Big Bubba Brian [1/1]
first baseball fic i've ever posted. hope it's good.
Title: Big Bubba Brian
Author: emeh
Pairing: Brian McCann/Jeff Francoeur
Team(s): Atlanta Braves, New York Mets
Rating: R for light mentioning of dude!sex
Summary: A Bubba is someone who's got substance.
Author's Note: I couldn't figure out where I wanted to end this... So this just seemed like a good place to stop. Should I write moar?
“What the hell is a Bubba?”
Jonny looks at him and grins. “B-Mac, you are the definition of Bubba.”
Brian frowns and glances down at himself. All he can see are thighs that look as though they’re trying to bust out of his too-tight baseball pants. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks defensively.
A huge smile is plastered on the Kentucky boy’s face. “Means whatever you want it to mean.” He pats Brian on the stomach, on his jellyroll, and walks out of the bullpen, leaving Brian standing there with a confused look on his face.
* * * *
“Let me ask you somethin’,” Brian starts, straddling the bench to look Tommy dead in the eye.
“Okay, shoot.”
“What’s a Bubba?”
Tommy nearly spits a mouthful of Mountain Dew at the catcher. “What?”
Brian looks away from Tommy, looking at his cleats. “Oh, never mind. Forget I asked.” His chubby squirrel cheeks are bright red as he avoids Tom’s gaze, until he finds a strong hand on his shoulder.
“A Bubba is somebody who-“
“Get out here! Practice is starting!” Tim’s voice interrupts Tommy’s explanation.
Tommy looks at Brian apologetically, but Brian’s already off the bench and pulling on his catcher’s gear.
* * * *
“What’s wrong?”
Brian turns his head on the pillow to get a better look at Jeff. He frowns slightly. “What’s a Bubba?” he asks for the third time today, determined to get an answer.
Jeff laughs softly and lays his head on Brian’s chest, the warmth of his bare skin comfortable beneath his ear.
“It ain’t funny,” Brian snaps. “I’ve been askin’ all day and nobody’s given me a straight answer.” His breathing is heavier now that he’s irritated; Jeff’s head rises and falls with Brian’s chest.
“No, no. I know it’s not funny.” Jeff smiles. “It’s just a little hard to explain.”
“I’ve got all day.”
Jeff sighs and gently kisses Brian’s fleshy belly. “A Bubba is someone who’s got a little more to love…” he begins, kissing the rounded, soft flesh to accentuate his words.
Brian rolls his eyes, sick of the fat jokes, but he doesn’t interrupt.
Jeff slowly moves his hand along Brian’s thick, muscular thigh. “A Bubba is someone who’s got substance.” He kneads his fingers into the skin, working his way upwards.
Brian’s irritation is fading quickly, as Jeff’s slow movements along his thigh send shivers down his spine. “Substance?” he breathes out.
Slowly climbing on top of Brian, Jeff works his hand up, along the indentation of Brian’s hipbone. “Yeah, substance.” He sucks gently on the barely-protruding hipbone, smiling as he feels Brian’s fingers thread into his hair.
Brian shudders and lets out a soft moan. Jeff slides his hand up Brian’s side, his tongue following. He nips at the soft, pudgy flesh, digs his teeth gently into his love handles. Brian arches up, growling softly, his grip in Jeff’s hair tightening.
“Substance is a nice way of calling me fat,” he moans.
“Not fat,” Jeff answers, kissing his way up Brian’s chest. “Squishy.” He sucks gently on Brian’s nipple, feels it swell under his lips.
“Squishy’s just as bad,” Brian says breathlessly, the mouth on his nipple sending a shockwave along his spine, through his crotch.
“Plus size,” Jeff suggests, slithering back down Brian, sucking on the skin just below Brian’s belly button.
“What am I, a chick?” Brian’s breath hitches in his throat.
“Well, then I guess you’re stuck with Bubba,” Jeff says, his mouth sliding down to gently suck on the tip of Brian’s erection.
