Fic: ~Thanks For The Memories~
Wrote this a long time ago as a request for xcacophony, and just realized that I never posted it here. Not only that, but I've only posted one of my fics in this community before! So expect to see some more fics posted from me in the next couple days...
Title: Thanks For The Memories
Author: Kai (missy7280)
Pairing: Mark Reynolds/Greg Smith
Rating: R
Summary: The night before Mark's major league debut, he spent the night playing video games and generally freaking out with his friend Greg. This is a story about what happened that night. (FYI just in case you don't know the players, Reynolds is the starting 3rd baseman for the Dbacks while Smith is currently in the Rockies' minor league system)
Disclaimer: Although Mark really did play video games with Greg the night before his first start, that's where the truth of this story ends. It is completely FICTIONAL and not meant to harm anyone, nor am I writing for profit. This is all in good fun.
“Pinch me.”
“What, man?”
“I said, ‘pinch me.’”
Greg shrugs and does what he’s asked, giving Mark a hard pinch on the arm.
“Ow! I didn’t mean literally.”
“Well then be more specific next time.”
Mark smiles and lightly punches Greg on the arm. He turns around and checks the time on the dingy motel clock. Damn, they’d been playing video games for five hours straight.
“Maybe we should take a break,” Mark says.
“Take a break? But I’m so close to beating your ass again!”
“That’s why we should stop,” Mark says, even though that isn’t really the reason.
“You really are a sore loser, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
“So what do you want to do now, Mr. Big Leaguer?”
“Don’t say that. You’ll jinx me.”
“You really need to calm down.”
“How can I? This time tomorrow I’ll be an official major league player. What if I screw something up? What if I’m late? What if I wear the wrong uniform? Shit.”
“Dude, I’m getting you some beer.”
“No, no, no. I shouldn’t drink tonight.”
“Oh lighten up, Mark. It’s just a beer.”
Greg goes to the extra-mini fridge he always brings with him on the road and pulls out two Coors Lights.
“Here, drink up. And relax.”
Mark opens the beer and tentatively takes a few sips. It’s not that he has a problem drinking, he just has a problem drinking with Greg. He doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he’s always had a deep affection for his roommate and friend. They’d gotten drunk together in the past, and each time they did Mark got dangerously close to crossing a line that should never be crossed.
"Feeling any better?" Greg asks, snapping Mark out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Mark replies.
"So what do you want to do now? And don't say sleep."
"No, I don't want to sleep. I'm too nervous."
"Man, still? We need to do something about that."
Mark hesitates for a moment. He has no idea where this is going. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"You know my crazy aunt Celeste? Claims she can see into the future and all that shit? Well she taught me this relaxing meditation technique. Actually works like a charm."
"Sounds kinda gay," Mark says. He spits out the words without thinking about them, trying to ignore the irony in his statement.
"Naw, athletes do stuff like this all the time. Meditating, finding their chi, whatever you want to call it. I promise it can help."
"Fine. I got nothing better to do."
"Now that's the spirit!" Greg exclaims sarcastically. "Close your eyes. And get comfortable."
Mark sits on the motel bed in the most comfortable position he can find, which is pretty difficult to do on the flat mattress. Before closing his eyes he looks at Greg and sees him get up. Mark briefly wonders where he is going, but then he understands as Greg turns off the main light and all that's left is the muted glow from the bedside lamp.
"I said close your eyes."
Mark slowly lets his eyelids close as he feels Greg's weight on the mattress again.
"Now, first you need to concentrate on your breathing. Breathe in slowly, and then let it out again. Feel your lungs expand in your chest. Feel the air entering your body, and then being expelled again. Don't be any where else but right here. Don't listen to anything else but the sound of my voice. Breathe in, and breathe out."
Greg continued on in this way as Mark was getting more and more relaxed. Getting through the breathing exercise was the hardest part. Once the person's thoughts were all concentrated on their breathing, they could move on.
