit mouthing off." Hunter can hear the intake of breath, like Brandon's going to say something else, but then he just shivers a little and remains silent.
Huh, Hunter thinks. He settles in behind Brandon and stares down at him for a moment. And then he's pushing into him and goddam, but Brandon's hot and tight and damn near perfect. It's not easy to move slowly, but Hunter really liked hearing Brandon beg earlier and he's hoping to hear it again.
"Oh yeah," Brandon says, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Fuck yeah...."
"Yeah?"
Hunter pulls back and then pushes back in slowly and then keeps to that pace, setting up a slow steady rhythm, wondering how long it'll take Brandon to want more. The answer is...not long. Brandon starts moving, trying to speed Hunter up.
"Stop it," Hunter says, giving Brandon's ass a smack. "You want more? You ask for it."
"Fuck you," Brandon says, but he stops moving.
"Not tonight," Hunter says. "Don't forget, I came earlier. I can do this all night." He's totally lying; he may have come earlier, but he's more than ready to do it again. Something about seeing Brandon stretched out in front of him is making Hunter just a little crazy.
"Pence," Brandon says, and then, before Hunter can be too disappointed, he adds, "Hunter...please?"
"Please what?"
All of a sudden the tension seems to slide out of Belt. He goes down onto his shoulder, face buried in the pillow. "Fuck me," he groans. "Hunter...please please fuck me."
"Like this?" Hunter asks, with a short shallow thrust.
"No, hard...oh God..please...just fuck me into the goddam bed already. Please!"
"Hell yeah," Hunter mutters. He grabs Brandon's hips and shoves into him hard. Brandon groans again, low and loud, and the sound gets to Hunter. He wants to hear more of that, wants to hear more begging. "Hell yeah," he says again, and then he just lets go and pounds into Brandon as hard as he can.
"Oh fuck...God...more...please!" Brandon's damn near incoherent and he's taking everything Hunter can give him and it's damn near perfect.
Hunter digs his fingers into Brandon's hips, hoping like hell he's leaving bruises. He wants to look at Brandon tomorrow and know there are marks on him, wants Brandon to feel it all fucking day. For half a second he worries about Brandon's playing, but if Brandon says he can deal with it, Hunter's going to take him at his word.
The bed's shaking now and it's a good thing Brandon's face down on the pillow because he may have gone non-verbal, but he's making up for it with loud, wordless yelling. It makes Hunter want to sit back and haul Brandon up into his lap and fuck him that way, just to hear him. But no, the last thing they need is Blanco or Cain or whoever's next door to call hotel security.
Hunter's doing his best to hold back, to make it as good as he can for Brandon, but then either he shifts just a little or Brandon moves and suddenly Brandon's yelling sounds a lot more desperate. "Can you," Hunter says hoarsely. "Can you...like this?"
"Fuck," Brandon says, lifting his head a little. "No...please...I need...please!"
For a second Hunter thinks of making him wait, thinks of seeing him totally come undone, but he's pretty close himself and they're both slick with sweat and, in spite of what Brandon said, they are both starting tomorrow and.... And that "I need" is echoing in Hunter's ears; right now, hearing it's pretty much the best thing ever.
He leans forward and reaches around to stroke Brandon's cock. "C'mon," he says. "C'mon Brandon...give it up!"
With one more loud yell into the pillow, Brandon pushes into Hunter's hand and comes in a slick rush of heat. Hunter wants to drag it out, wants to fuck Brandon for one more minute, but Brandon's incredibly tight around his dick and that's all it takes.
Hunter's orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks; he clings to Brandon's hips and comes so hard he sees stars behind his eyelids. "Fuck," he gasps, trying not to collapse on Brandon's back. "Holy fuck...."
"Yeah," Brandon says, his voice raspy. "Goddamn...."
They stay like that--Hunter bent over Brandon's back--until their breathing slows a little. "Sorry...lemme...." Hunter sits back, almost too wiped out to deal with the condom. He finally manages to get it in the trash and then flops onto his side, leaving enough room for Brandon to get out of the wet spot.
