Happy Birthday Cassie!!!!!! <3
My dear Cassie!! I love you so very much, you are a wonderful person. I consider myself very lucky that I have you as a friend and it all started with that Baseball AU, last June. It's only fair that I give you a new chapter of it, especially since you poke so nicely! =D
Have a great birthday! It would not be the same without you *loves* ♥
New friends, if you don't know that AU, it's pretty simple. I love baseball. So I made my own baseball team. Jack is a veteran catcher, Sawyer a hotshot relief pitcher. Both are very gay. Christian is head coach, Hurley the owner. They are all there, even if I don’t mention them (I will, eventually). Oh and Kate the reporter is gone God knows where ;)
3 previous chapters linked after the header, but I think this one pretty much stands on its own.
Title: Up and away, chapter 4/?
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer in a very alternate universe. They are baseball players. And since it's MY team, the new rookies... well... might crossover from Supernatural (but I think it works if you don't know them ;) )
Rating: NC-17
Length: about 3700 words
A/N: For my dear keyweegirlie, with all my love. I cannot thank enough kkath and themoononastick for their great help as betas. They did an awesome job.
part 1
part 2
part 3
Up and away (chapter 4)
Jack has been staring at the alarm clock for what seems for hours when the music starts. Finally. He’s been resisting the urge to toss and turn for far too long, energy coursing through his veins. Beside him, Sawyer is not surprisingly still sleeping like the dead. He lets Tom Jones sing and scoots forward until he is flush with Sawyer's back, nose buried in the soft hair of his nape. Jack takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of shampoo, faint cologne, and Sawyer himself. He smells so good. Jack kisses him softly behind the ear, murmuring
“Good morning sunshine.”
Sawyer groans and stirs a bit. Jack kisses him once more and waits, just staying close, knowing better than to hurry him. After maybe a minute, Sawyer does a full body stretch while leaning back on him. Jack smiles, and nuzzles his neck once more.
“Hey.”
“Mhhrrrmmm.”
“Vacation's over baby, got to wake up.”
Sawyer lets out a sound that can only be described as a desperate wail, making Jack giggle.
“Not funny.” Sawyer grumbles.
He reaches back and takes Jack's arm, pulling it to wrap it around his torso, and holds it close.
“20 minutes.” He declares, ready to doze off again using Jack as a blanket.
Jack had anticipated something like that, so he'd set the alarm clock half an hour earlier than the absolute limit. He doesn't feel like staying still though. At all. He is jittery like every first day of spring training, ready to get the show on the road. And Sawyer, all soft skin and hard muscle against him leads him to think about many things, but sleep is not one of them. The fact becomes obvious to Sawyer quite fast, even through his sleepy haze. He nudges back.
“You're poking me.”
Jack bites Sawyer's neck before licking it and grinding his erection against his ass.
“Uh huh.”
Sawyer likes sleeping, but he loves sex a whole lot more. Slowly, gentle motions lead to them rocking against each other with more and more purpose. After a couple of minutes, Sawyer takes Jack's hand from his chest and slides it down towards his groin, groaning when Jack wraps his fingers around his cock.
“Yeah, that's more like it.” Jack says, stroking him firmly, which makes Sawyer growl and start moving in time, pushing into Jack's touch. As much as he'd like to fuck him hard, there is no time to do it properly, so Jack rolls on top of Sawyer, straddling his thighs. There is not a more beautiful thing in the world than Sawyer against crisp white sheets. His deep tan glowing and his features still soft from sleep, framed by messy hair and pupils blown out with lust.
“God, Sawyer, you have no idea what you do to me.”
Sawyer smiles wickedly, displaying those dimples and Jack revises his opinion: that is probably the most beautiful thing in the world.
“It's a gift.”
Jack grins, spits in his hand and proceeds to wipe that smartass smile from his face by jerking him just the way he likes, with a twist of the wrist every few strokes. He's deeply satisfied when Sawyer gasps and his eyes roll up into his head.