"Envision it's tomorrow and you're at the ballpark. Block out the sounds of the crowd, the other guys, everything. You're in the batter's box, staring down the pitcher. All of your attention is on him and figuring out what pitch he's going to throw next. He doesn't know who you are, what kind of hitter you are, and he wants to challenge you. You can see it in his eyes. He's going to throw you a fastball. He's daring you to hit his best pitch. He goes into his wind-up and makes the throw. You know exactly where the pitch is going, and your timing is perfect. You go into your swing, and you hit the ball right on the sweet spot of the bat. You follow the path of the ball as it flies through the air. You take off running. You feel like you're flying around first base. The ball lands somewhere in the gap, and you're into second with an RBI double."
There is a pause as Greg finishes. Mark takes another deep breath and can't help smiling. The vision seems so real, like it actually just happened. He does feel more confidant about tomorrow. Maybe there actually was something to this meditating stuff.
As silence fills the room, Mark opens his eyes again. Even the dim light is a little harsh to him at first. As his eyesight adjusts to the light, he sees Greg in front of him, much closer than he remembered him being in the beginning. Mark notices the serious expression on Greg's face. Greg scoots in even closer to him, so close that they're practically touching.
"How was that?" Greg asks in a soft voice.
Mark visibly swallows. "That was good. I feel good," Mark says, his voice cracking on the word 'good.'
"Glad I could be of service," Greg says. His tone is light, but he still looks serious.
There is another somewhat awkward pause as Greg just stares at him. What was going on? Did Greg possibly feel the same way that Mark did? The tension in the air is literally palpable. Mark doesn't move a muscle as he looks back at Greg. If something was going to happen, Mark wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. Before he can register what is happening, Greg reaches across the space between them and grabs his cheek. "Do you want this?" he asks simply. There's no need for him to elaborate. Mark understands what he's asking. Speaking has become impossible, and so Mark nods instead.
Greg grabs both sides of Mark's face and leans forward. Finally, blissfully, their lips come in contact with each other. It's tentative at first, just a brief touch of lips. But then Greg opens his mouth, and Mark can feel the kiss become more passionate. He holds onto Greg's shoulders for support as he looses himself in this feeling.
Greg moves his hands to the bottom of Mark's shirt and starts to lift up the piece of clothing. Mark has to reluctantly pull away so that Greg can take his shirt off. Greg pulls of his own shirt next and quickly returns to kissing Mark senseless. He takes complete control of the situation as he unbuttons and then unzips Mark's jeans. Once they are both half-naked, Greg leans over him and rubs their still covered erections together. The friction feels wonderful, but he still wants more. He pulls down both of their boxers and moans at the skin-to-skin contact. Mark had his eyes closed through most of this, but he looks at Greg when he hears him moan.
He doesn't know what to do, and he can't think of anything to say. Luckily, Greg takes care of all that. His friend (lover?) puts his hand around both of their cocks and starts to jerk them off together. It feels great, but it seems like Greg is so far away now. He wants to bring him back.
"Kiss me," Mark says, his mouth moving too fast for his brain to catch up.
Fortunately Greg doesn't find the request to be odd at all. He leans over Mark again and crushes their lips together, while continuing to move his hand over both of them. They let their tongues find each other and Mark hums in approval of the open-mouth kiss. Greg briefly breaks the kiss to whisper, "You're gonna be great."
His statement makes something twist in Mark's gut. Mark feels his body clench, and before he can stop himself he's coming all over his stomach. "Fuck," Greg says, his hand moving even faster and his eyes drifting closed. A moment later he's coming as well, most of it landing on Mark's chest.
Mark lies there in contentment, not wanting to move ever again. Greg goes to the bathroom to grab some tissues and cleans them both up.
"Guess you're sleeping in my bed tonight, then?" Greg asks.
Mark doesn't answer him, as he's already half-asleep. Greg lies next to him on the bed, puts his arm around Mark, and smiles. His aunt had told him that Mark would one day be a star, but she had left out the part about their one night stand.
"Been looking forward to the future
But my eyesight is going bad
And this crystal ball
It's always cloudy except for
When you look into the past
One night stand...
One night stands out!