Brandon immediately settles in next to Hunter and suddenly they're spooned up together. It's nice, if a little sweaty, and Hunter slings an arm around Brandon's waist. "That was..." He pauses but the best he can come up with is, "wow."
"Yeah, what you said." Brandon chuckles a little. "If I hadn't come on to you earlier would you have spent the rest of the season checking me out?"
"Oh fuck, was I that obvious?" Hunter bangs his head lightly against the back of Brandon's neck. "Great."
"Nah, I think Bum's the only one who notices. Besides me, I mean."
"Bum?" Hunter bites back the obvious question.
"We don't fuck. Me 'n' Bum, I mean. Well, not really."
Hunter wait and when Brandon doesn't say anything more, he digs his fingers into Brandon's ribs. Brandon just laughs. "Nice try. I'm not ticklish."
"Okay fine, I'll ask. What the hell does 'not really' mean?"
"It means...." Brandon pauses. "I...look, you need to...."
"I won't say anything."
"Bum doesn't do guys, but sometimes we get together--the four of us--and he and Ali get it on with Haylee. Sometimes I watch and sometimes I don't."
Hunter goes up on one elbow to stare down at Brandon. "Okay no. You're totally shitting me."
"Nope." Brandon gives him that goofy grin.
"Next you're gonna tell me that Posey...."
"He does. Well, they do--him 'n' Kristen--but only with Cainer and Chelsea. They've got a really good babysitter."
Hunter's not sure he believes that one either, but Brandon doesn't look like he's lying. "Crawford?"
"Bi-curious, but kinda gunshy."
"Timmy?"
"He'll trade handjobs, but only if he's stoned and there's porn on the pay-per-view."
"Remind me to have a room party someday," Hunter says dryly.
"Dude, I'm telling the truth here."
"Is there anyone on this team who isn't into some kind of scene?"
"It's not that bad. Most of the guys behave, most of the time."
"Most of the time?"
"Some guys screw around with girls on road trips but, that happens." Brandon shrugs a little. "Not many of our guys are cheating...most of the wives know what's up."
And really, that doesn't surprise Hunter. Almost all of the successful baseball marriages he's been around involve some degree of flexibility and he's always figured that, in the unlikely event that he does get married, he'll have to work something out with his wife.
"What about Savanna?" Brandon says, making Hunter wonder if Brandon's suddenly become a mind reader.
"She's okay with it. I told her up front that I like guys and that wasn't going to change." Hunter takes a deep breath. "Thing is, I like dudes more than girls, most of the time. Savanna's kind of a friend with benefits. I mean, she's not a beard; we do sleep together sometimes."
"That's cool. I know some of the guys I fuck around--not just ball players--don't tell their wives everything, and it's their business, but...I dunno, I'd feel weird if I knew I was helping a teammate cheat."
"Yeah."
They're quiet for a long moment and Hunter's a little surprised at how easy it is to just lie here with Brandon. He could, he realizes, fall asleep right now. It'd probably be a lousy idea; he doesn't even know if Brandon would be okay with it.
"We good?" he finally says.
"Depends on what you mean by good," Brandon says, exaggerating his drawl. It sounds like home and reminds Hunter of the first guy he ever fooled around with. He tightens his arm around Brandon, just a little.
"Earlier it was pretty obvious things weren't gonna be weird in front of the guys," Brandon continues. "And I'm not exactly jumping out of bed and beating you up for being queer. So...yeah, we're good that way."
"Do you...fuck, I don't know how to ask this. Like I said, not so smooth here."
Without dislodging Hunter's arm, Brandon turns to face him. "Just ask."
"Is this a one off? Because I'm fine if it is, but...it was, well, pretty amazing really. So if you wanted...."
"You liked telling me what to do."
"Yeah."
"And you liked smacking my ass."
"Yeah."
Brandon grins. "In case you didn't notice, I got off on that. Most of the guys I fuck aren't all that kinky."
"Huh." Hunter waggles his eyebrows in a way that Savanna says makes him look demented. "I can be a lot kinkier than that."
"Then yeah, I'd be up for a repeat. Or two." He looks a little worried. "You're not gonna get all possessive are you?"
Leaning in, Hunter kisses him hard. "Only when you want me to be."