“Yeah, you cocky bastard. But I have a gift too, remember? I know how to make you scream.”
Jack speeds up as Sawyer's breathing gets ragged and his hips start raising up and off. He's biting his lower lip, probably not to cry out and prove Jack right. Jack's dick is throbbing and aching for attention, so he moves and positions himself so he can take the two of them in his hand, sharp waves of pleasure shooting through him at the contact and delightful pressure. Sawyer manages to prop himself on his elbows and just stares at what Jack's doing, mouth agape, eyes glassy.
“Fuck.. fuck Jack! So good. Yes.”
Jack leans in and kisses him hard, fucking Sawyer's mouth with his tongue, claiming him. Sawyer yields and opens wide, needy sounds coming out of him as he bucks up without much control. He's very close, teetering on the edge, almost shaking. Jack nips at his lower lip and orders:
“C'mon Sawyer, come for me. Now.”
Sawyer takes in a shaky breath, and then his head falls back hard on the pillow when his arms give out as he obeys and comes in Jack's hand, a deep groan coming out of him. Jack revises his earlier opinion as what exactly is the most beautiful thing in the world, and with the added slickness of Sawyer's semen, he is following him over the edge in a heartbeat. White heat spreads through him and blinds him for a second as he feels like someone turns him inside out, release hitting hard, wiping everything from his mind but pure bliss. Once the rush passes, he focuses on Sawyer's face, sated and content.
“You are the best alarm clock ever Doc.”
He purrs, stretching under Jack. Jack rolls on his side, smiling.
“What can I say? You are lucky.”
Sawyer reaches for the back of his neck and pulls him in for a wet sloppy kiss. When he breaks away, his eyes are soft, so clear. He brushes his fingers on Jack's jaw.
“For sure. But if it was supposed to make me want to get up...” He flops his arm back on his side, and closes his eyes, sighing softly.
Jack rolls his eyes.
“Sawyer!!! Let's go! Shower and we're going. Come on. You know you want to go impress and terrorize the kids that will show up!”
Sawyer's eyes half open at that and he looks at him from the corner of his eyes, dimples framing a mischievous smile.
“Now that sounds like a great idea.”
~~
The conversations are loud and lively in the locker room, everyone greeting and hugging after the couple of months of downtime. Some look in better shape then others, like always. And of course everyone avoids mentioning the ones that have been traded off in the winter, like Michael.
Even the head coach himself, Christian Shephard, is smiling as he greets everyone. When he gets to Jack they shake hands.
“Jack.”
“Dad.”
Jack has been spending the fall and winter with Sawyer, and he avoided his family apart from a phone call here and there and the awkward Christmas dinner. Jack brought a grumpy Sawyer as a “friend” that had nowhere else to be (which was sadly true), and everyone had behaved and exchanged meaningless gifts and empty vows, before getting home as soon as it was decently possible.
Christian had raised an eyebrow with a smirk at seeing Jack and Sawyer come in the lockers at the same time earlier, and Jack feels angry and defiant.
“Come in my office, will you? We have to talk.”
Fear comes back in Jack: he is not ready to have everything in the open, not yet. He is convinced that his father would do anything he could to sabotage what he has with Sawyer, if he knew, most probably by trading him. And that is too hard to conceive. Jack glances towards Sawyer who's laughing with Charlie, oblivious to Jack's distress. Sayid, who always sees everything, gives him a little nod of encouragement and Jack follows his father into the small office of the stadium.
Christian sits down and indicates a chair for Jack. To Jack's relief, he skips over any snide comments and gets down to business immediately.
“I'll need your help evaluating a couple of young pitchers today. I've read good reports and seen nice enough things in the last couple of days, but I want you to test them, hard. Don't go soft on them, I want to see what they are made of.”
Typical, Jack thinks. Being tough is Coach Shephard's trademark. He knows it first hand.
“Anyone in particular?”
Christian starts ruffling though the paper littering his desk, clearly not finding what he is looking for, even when he puts on his reading glasses.