One night, and one more time
Thanks for the memories
Even though they weren't so great
He tastes like you, only sweeter."
~Thanks for the Memories~ by Fall Out Boy
Title: Thanks For The Memories
Author: Kai (missy7280)
Pairing: Mark Reynolds/Greg Smith
Rating: R
Summary: The night before Mark's major league debut, he spent the night playing video games and generally freaking out with his friend Greg. This is a story about what happened that night. (FYI just in case you don't know the players, Reynolds is the starting 3rd baseman for the Dbacks while Smith is currently in the Rockies' minor league system)
Disclaimer: Although Mark really did play video games with Greg the night before his first start, that's where the truth of this story ends. It is completely FICTIONAL and not meant to harm anyone, nor am I writing for profit. This is all in good fun.
“Pinch me.”
“What, man?”
“I said, ‘pinch me.’”
Greg shrugs and does what he’s asked, giving Mark a hard pinch on the arm.
“Ow! I didn’t mean literally.”
“Well then be more specific next time.”
Mark smiles and lightly punches Greg on the arm. He turns around and checks the time on the dingy motel clock. Damn, they’d been playing video games for five hours straight.
“Maybe we should take a break,” Mark says.
“Take a break? But I’m so close to beating your ass again!”
“That’s why we should stop,” Mark says, even though that isn’t really the reason.
“You really are a sore loser, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
“So what do you want to do now, Mr. Big Leaguer?”
“Don’t say that. You’ll jinx me.”
“You really need to calm down.”
“How can I? This time tomorrow I’ll be an official major league player. What if I screw something up? What if I’m late? What if I wear the wrong uniform? Shit.”
“Dude, I’m getting you some beer.”
“No, no, no. I shouldn’t drink tonight.”
“Oh lighten up, Mark. It’s just a beer.”
Greg goes to the extra-mini fridge he always brings with him on the road and pulls out two Coors Lights.
“Here, drink up. And relax.”
Mark opens the beer and tentatively takes a few sips. It’s not that he has a problem drinking, he just has a problem drinking with Greg. He doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he’s always had a deep affection for his roommate and friend. They’d gotten drunk together in the past, and each time they did Mark got dangerously close to crossing a line that should never be crossed.
"Feeling any better?" Greg asks, snapping Mark out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Mark replies.
"So what do you want to do now? And don't say sleep."
"No, I don't want to sleep. I'm too nervous."
"Man, still? We need to do something about that."
Mark hesitates for a moment. He has no idea where this is going. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"You know my crazy aunt Celeste? Claims she can see into the future and all that shit? Well she taught me this relaxing meditation technique. Actually works like a charm."
"Sounds kinda gay," Mark says. He spits out the words without thinking about them, trying to ignore the irony in his statement.
"Naw, athletes do stuff like this all the time. Meditating, finding their chi, whatever you want to call it. I promise it can help."
"Fine. I got nothing better to do."
"Now that's the spirit!" Greg exclaims sarcastically. "Close your eyes. And get comfortable."
Mark sits on the motel bed in the most comfortable position he can find, which is pretty difficult to do on the flat mattress. Before closing his eyes he looks at Greg and sees him get up. Mark briefly wonders where he is going, but then he understands as Greg turns off the main light and all that's left is the muted glow from the bedside lamp.
"I said close your eyes."
Mark slowly lets his eyelids close as he feels Greg's weight on the mattress again.
"Now, first you need to concentrate on your breathing. Breathe in slowly, and then let it out again. Feel your lungs expand in your chest. Feel the air entering your body, and then being expelled again. Don't be any where else but right here. Don't listen to anything else but the sound of my voice. Breathe in, and breathe out."
Greg continued on in this way as Mark was getting more and more relaxed. Getting through the breathing exercise was the hardest part. Once the person's thoughts were all concentrated on their breathing, they could move on.