"Works for me." Brandon says and kisses him back.
The thing about Belt, Hunter thinks later, as he makes his way back to his room, isn't a thing about Belt. It's more that Hunter has a Thing for Belt.
And really? Hunter's okay with that.
-end-
crossposted from http://telesilla.dreamwidth.org/315113.html |
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by
telesilla
Baseball RPF, SF Giants, Brandon Belt/Hunter Pence, adult
content notes: no AO3 warnings apply
summary: The thing about Belt, Hunter thinks, isn't that he is, to put it crudely, easy. Hunter's known plenty of guys--ball players and otherwise--who sleep with just about anyone who's interested. No, the thing about Belt is that he's really upfront about it.
notes: Because I can't write SGA fic while watching the Giants....
Many thanks to Darkrose for looking this over and for being encouraging. Also, she's gone from "yeah whatever" when I ranted about baseball to having passionate feels about the DH, so clearly, she's awesome! I mention some of the wives and a girlfriend here, but the sexytimes involving them are implied and not explicit.
Read it @ AO3
August 31
@ Cubs L 4-6
The thing about Belt, Hunter thinks, isn't that he is, to put it crudely, easy. Hunter's known plenty of guys--ball players and otherwise--who sleep with just about anyone who's interested. No, the thing about Belt is that he's really upfront about it.
"Don't worry about it," Belt says as Hunter zips up his pants. He's just told Belt....
Huh. Maybe he should start thinking of him as Brandon. Does an incredible blowjob trump baseball etiquette? Hunter's been blown by teammates before and he's never started thinking of them by their first names, but then again, none of those blowjobs had been anywhere near this good.
"No one will care if we go back at the same time." Belt--it's just safer to think of him that way, Hunter thinks--gets off his knees and checks Hunter over before opening the stall door.
The bathroom's empty; Hunter thinks he would have heard if someone came in, but still, it's nice have that confirmed. As he steps over to the sink counter, Belt goes on, his voice matter of fact.
"I'm kind of a slut; the guys are used to it."
"What about Haylee?" The minute Hunter says it, he wishes he hadn't. You just don't ask about wives in this situation.
Belt rolls his eyes. "I'm not Bum; I didn't marry the first person I slept with. Haylee might be my high school sweetheart," he says, making air quotes. "But she knows what I'm like and she's totally okay with it."
Hunter blinks; that's new. Savanna knows what he gets up to, but they've both been around the block a few times. And anyway, things are a little different with Savanna. Belt's right; Hunter just assumed Haylee was a sweet innocent Southern girl like Ali or Kristin or Chelsea. He wonders if he's wrong about them too.
"Sorry," he says, not really sure if he's apologizing for asking or for his assumptions.
"No problem."
Hunter looks him over, checking out the rather formidable bulge in Belt's tight Levis. "You sure you don't...?
"Well, if you want to come by my room later...." Belt licks his lower lip. "It's been a couple of days since anyone's fucked me."
Even as Hunter says, "yeah, that'd be great," he's mentally doing the math. Who the hell did Belt find to fuck him in Houston? Someone on the team? Someone from the Astros, maybe someone Hunter knows? Some guy in a bar? He's not sure he wants to know...well no, he totally wants to know.
"Cool. Ready?"
"Uh...yeah."
Belt's as streaky a hitter as Hunter and when they fail, there's a camera lens aimed right at them as they leave the box, so God knows they're both capable of keeping their feelings off their faces. Still, he would have expected Belt to blush a little or maybe stare at the bar's floor for a while, but no, Belt just grabs a couple of beers from the bar and settles at their table. Less than a minute later, he's talking to Romo about some movie he thinks Romo really needs to see.
No one even glances at Hunter let alone smirks at him. Either Belt was right and everyone's used to this kind of thing, or no one noticed. At Hunter's end of the table, Bum's telling some stupid dirty joke that requires more concentration than it deserves because his accent gets even worse when he's got a few beers in him.
"You wanna translate that for the rest of us?" Hunter asks Cain, pleased at how normal he sounds. Cain just snorts a little and drinks his root beer.