“Where did I put this? Anyhow, there is this Carl, young one, he seems fine enough but a bit soft, I wonder how he'll deal with pressure. Probably AA material for now. But the one I want you to check thoroughly is our draft pick from Stanford. He led the Cardinals to win the NCAA College World Series last season. Winchester. Sam Winchester.”
Jack shrugs.
“Sure. I'll check them out.”
Christian looks at him over his glasses, up and down, evaluating.
“You seem in nice enough shape, but you are not getting any younger. Be sure to do your fair share of batting practice. If you want any credibility as a captain, you'll have to set the example.”
Jack blinks and holds his breath, not sure he heard right. Did his father just nominate him captain? His heart speeds up, a warm feeling spreading through him.
“Captain?”
His father looks towards the ceiling, annoyed.
“Tsk. Yes. A brilliant idea by Reyes, to heighten team spirit. They'll sew the “C” on your uniforms soon.”
And just like that, Jack feels two inches high once more. He sets his jaw and bites down angry words.
“Is it all, Sir?”
Christian dismisses him with a vague wave, still shuffling in his papers.
“Yes. Get to work. Vacation is over, make sure to spread the word.”
~~
Leaning on the batting cage, Jack is chatting with Hurley while someone gets the Winchester kid. His good mood is back, and the great reaction he had from the team mates after the announcement of his nomination is certainly part of it. Plus, well... he's back doing what he loves, what he does best. He played catch with Sawyer over the winter, making sure his lazy boyfriend didn't get out of shape, but being back with the boys on the diamond is something else. The sun is warm, the air is sweet and it's baseball.
“Dude, I went to see that guy in Palo Alto and he's awesome. He never lost his cool once. I'm sure he'll be great for us.”
Jack smiles at Hurley.
“That's good. But it was college baseball Hurley, and he might have to go into the minors first. That's what I'm here to see.”
Hurley looks disappointed, but his face lights up as the kid gets closer. He's jogging towards them, and takes his hat in one hand, a mop of brown hair falling into big hazel eyes as he extends his right to shake. He smiles shyly at Jack.
“Sam Winchester, Sir” he says, enveloping Jack hand with a huge paw, shaking firmly. Before turning to Hurley. “Mr. Reyes.”
“Hey Sam! Happy to see you!”
The kid breaks into a blinding smile at that.
“Thank you Sir. It's awesome to be here.”
Jack examines him, the wide shoulders and never ending limbs, and likes what he sees. Someone ate his crumbs as a kid, it seems. He picks up his notepad and addresses Sam.
“So, what do you got to work with, Sam?”
Sam looks back at him, standing up straight as if he's doing a military salute, but chewing his lower lip.
“I have a good curve, breaking ball too, and---“
“A killer fastball!! Dude, it smokes!” Finishes Hurley, making Sam look down at his shoes, smiling once more. Jack snorts. When Hurley likes someone, he's one hell of a cheerleader.
“Is that all, Sam?”
Sam glances over his shoulder for a second and focuses back on him in a flash.
“I'm working on a sliding ball too. But Dean says it's not ready.”
Jack frowns.
“Dean? Is that your coach from Stanford?”
Sam blushes, clearly he's regretting that he talked about it.
“No. no. Dean's my brother. Never mind. I'm working hard on it though.”
Jack smiles, reassuring. He seems like a good boy, and he'll see that for himself.
“Okay, Sam, get up there and show us.”
Sam jogs to the mound and Jack motions to Gary, the kid he has helping them for catching, to crouch behind the place. Not surprisingly, Sam starts pitching hard right from the start, obviously trying to impress. The problem is that his nervousness is making him lack control. He's about to cry out to tell him to relax when they hear a loud shout from the seats behind them.
“SAM-MAY!! Breathe, Jesus! Start slow!”
Jack and Hurley look back and see a young man, hands on hips, brows furrowed. Jack looks back at Sam who is giving the guy a bitch face, clearly mouthing 'Dean' as a warning. Jack smiles. Obviously the well meaning brother.