"Envision it's tomorrow and you're at the ballpark. Block out the sounds of the crowd, the other guys, everything. You're in the batter's box, staring down the pitcher. All of your attention is on him and figuring out what pitch he's going to throw next. He doesn't know who you are, what kind of hitter you are, and he wants to challenge you. You can see it in his eyes. He's going to throw you a fastball. He's daring you to hit his best pitch. He goes into his wind-up and makes the throw. You know exactly where the pitch is going, and your timing is perfect. You go into your swing, and you hit the ball right on the sweet spot of the bat. You follow the path of the ball as it flies through the air. You take off running. You feel like you're flying around first base. The ball lands somewhere in the gap, and you're into second with an RBI double."
There is a pause as Greg finishes. Mark takes another deep breath and can't help smiling. The vision seems so real, like it actually just happened. He does feel more confidant about tomorrow. Maybe there actually was something to this meditating stuff.
As silence fills the room, Mark opens his eyes again. Even the dim light is a little harsh to him at first. As his eyesight adjusts to the light, he sees Greg in front of him, much closer than he remembered him being in the beginning. Mark notices the serious expression on Greg's face. Greg scoots in even closer to him, so close that they're practically touching.
"How was that?" Greg asks in a soft voice.
Mark visibly swallows. "That was good. I feel good," Mark says, his voice cracking on the word 'good.'
"Glad I could be of service," Greg says. His tone is light, but he still looks serious.
There is another somewhat awkward pause as Greg just stares at him. What was going on? Did Greg possibly feel the same way that Mark did? The tension in the air is literally palpable. Mark doesn't move a muscle as he looks back at Greg. If something was going to happen, Mark wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. Before he can register what is happening, Greg reaches across the space between them and grabs his cheek. "Do you want this?" he asks simply. There's no need for him to elaborate. Mark understands what he's asking. Speaking has become impossible, and so Mark nods instead.
Greg grabs both sides of Mark's face and leans forward. Finally, blissfully, their lips come in contact with each other. It's tentative at first, just a brief touch of lips. But then Greg opens his mouth, and Mark can feel the kiss become more passionate. He holds onto Greg's shoulders for support as he looses himself in this feeling.
Greg moves his hands to the bottom of Mark's shirt and starts to lift up the piece of clothing. Mark has to reluctantly pull away so that Greg can take his shirt off. Greg pulls of his own shirt next and quickly returns to kissing Mark senseless. He takes complete control of the situation as he unbuttons and then unzips Mark's jeans. Once they are both half-naked, Greg leans over him and rubs their still covered erections together. The friction feels wonderful, but he still wants more. He pulls down both of their boxers and moans at the skin-to-skin contact. Mark had his eyes closed through most of this, but he looks at Greg when he hears him moan.
He doesn't know what to do, and he can't think of anything to say. Luckily, Greg takes care of all that. His friend (lover?) puts his hand around both of their cocks and starts to jerk them off together. It feels great, but it seems like Greg is so far away now. He wants to bring him back.
"Kiss me," Mark says, his mouth moving too fast for his brain to catch up.
Fortunately Greg doesn't find the request to be odd at all. He leans over Mark again and crushes their lips together, while continuing to move his hand over both of them. They let their tongues find each other and Mark hums in approval of the open-mouth kiss. Greg briefly breaks the kiss to whisper, "You're gonna be great."
His statement makes something twist in Mark's gut. Mark feels his body clench, and before he can stop himself he's coming all over his stomach. "Fuck," Greg says, his hand moving even faster and his eyes drifting closed. A moment later he's coming as well, most of it landing on Mark's chest.
Mark lies there in contentment, not wanting to move ever again. Greg goes to the bathroom to grab some tissues and cleans them both up.
"Guess you're sleeping in my bed tonight, then?" Greg asks.
Mark doesn't answer him, as he's already half-asleep. Greg lies next to him on the bed, puts his arm around Mark, and smiles. His aunt had told him that Mark would one day be a star, but she had left out the part about their one night stand.
"Been looking forward to the future
But my eyesight is going bad
And this crystal ball
It's always cloudy except for
When you look into the past
One night stand...
One night stands out!
One night, and one more time
Thanks for the memories
Even though they weren't so great
He tastes like you, only sweeter."
~Thanks for the Memories~ by Fall Out Boy