It's all so normal--a subdued evening after a loss in hotel bar with some of his teammates--and for a moment, Hunter wonders if he just imagined a quickie men's room blowjob from Belt. But no, he didn't and he can't help wondering who else on the team's been in this same situation. Baseball players fuck each other, of course, but the Giants are a team full of good 'ol Christian Southern boys and Catholic Venezuelans. Crawford maybe? Or Romo? He's got that whole meterosexual vibe going on. And, of course, Belt's proved that not all the good 'ol boys are actually good....
Could be almost anyone although Hunter does rule out Affeldt. In spite of the fact that he's genuinely religious, he's no homophobe, but Hunter's pretty sure he takes the whole monogamy thing seriously.
But everyone else?
It's the not knowing that's bugging him as he makes his way back to his room. Well, that and the visuals his mind is oh-so-helpfully providing. The idea of the two Brandons together? Hot. Romo and Belt? There's the size difference, but still, hot. Buster and Belt?
Okay no. Not Buster. Buster's about as square as it gets. He belongs in front of a flag as an example of all that is good and true about baseball and America. Too bad, really; Hunter's always had a bit of a weakness for the clean-cut All American type.
Hunter splashes water on his face and then heads for the door. Belt's kind of a trickster, he thinks. He's probably yanking Hunter's chain.
"Oh hey, c'mon in," Belt says as he opens his door. He's barefoot but otherwise still dressed and he looks perfectly relaxed. The other players Hunter's fooled around with have always been a little anxious and kind of wary at this point.
Maybe it's that he's not cheating on anyone, Hunter thinks.
"You okay with this?"
"Huh?" Hunter laughs. "Oh very smooth of me. Yeah, I'm good."
"I don't think anyone would use smooth to describe either of us."
"They should, about you at least."
"You're joking, right? You haven't been around all that long, but c'mon. You know why people wear those giraffe hats."
"Yeah but I've also watched you making some pretty sweet plays at first." Hunter feels his face heating up. He hadn't really intended to make it quite so obvious that he's been watching Belt.
Belt looks almost annoyed. "You don't have to...." He lets his voice trail off before adding. "I mean, I'd do this anyway."
"I know everyone thinks I'm weird and kind of a flake," Hunter says quietly. "But I'm not an asshole and I don't lie about people's playing. If I say you're a really good first baseman, I mean it."
"Sorry." Reaching up, Belt rubs the back of his neck. "It's just...guys say things and it's stupid really. I don't need to be convinced, you know? Like I said, I'm pretty slutty; I'll sleep with almost anyone."
"Just guys?"
"Mostly guys. Sometimes girls, but that's usually with Haylee."
Hunter raises an eyebrow and it's obvious Belt can tell what he's thinking. "It's not that she's jealous. She just really likes girls."
"That's convenient for both of you," Hunter says with a laugh. "I really did think you two were like Bum and Ali. Or, hey, for all I know, they're like you and Haylee."
"Could be," Belt says, exaggerating his drawl a little. "Are we really gonna stand around and gossip, or are you gonna fuck me?"
Hunter kind of wants to ask if they can do both, but clearly Belt has his priorities and really, Hunter's just fine with that. "Is that a trick question?"
Belt chuckles a little and Hunter moves forward until he's right up into Belt's space. Normally this would feel a little awkward, but it's oddly easy to reach out and run his hands up Belt's arms. He tugs a little, pulling Belt in a little closer. They're roughly the same height and Hunter's about to lean in for a kiss before he remembers something.
"Is kissing okay?"
"I dunno," Belt says. "It's kinda gay."
Hunter tries to think of something--anything-- to say because that's not what he expected to hear, but then Belt laughs. "But so am I, so yeah...."
Belt kisses like...well, to be honest, Belt kisses like no one Hunter's ever met. While most guys try to turn it into a whole dominance contest, Belt doesn't. He also doesn't rush it; he kisses Hunter like he's got all night to find out what Hunter likes. Of course, it's not like he needs too much time; he's got Hunter figured out pretty quickly. When his teeth nip at Hunter's lips, Hunter moans and grips Belt's arms tighter.
