[Fic] Fielder's Choice
Title: Fielder's Choice - Baseball AU part 3
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kibum/Donghae
Genre: AU, baseball
Summary: On the field, they were a team... Off the field, it's anyone's game.
Fic Archive
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***
Part One ** Part Two ** Part Three ** Part Four
***
It seemed nothing delighted Donghae so much as the days one of the veteran players would bring in one of their children. Kids flocked to Donghae like flies on food, and neither of the parties were upset by that. Kibum had spent a minute here or there wondering about it. Was it Donghae’s grin? The fact that he got down to their level without respect to his sense of pride or adulthood? If there was a child in the clubhouse, there was a child tagging after Donghae. Or carried laughing in Donghae’s arms, or hanging around his neck in some odd fashion. Even the shy ones gravitated over, like he was a little heat-emitting sun and they just blossomed beside him.
Of course, it was ideal as it kept the children away from those who were a little less in awe of the shorter human forms. In any other life, that probably would’ve been Kibum as well. Not that he disliked kids. They were other people’s kids though, and you couldn’t really say no to them without feeling awkward, and...
But it wasn’t any other life. He and Donghae ruled over the center of the infield. Their lockers were close together. Therefore, all of the children who knew Donghae and doted on Donghae also knew Kibum.
They had taken it on themselves that making Kibum laugh was sort of the pinnacle of challenges. He suspected Donghae was behind that for a reason.
*
After an afternoon game, if the weather was nice and they weren’t terribly tired, Donghae would gladly take any child or children out onto the baseball field. Walking around the diamond, watching the field crew mow or prepare for the next game. The crowds had gone, and all that was left were players and staff. Not quite an idyllic park, but one that was infinitely interesting.
“I’m leaving!” Kibum half shouted to Donghae, who had wandered off in search of the child-sized baseball mitts they kept around.
“No, stay!” Donghae said, popping up out of almost nowhere with gloves and baseball in hand. “There’s only one kid today,” he wheedled. “We’re just going to go play catch for a while while his dad is changing. We can’t play catch with just two people.”
Kibum bit his tongue before he said something along the lines, isn’t that what catch was? Two people throwing a ball back and forth.
“Half an hour.” It wasn’t worth arguing over. If he hated playing catch, he wouldn’t be in baseball. He imagined the evening breezes were starting to blow, taking away some of the worst of the day’s heat as well. “You owe me though.”
Donghae grinned, knowing as well as Kibum did that that subtle threat was useless. But as Kibum turned to retrieve his own glove, Donghae’s hand gripped his wrist. It made his skin itch, which wasn’t a good sign at all.
“You’re wearing your glasses,” Donghae said, sounding a bit odd.
Kibum stared. He’d just then noticed? He’d had them on since he’d showered after the game.
“Yeah, why?”
“You never wear your glasses.”
Oh, the answer to that was easy. Sure, Donghae, I never wear them, but I wanted to see if they made you hot. Is it working?
“Well, I don’t...”
“Ready!”
A boy of about seven raced up to them, grinning with a gaping hole where his front teeth ought to have been.
Donghae switched gears seamlessly, high-fiving the boy and leading him toward the field with Kibum trailing behind after he’d remembered to get his glove. There had been no promise in Donghae’s eyes that their conversation would be continued later. He had the tiniest reason to hope that it was all forgotten.
There was something relaxing about standing in the warm air, the small white ball tossed lazily between their gloves, interrupted only by childish laughter as the ball skittered away. Donghae was showing off, grinning as he caught the ball behind his back, tossing it to Kibum without touching it with his hand. It was a move they had done often during games.
“Kibum?” Donghae called.
Sometimes Kibum would find himself grinning even before he knew what Donghae had called his name for. Because it was Donghae.
It didn’t matter if Kibum wanted him. It didn’t matter if he thought he shouldn’t. There was perpetual motion to the tangled knot inside of him, and it came back always to the same thing. It was Donghae.
In the next moment he had an armful of man, and they toppled like two trees, rolling and fighting, Donghae’s body lean and quick. It was enough to fuel his fantasies for months. The light sheen of sweat on Donghae’s neck, the hands that gripped his shoulder blades as they fought to pin each other.
He hadn’t realized his glasses had fallen off until he heard the sharp, distinctive crack of plastic breaking. Donghae was frozen beneath him, dropping the knee that was trying to beat Kibum’s hip into submission. Kibum was seconds away from making a very telling sound when the boy helpfully popped down beside them, holding up the glasses by the drunkenly hanging plastic arm.
“They broke,” the boy said.
“Shi... Sorry, Kibum,” Donghae said, amending his words for the company they were in and twisting out from under Kibum, who was trying to find it in himself to move. “I’ll fix it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my contacts,” Kibum said, reaching for the glasses.