“He's right, Sam!” Jack cries out. “Take it easy.”
Sam looks half devastated.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's ok! Show me that curve ball.”
Sam glares one more time towards the seats and takes a deep breath, before starting into motion and pitching a perfect curve, even if a bit high.
“Attaboy!” comes from behind and both Hurley and Jack snicker at the death glare that follows from the mound. Jack makes Sam try many variations on the curve and breaking ball, which the kid surely controls very well once he's into the groove. Jack itches to catch himself, so he makes the young batboy fetch his glove in the dugout and shoos Gary away.
“Very nice Sam. Now you'll show me the fastball.” He announces, getting in position. “Start medium and speed up with each pitch.”
Sam swipes the sweat off his forehead and starts his motion, which is quite awkward with those never ending legs of his. He pitches well, and slowly goes harder and harder, although not exceptionally so. Not what the leverage the height this guy has should give him. Jack does not know him enough to be sure, but something seems off in the delivery. He hears the brother in the seats cry out after a dozen of pitches.
“Dammit, Sammy! What the hell are you doing? Your shoulder! And get that knee higher!”
“Shuddup Dean!” Sam cries out, furious, pointing his glove as a menace.
“Sam!” Jack barks. Sam looks at him with widened eyes, startled. “Come on. Focus. Give it to me.”
“Yes, sir.” he says, apologetic.
Jack notices that he takes his brother's suggestions into account and the next fastball comes in so fast, it hurts Jack's hand a bit. He hears hoots but doesn't let Sam bask into being proud of himself, throws him the ball back and orders:
“Again, Sam!”
He makes him pitch fastball after fastball for a good five minutes, and to his surprise they never lose speed. Sam is now totally focused and hits the mark wherever Jack puts his glove. He's not pitching as fast as Sawyer can, not yet, he thinks, but it's definitely major league material. His hand is getting numb.
He gets up, motioning to Gary to come and take his place once more.
“Very good. Keep going.”
Sam smiles and Jack takes his glove off, flexing his hand. After thinking for a second, he walks towards the spectators. As he gets closer, he sizes up the dark blond brother and decides that good looks surely run into the family. Dean looks sure of himself but curious to see him approaching. At the last second he looks down, then up from under his awfully long eyelashes.
“I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't want to disturb you and all.”
Jack tilts his head.
“Dean, right?” Dean nods. “You've been coaching him?”
Dean shrugs.
“Not for real, but I got him to practice a lot. I know him, he's nervous and impressed, that's why he's pitching so bad today. You have to give him a chance.”
Jack scoffs.
“Bad? What I just saw was not exactly horrible.”
Dean smiles and crinkles appear at the corner of his green eyes.
“Believe me, he's better with someone at the bat. Try him.”
That's a good idea in fact. He looks at Dean and makes a decision. He'll need more input and he seems to know Sam inside out and something about baseball on top of it.
“Come with me.” He says, and Dean grins and does as he's told, jumping easily on the field and falling in step beside him as they go back towards the batting cage. Once there, Dean shakes hands with Hurley while Jack whispers to the batboy.
“Dean Winchester, Sir.”
Hurley smiles and nudges Jack with his elbow.
“Dude, those guys are polite. I like that.”
Sam has seen Dean follow Jack on the field and he doesn't look happy. Dean laughs softly as he comes close to whisper to Jack.
“Oh boy, he's going to throw one hell of a hissy fit later.”
Jack's quite distracted for a second at the closeness but they suddenly have company.
“Hey, boss! And Captain.” Jack is startled at the sound of Sawyer, and takes a step away from Dean without even thinking of it. Hurley gives Sawyer a bear hug.
“Hey, Sawyer. Tired of running with the others?” he teases.
Sawyer grunts and stands at Jack's side, looking at Sam.
“Yeah. If you only knew how much I hate that crap. Kid's not bad though.” He turns to Dean, detailing him quickly. “And who's your pretty friend here, Doc?”
Dean eyebrows shoot up but Jack answers first.