"Mmmm," Belt murmurs against Hunter's lips, before kissing him again. They're right up against each other and Hunter can feel Belt's hard on nudging up against his own. He almost loses it when Belt slides his hands into Hunter's back pockets and tugs him even closer.
As Hunter kisses Belt harder, he can't believe how turned on he is. Belt's grinding up against him and it's like the blow job never happened, like Hunter didn't come a couple of hours ago. He--and his dick--are more than ready for another round.
"Fuck," Belt mutters, pulling away just a little. "Fuck me right now or it'll be over before we really start."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Hunter leans in for one more quick kiss, before stepping back. He finally lets go of Belt's arms and winces a little. He's been gripping Belt hard enough that his fingers are a little tight.
"Sorry."
"For what?" Belt asks as he heads toward the bed.
Hunter follows him. "Your arms..I hope I didn't leave bruises."
"I hope you did."
"Oh really?"
"I like it when it gets a little rough."
"Jesus," Hunter says, pulling his shirt off as quickly as he can. "Are you for real?"
"I could ask the same thing," Belt says, looking at Hunter's chest.
Hunter knows he's not exactly the hottest guy on the team, but he works hard to keep in shape and he's pretty proud of his abs. "Flattery," he says, "will get you everywhere."
"I sure hope so." Belt strips down fast, his pants, boxers and shirt landing in a pile on the floor, and now it's Hunter's turn to look.
It's always been Hunter's opinion that the uni doesn't do Belt any favors. Oh sure, his ass looks fantastic and he's got some impressive calves, but he wears his jerseys loose enough to make him look bulky. In regular clothes or, even better, naked, he's still big but more in proportion.
All of him, Hunter thinks. He's seen Belt in the showers and of course he's checked Belt's dick out, but he's never seen it hard. It's...impressive. Hunter generally prefers to be on top, but he can't help wondering what it would be like if Belt fucked him with that monster.
"You going to just stand there and look?"
"Hey," Hunter says with a smirk. "There's a lot to look at."
Belt grins, that broad goofy grin that its almost impossible not to return, and God, but Hunter wants him in the worst way. Forgetting that he's still wearing his jeans, he moves back into Belt's space and grabs his biceps as tightly as he can. And then they're kissing again, Belt shoving up against him hard. The rough denim of Hunter's jeans has to be uncomfortable against Belt's dick, but if he doesn't care than Hunter doesn't either.
"God," Belt says, pulling his mouth away from Hunter's. "Fuck...I'm gonna come all over your jeans if we keep this up."
For half a second Hunter thinks that's a brilliant idea but then he thinks about walking back to his room with a big wet spot on the crotch of his pants. It's one thing for the guys to guess that Belt's blown him in the men's room--if anyone even noticed--and another to wander around an upscale hotel covered in come.
He steps back and toes his shoes off while unbuttoning his jeans. "You've got stuff," he says and it's not really a question.
"Yeah." Belt turns and bends down to dig in the duffle on the floor next to the bed and...whoa, his ass is right there.
"Don't move," Hunter says. He reaches out and runs a hand over one cheek before thumping down on his knees behind Belt.
"Huh?" is all Belt can get out before Hunter leans in and bites him. It's not easy--Belt's ass is all muscle--but Hunter does his best anyway, remembering what Belt said about bruises and liking it rough.
"Dude, I think you're taking that caveman diet thing a little too seriously," Belt says, his voice husky.
"Om nom nom," Hunter mumbles, his mouth moving against Belt's skin. Positioned as he is, it's easy enough to grab the thing of lube out of Belt's hand. Once he's got it, he gives Belt's ass one more bite and then sits back on his heels.
"We gonna do this here or on the bed?" Belt sounds like he's good either way and for a moment Hunter wants to just shove some lube in him and fuck him while Belt holds onto the nightstand. But no, there's rough and then there's the kind of rough you don't do with a guy you haven't fucked before.
"Bed," he says and just like that, Belt's rolling onto the bed. He looks incredibly awkward--all big shoulders and boney knees and elbows--and he really does look like a....
Well fuck, Hunter thinks. The last image he needs in his head while getting ready to fuck someone is one of those goddamned giraffe hats. He shakes his head a little, pops the cap on the bottle of lube and tries to concentrate. It gets easier once Belt gets settled on his hands and knees; Hunter moves behind him and there's that ass again. The bite mark is already red, but Hunter can't resist leaning down and biting the same spot.