“No!” Donghae said, snatching them before Kibum could. “I said I’ll fix them. You’ll be able to wear them home.”
The child skipped ahead of them, reassured with smiles from Donghae that all was fine. Donghae had a hand on Kibum’s arm as though he were blind and not just deprived of clarity.
“I can see okay to walk,” Kibum told him.
“If you fell and broke yourself, I can’t fix you with tape,” Donghae said, not moving his hand. “I need you healthy, partner.”
Healthy for so many reasons, Kibum’s mind supplied.
The child was claimed by his father, who thanked them, as Donghae rummaged for tape, humming as he performed some sort of procedure on the broken glasses.
He wouldn’t let Kibum touch them, sliding them onto Kibum’s face himself.
“There, that’s better. You should wear those every day,” Donghae said, straightening the repaired glasses until Kibum wanted to slap his hand away. Finally, though, he stopped and moved back a safe distance.
There was a strange smile on Donghae’s face that had Kibum licking his lips. Mischief sparked with curiosity.
“You think glasses make me look hot?” Kibum asked, mouth curving.
Donghae’s eyes widened. And for a second Kibum was expecting horror, the kind that would have immediately made him regret his words. But Donghae started babbling.
“I don’t... I wasn’t...” Donghae paused, as his hand gripped hard on Kibum’s shoulder. “Wait. Are you trying to make someone hot for you? You never want to dance when we go out... A guy? Someone on the team? Is it Siwon? Though he’s pretty distracted by the new pitcher... Not one of the staff, is it?”
“No!” Kibum nearly shouted, popping to his feet. “No. Why would you think that? I just wanted to wear my glasses today, okay?”
Donghae didn’t really seem convinced, his lips pursed almost into a pout.
“You’d tell me, right? We’re friends, right? You can’t keep secrets from me like that.” Donghae wrapped his arms around Kibum’s uselessly frozen frame, and spoke words that had Kibum’s mind - his heart? - whatever processed the next sentence first, plummeting off of a cliff he hadn’t been prepared for.
“You’re my best friend, Kibum,” Donghae said, his voice soft and earnest.
What would Donghae think if his so-called best friend had begun routinely dreaming of stripping him of his pants, and...
“You know everything I do,” Kibum said, and raised his arms to grip Donghae close.
Everything except that.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kibum/Donghae
Genre: AU, baseball
Summary: On the field, they were a team... Off the field, it's anyone's game.
Fic Archive
***
***
Part One ** Part Two ** Part Three ** Part Four
***
It seemed nothing delighted Donghae so much as the days one of the veteran players would bring in one of their children. Kids flocked to Donghae like flies on food, and neither of the parties were upset by that. Kibum had spent a minute here or there wondering about it. Was it Donghae’s grin? The fact that he got down to their level without respect to his sense of pride or adulthood? If there was a child in the clubhouse, there was a child tagging after Donghae. Or carried laughing in Donghae’s arms, or hanging around his neck in some odd fashion. Even the shy ones gravitated over, like he was a little heat-emitting sun and they just blossomed beside him.
Of course, it was ideal as it kept the children away from those who were a little less in awe of the shorter human forms. In any other life, that probably would’ve been Kibum as well. Not that he disliked kids. They were other people’s kids though, and you couldn’t really say no to them without feeling awkward, and...
But it wasn’t any other life. He and Donghae ruled over the center of the infield. Their lockers were close together. Therefore, all of the children who knew Donghae and doted on Donghae also knew Kibum.
They had taken it on themselves that making Kibum laugh was sort of the pinnacle of challenges. He suspected Donghae was behind that for a reason.
*
After an afternoon game, if the weather was nice and they weren’t terribly tired, Donghae would gladly take any child or children out onto the baseball field. Walking around the diamond, watching the field crew mow or prepare for the next game. The crowds had gone, and all that was left were players and staff. Not quite an idyllic park, but one that was infinitely interesting.
“I’m leaving!” Kibum half shouted to Donghae, who had wandered off in search of the child-sized baseball mitts they kept around.
“No, stay!” Donghae said, popping up out of almost nowhere with gloves and baseball in hand. “There’s only one kid today,” he wheedled. “We’re just going to go play catch for a while while his dad is changing. We can’t play catch with just two people.”
Kibum bit his tongue before he said something along the lines, isn’t that what catch was? Two people throwing a ball back and forth.
“Half an hour.” It wasn’t worth arguing over. If he hated playing catch, he wouldn’t be in baseball. He imagined the evening breezes were starting to blow, taking away some of the worst of the day’s heat as well. “You owe me though.”