Title: Big Bubba Brian
Author: emeh
Pairing: Brian McCann/Jeff Francoeur
Team(s): Atlanta Braves, New York Mets
Rating: R for light mentioning of dude!sex
Summary: A Bubba is someone who's got substance.
Author's Note: I couldn't figure out where I wanted to end this... So this just seemed like a good place to stop. Should I write moar?
“What the hell is a Bubba?”
Jonny looks at him and grins. “B-Mac, you are the definition of Bubba.”
Brian frowns and glances down at himself. All he can see are thighs that look as though they’re trying to bust out of his too-tight baseball pants. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks defensively.
A huge smile is plastered on the Kentucky boy’s face. “Means whatever you want it to mean.” He pats Brian on the stomach, on his jellyroll, and walks out of the bullpen, leaving Brian standing there with a confused look on his face.
* * * *
“Let me ask you somethin’,” Brian starts, straddling the bench to look Tommy dead in the eye.
“Okay, shoot.”
“What’s a Bubba?”
Tommy nearly spits a mouthful of Mountain Dew at the catcher. “What?”
Brian looks away from Tommy, looking at his cleats. “Oh, never mind. Forget I asked.” His chubby squirrel cheeks are bright red as he avoids Tom’s gaze, until he finds a strong hand on his shoulder.
“A Bubba is somebody who-“
“Get out here! Practice is starting!” Tim’s voice interrupts Tommy’s explanation.
Tommy looks at Brian apologetically, but Brian’s already off the bench and pulling on his catcher’s gear.
* * * *
“What’s wrong?”
Brian turns his head on the pillow to get a better look at Jeff. He frowns slightly. “What’s a Bubba?” he asks for the third time today, determined to get an answer.
Jeff laughs softly and lays his head on Brian’s chest, the warmth of his bare skin comfortable beneath his ear.
“It ain’t funny,” Brian snaps. “I’ve been askin’ all day and nobody’s given me a straight answer.” His breathing is heavier now that he’s irritated; Jeff’s head rises and falls with Brian’s chest.
“No, no. I know it’s not funny.” Jeff smiles. “It’s just a little hard to explain.”
“I’ve got all day.”
Jeff sighs and gently kisses Brian’s fleshy belly. “A Bubba is someone who’s got a little more to love…” he begins, kissing the rounded, soft flesh to accentuate his words.
Brian rolls his eyes, sick of the fat jokes, but he doesn’t interrupt.
Jeff slowly moves his hand along Brian’s thick, muscular thigh. “A Bubba is someone who’s got substance.” He kneads his fingers into the skin, working his way upwards.
Brian’s irritation is fading quickly, as Jeff’s slow movements along his thigh send shivers down his spine. “Substance?” he breathes out.
Slowly climbing on top of Brian, Jeff works his hand up, along the indentation of Brian’s hipbone. “Yeah, substance.” He sucks gently on the barely-protruding hipbone, smiling as he feels Brian’s fingers thread into his hair.
Brian shudders and lets out a soft moan. Jeff slides his hand up Brian’s side, his tongue following. He nips at the soft, pudgy flesh, digs his teeth gently into his love handles. Brian arches up, growling softly, his grip in Jeff’s hair tightening.
“Substance is a nice way of calling me fat,” he moans.
“Not fat,” Jeff answers, kissing his way up Brian’s chest. “Squishy.” He sucks gently on Brian’s nipple, feels it swell under his lips.
“Squishy’s just as bad,” Brian says breathlessly, the mouth on his nipple sending a shockwave along his spine, through his crotch.
“Plus size,” Jeff suggests, slithering back down Brian, sucking on the skin just below Brian’s belly button.
“What am I, a chick?” Brian’s breath hitches in his throat.
“Well, then I guess you’re stuck with Bubba,” Jeff says, his mouth sliding down to gently suck on the tip of Brian’s erection.