"That okay?" he asks, as he slicks up his fingers.
"I said I like it...."
"Yeah, but one guy's rough is another guy's 'stop biting my ass.' And you're starting tomorrow."
"A little bite mark on my butt isn't going to slow me down," Belt says with a faint snort of amusement. "Neither is getting fucked."
"Subtle. Very subtle." Before Belt can answer, Hunter smacks the inside of his thigh. "If you want to get fucked...."
As soon as Belt spreads his legs, Hunter brushes a slick finger over his hole. Belt makes a soft little noise that should sound ridiculous but isn't; Hunter wants to hear it again. Teasing Belt with his thumb, he slides his fingers down over the smooth skin behind Belt's balls and yeah, there's that sound again.
Hunter keeps the tease up much longer than he normally would because watching Belt....
Fuck it, Belt is the guy who's all serious business on the field and all dorky joker in the locker room. The guy who's gasping and squirming under Hunter's touch is Brandon. Hunter's pretty sure he'll know the difference tomorrow.
So yeah, watching Brandon get more and more worked up is pretty amazing. Hunter does his best to ignore the other word that comes to mind, because "addictive" and "teammate" don't belong in the same sentence, let alone the same thought.
"C'mon...c'mon," Brandon mutters. "Driving me fucking crazy here."
"All part of my evil plan," Hunter says and then, before Brandon can say anything else, he he slowly presses a finger into Brandon.
"More."
Hunter grins; apparently slow isn't quite what Brandon wants. "Yeah?" he asks. "You sure?"
"No, of course I'm not," Brandon says, managing to sound both sarcastic and incredibly turned on. "C'mon damnit!"
Hunter pauses for just a moment and then shoves two fingers in hard.
"Oh fuck yeah," Brandon says and pushes back, like Hunter hasn't already gotten the message.
While Hunter's totally down with rough sex, he's not going to completely ignore the prep. He'll rush it though, particularly with the way Brandon's gasping and squirming. "Be still," he mutters, putting a hand on Brandon's hip while he twists his other fingers.
Brandon gasps sharply and goes completely still and Hunter's sure he's done something wrong, been too pushy or something. But no, Brandon slides his knees apart just a little more in what is a pretty strong indication that he wants Hunter to keep going.
So Hunter does; keeping his grip on Brandon's hip, he works the fingers of his other hand until Brandon's slick and ready. Brandon's panting now, harsh sounds that go right to Hunter's dick. Without thinking, Hunter slides his hand from Brandon's hip up his back. "Down," he says, pressing on Brandon's upper back.
Just like that, Brandon goes down onto his elbows. It's one hell of a sight and Hunter stares for a long moment before Brandon speaks. "C'mon," he says, his voice rough. "C'mon...please?"
"Please what?"
"You know...." Brandon pauses and then when Hunter doesn't move, he adds. "Fuck me...please?"
"There's just one thing," Hunter says.
"You fucker...."
Hunter pats him on the ass. "Oh, I'm gonna fuck you," he says. "It's just...where the hell are your rubbers?"
"Duffle bag," Brandon says. "Hurry the fuck up, Dude; I'm dyin' here."
"Nah," Hunter says, as he leans over the bed and digs around in the duffle bag. Brandon's shaving kit is open and there's a box of Trojans in it. It's half empty and as Hunter grabs one and sits back up, he wonders if it was full when they left San Francisco.
The thought that Brandon runs through a box of condoms on each roadie is oddly hot.
"You think you're dying now...." He has to use his teeth to open the package. God, he fucking hates condom packaging. It's like they don't want you to actually use the product. "Wait'll I get going."
"That gonna happen any time this year?"
Hunter waits until he's--finally--got the rubber on before slapping Brandon on the ass. "Quit mouthing off." Hunter can hear the intake of breath, like Brandon's going to say something else, but then he just shivers a little and remains silent.