Donghae grinned, knowing as well as Kibum did that that subtle threat was useless. But as Kibum turned to retrieve his own glove, Donghae’s hand gripped his wrist. It made his skin itch, which wasn’t a good sign at all.
“You’re wearing your glasses,” Donghae said, sounding a bit odd.
Kibum stared. He’d just then noticed? He’d had them on since he’d showered after the game.
“Yeah, why?”
“You never wear your glasses.”
Oh, the answer to that was easy. Sure, Donghae, I never wear them, but I wanted to see if they made you hot. Is it working?
“Well, I don’t...”
“Ready!”
A boy of about seven raced up to them, grinning with a gaping hole where his front teeth ought to have been.
Donghae switched gears seamlessly, high-fiving the boy and leading him toward the field with Kibum trailing behind after he’d remembered to get his glove. There had been no promise in Donghae’s eyes that their conversation would be continued later. He had the tiniest reason to hope that it was all forgotten.
There was something relaxing about standing in the warm air, the small white ball tossed lazily between their gloves, interrupted only by childish laughter as the ball skittered away. Donghae was showing off, grinning as he caught the ball behind his back, tossing it to Kibum without touching it with his hand. It was a move they had done often during games.
“Kibum?” Donghae called.
Sometimes Kibum would find himself grinning even before he knew what Donghae had called his name for. Because it was Donghae.
It didn’t matter if Kibum wanted him. It didn’t matter if he thought he shouldn’t. There was perpetual motion to the tangled knot inside of him, and it came back always to the same thing. It was Donghae.
In the next moment he had an armful of man, and they toppled like two trees, rolling and fighting, Donghae’s body lean and quick. It was enough to fuel his fantasies for months. The light sheen of sweat on Donghae’s neck, the hands that gripped his shoulder blades as they fought to pin each other.
He hadn’t realized his glasses had fallen off until he heard the sharp, distinctive crack of plastic breaking. Donghae was frozen beneath him, dropping the knee that was trying to beat Kibum’s hip into submission. Kibum was seconds away from making a very telling sound when the boy helpfully popped down beside them, holding up the glasses by the drunkenly hanging plastic arm.
“They broke,” the boy said.
“Shi... Sorry, Kibum,” Donghae said, amending his words for the company they were in and twisting out from under Kibum, who was trying to find it in himself to move. “I’ll fix it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my contacts,” Kibum said, reaching for the glasses.
“No!” Donghae said, snatching them before Kibum could. “I said I’ll fix them. You’ll be able to wear them home.”
The child skipped ahead of them, reassured with smiles from Donghae that all was fine. Donghae had a hand on Kibum’s arm as though he were blind and not just deprived of clarity.
“I can see okay to walk,” Kibum told him.
“If you fell and broke yourself, I can’t fix you with tape,” Donghae said, not moving his hand. “I need you healthy, partner.”
Healthy for so many reasons, Kibum’s mind supplied.
The child was claimed by his father, who thanked them, as Donghae rummaged for tape, humming as he performed some sort of procedure on the broken glasses.
He wouldn’t let Kibum touch them, sliding them onto Kibum’s face himself.
“There, that’s better. You should wear those every day,” Donghae said, straightening the repaired glasses until Kibum wanted to slap his hand away. Finally, though, he stopped and moved back a safe distance.
There was a strange smile on Donghae’s face that had Kibum licking his lips. Mischief sparked with curiosity.
“You think glasses make me look hot?” Kibum asked, mouth curving.
Donghae’s eyes widened. And for a second Kibum was expecting horror, the kind that would have immediately made him regret his words. But Donghae started babbling.
“I don’t... I wasn’t...” Donghae paused, as his hand gripped hard on Kibum’s shoulder. “Wait. Are you trying to make someone hot for you? You never want to dance when we go out... A guy? Someone on the team? Is it Siwon? Though he’s pretty distracted by the new pitcher... Not one of the staff, is it?”
“No!” Kibum nearly shouted, popping to his feet. “No. Why would you think that? I just wanted to wear my glasses today, okay?”
Donghae didn’t really seem convinced, his lips pursed almost into a pout.
“You’d tell me, right? We’re friends, right? You can’t keep secrets from me like that.” Donghae wrapped his arms around Kibum’s uselessly frozen frame, and spoke words that had Kibum’s mind - his heart? - whatever processed the next sentence first, plummeting off of a cliff he hadn’t been prepared for.
“You’re my best friend, Kibum,” Donghae said, his voice soft and earnest.
What would Donghae think if his so-called best friend had begun routinely dreaming of stripping him of his pants, and...
“You know everything I do,” Kibum said, and raised his arms to grip Donghae close.
Everything except that.
***