Huh, Hunter thinks. He settles in behind Brandon and stares down at him for a moment. And then he's pushing into him and goddam, but Brandon's hot and tight and damn near perfect. It's not easy to move slowly, but Hunter really liked hearing Brandon beg earlier and he's hoping to hear it again.
"Oh yeah," Brandon says, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Fuck yeah...."
"Yeah?"
Hunter pulls back and then pushes back in slowly and then keeps to that pace, setting up a slow steady rhythm, wondering how long it'll take Brandon to want more. The answer is...not long. Brandon starts moving, trying to speed Hunter up.
"Stop it," Hunter says, giving Brandon's ass a smack. "You want more? You ask for it."
"Fuck you," Brandon says, but he stops moving.
"Not tonight," Hunter says. "Don't forget, I came earlier. I can do this all night." He's totally lying; he may have come earlier, but he's more than ready to do it again. Something about seeing Brandon stretched out in front of him is making Hunter just a little crazy.
"Pence," Brandon says, and then, before Hunter can be too disappointed, he adds, "Hunter...please?"
"Please what?"
All of a sudden the tension seems to slide out of Belt. He goes down onto his shoulder, face buried in the pillow. "Fuck me," he groans. "Hunter...please please fuck me."
"Like this?" Hunter asks, with a short shallow thrust.
"No, hard...oh God..please...just fuck me into the goddam bed already. Please!"
"Hell yeah," Hunter mutters. He grabs Brandon's hips and shoves into him hard. Brandon groans again, low and loud, and the sound gets to Hunter. He wants to hear more of that, wants to hear more begging. "Hell yeah," he says again, and then he just lets go and pounds into Brandon as hard as he can.
"Oh fuck...God...more...please!" Brandon's damn near incoherent and he's taking everything Hunter can give him and it's damn near perfect.
Hunter digs his fingers into Brandon's hips, hoping like hell he's leaving bruises. He wants to look at Brandon tomorrow and know there are marks on him, wants Brandon to feel it all fucking day. For half a second he worries about Brandon's playing, but if Brandon says he can deal with it, Hunter's going to take him at his word.
The bed's shaking now and it's a good thing Brandon's face down on the pillow because he may have gone non-verbal, but he's making up for it with loud, wordless yelling. It makes Hunter want to sit back and haul Brandon up into his lap and fuck him that way, just to hear him. But no, the last thing they need is Blanco or Cain or whoever's next door to call hotel security.
Hunter's doing his best to hold back, to make it as good as he can for Brandon, but then either he shifts just a little or Brandon moves and suddenly Brandon's yelling sounds a lot more desperate. "Can you," Hunter says hoarsely. "Can you...like this?"
"Fuck," Brandon says, lifting his head a little. "No...please...I need...please!"
For a second Hunter thinks of making him wait, thinks of seeing him totally come undone, but he's pretty close himself and they're both slick with sweat and, in spite of what Brandon said, they are both starting tomorrow and.... And that "I need" is echoing in Hunter's ears; right now, hearing it's pretty much the best thing ever.
He leans forward and reaches around to stroke Brandon's cock. "C'mon," he says. "C'mon Brandon...give it up!"
With one more loud yell into the pillow, Brandon pushes into Hunter's hand and comes in a slick rush of heat. Hunter wants to drag it out, wants to fuck Brandon for one more minute, but Brandon's incredibly tight around his dick and that's all it takes.
Hunter's orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks; he clings to Brandon's hips and comes so hard he sees stars behind his eyelids. "Fuck," he gasps, trying not to collapse on Brandon's back. "Holy fuck...."
"Yeah," Brandon says, his voice raspy. "Goddamn...."
They stay like that--Hunter bent over Brandon's back--until their breathing slows a little. "Sorry...lemme...." Hunter sits back, almost too wiped out to deal with the condom. He finally manages to get it in the trash and then flops onto his side, leaving enough room for Brandon to get out of the wet spot.
Brandon immediately settles in next to Hunter and suddenly they're spooned up together. It's nice, if a little sweaty, and Hunter slings an arm around Brandon's waist. "That was..." He pauses but the best he can come up with is, "wow."
"Yeah, what you said." Brandon chuckles a little. "If I hadn't come on to you earlier would you have spent the rest of the season checking me out?"
"Oh fuck, was I that obvious?" Hunter bangs his head lightly against the back of Brandon's neck. "Great."
"Nah, I think Bum's the only one who notices. Besides me, I mean."
"Bum?" Hunter bites back the obvious question.
"We don't fuck. Me 'n' Bum, I mean. Well, not really."
Hunter wait and when Brandon doesn't say anything more, he digs his fingers into Brandon's ribs. Brandon just laughs. "Nice try. I'm not ticklish."
"Okay fine, I'll ask. What the hell does 'not really' mean?"
"It means...." Brandon pauses. "I...look, you need to...."
"I won't say anything."
"Bum doesn't do guys, but sometimes we get together--the four of us--and he and Ali get it on with Haylee. Sometimes I watch and sometimes I don't."
Hunter goes up on one elbow to stare down at Brandon. "Okay no. You're totally shitting me."
"Nope." Brandon gives him that goofy grin.
"Next you're gonna tell me that Posey...."
"He does. Well, they do--him 'n' Kristen--but only with Cainer and Chelsea. They've got a really good babysitter."
Hunter's not sure he believes that one either, but Brandon doesn't look like he's lying. "Crawford?"
"Bi-curious, but kinda gunshy."
"Timmy?"
"He'll trade handjobs, but only if he's stoned and there's porn on the pay-per-view."
"Remind me to have a room party someday," Hunter says dryly.
"Dude, I'm telling the truth here."
"Is there anyone on this team who isn't into some kind of scene?"
"It's not that bad. Most of the guys behave, most of the time."
"Most of the time?"
"Some guys screw around with girls on road trips but, that happens." Brandon shrugs a little. "Not many of our guys are cheating...most of the wives know what's up."
And really, that doesn't surprise Hunter. Almost all of the successful baseball marriages he's been around involve some degree of flexibility and he's always figured that, in the unlikely event that he does get married, he'll have to work something out with his wife.
"What about Savanna?" Brandon says, making Hunter wonder if Brandon's suddenly become a mind reader.
"She's okay with it. I told her up front that I like guys and that wasn't going to change." Hunter takes a deep breath. "Thing is, I like dudes more than girls, most of the time. Savanna's kind of a friend with benefits. I mean, she's not a beard; we do sleep together sometimes."
"That's cool. I know some of the guys I fuck around--not just ball players--don't tell their wives everything, and it's their business, but...I dunno, I'd feel weird if I knew I was helping a teammate cheat."
"Yeah."
They're quiet for a long moment and Hunter's a little surprised at how easy it is to just lie here with Brandon. He could, he realizes, fall asleep right now. It'd probably be a lousy idea; he doesn't even know if Brandon would be okay with it.
"We good?" he finally says.
"Depends on what you mean by good," Brandon says, exaggerating his drawl. It sounds like home and reminds Hunter of the first guy he ever fooled around with. He tightens his arm around Brandon, just a little.
"Earlier it was pretty obvious things weren't gonna be weird in front of the guys," Brandon continues. "And I'm not exactly jumping out of bed and beating you up for being queer. So...yeah, we're good that way."
"Do you...fuck, I don't know how to ask this. Like I said, not so smooth here."
Without dislodging Hunter's arm, Brandon turns to face him. "Just ask."
"Is this a one off? Because I'm fine if it is, but...it was, well, pretty amazing really. So if you wanted...."
"You liked telling me what to do."
"Yeah."
"And you liked smacking my ass."
"Yeah."
Brandon grins. "In case you didn't notice, I got off on that. Most of the guys I fuck aren't all that kinky."
"Huh." Hunter waggles his eyebrows in a way that Savanna says makes him look demented. "I can be a lot kinkier than that."
"Then yeah, I'd be up for a repeat. Or two." He looks a little worried. "You're not gonna get all possessive are you?"
Leaning in, Hunter kisses him hard. "Only when you want me to be."
"Works for me." Brandon says and kisses him back.
The thing about Belt, Hunter thinks later, as he makes his way back to his room, isn't a thing about Belt. It's more that Hunter has a Thing for Belt.
And really? Hunter's okay with that.
-end-
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