“His brother, Dean. Pitcher is Sam. I have a couple of questions.”
Dean gives Sawyer a smartass grin and Jack can't help to worry that this could get ugly. Timely diversion arrives in the huge shape of Eko and his enormous Louiseville slugger.
“You asked for me, Jack?”
“Yes, Eko. I'd like that you go hit some balls with Sam here.”
Dean grins some more.
“Great. And you didn't send for a wuss, that's great.” He tells Jack, almost bouncy, and that makes Jack smile back.
“You're awfully confident in your brother's capacities.”
Dean shrugs, watching as Eko does a couple of practice swings, before standing in the box. Jack turns to observe Sam, who seems to focus even more now that he has someone in front of him, and doesn't look impressed at all to face one of the best power hitters in baseball.
“If he can strike me out, I'm sure that he'll do good,” he hears Dean say.
Jack smiles at the cockiness. He likes the guy. Sam pitches and Eko lets a good curve ball pass, strike one. Sawyer mocks:
“Strike you out huh? And why aren't you trying out like him if you're so good?”
Jack turns to check them out and Dean smiles at Sawyer but it's hard and cold this time.
“Some got work to do. I had to pass on college, Sir.”
Sawyer frowns and nods, acknowledging the point. They all turn back to look at Sam, who's pretty much having the upper hand on Eko. Dean's right. He's even better with someone at the bat. After a couple of minutes, Eko stops and turns to Jack.
“Do I need to continue this Jack?”
Jack shakes his head. He's seen enough, for now.
“Thanks Eko, that's enough.”
Eko looks almost relieved and stares quizzically at his bat, swinging it a bit as he goes. Upon an impulse, Jack turns to Dean.
“You can hit him good?”
Dean smirks.
“Most days.”
“Show me.”
Dean rubs some dirt on his hands and swipes them on his jeans before taking a bat and going to the plate. Sawyer and Hurley come closer.
“Why try him Jack?” Sawyer asks.
“A feeling, that's all. Doesn't hurt to try.”
Sam's brow furrows and he looks at Jack, as if he has to ask permission.
“Go on!” he urges.
Dean gets in place.
“C'mon Sammy. And give me all you got, bitch.”
Sawyer snorts in amusement and Sam clenches his jaw. He goes straight for the fastball… which Dean hits hard on the nose with one of the most fluid swing Jack has seen in ages. Dean laughs and Gary throws a new ball at Sam, who's literally fuming. For the next 10 minutes, Jack, Sawyer and Hurley observe a clash of will and talent, Dean hitting Sam about once every 3 pitches… twice as much as Eko. Something coils in Jack at the show, knowing he's witnessing something out of the ordinary. Hurley finally sums their thoughts.
“Daaaaamn.”
That makes Jack and Sawyer snap out of their trance. Playing skeptic, Sawyer chimes in
“Kid's getting tired. And he's probably giving him a couple of easy ones.”
Jack disagrees, as Sam seems pretty much still efficient. He whistles to the guys that have started gathering on the side line, looking at the show.
“Paolo. Come here.”
Paolo comes toward Jack, curious but trying to seem blasé, as always.
“Yes?”
Jack shoots to Sam.
“Sam? Come here a second, Paolo is going to pitch to Dean a bit.”
Paolo gets the drift and they change places. Sam almost kicks at the dirt in frustration, glaring at Dean, who looks worried for a minute, as if he fears he busted his brother's chances.
“Fuck.” Sam swears under his breath, chest heaving from the effort, not meeting Jack's eyes.
“Hey, you did great. I figure he knows you like no one.”
Sam sighs and finally looks up.
“Yeah. And he's really good, the best hitter I know. He could have had a scholarship too, but our dad… well…” he trails off, eyes going distant. Jack feels a flash of anger. How could a man let his son waste a talent like that?
Jack turns to look at Dean, now focusing on Paolo. At first, he doesn't even swing, studying the new pitcher. But when he starts to swing, he tilts him like a fucking pinball machine, hitting every single pitch, over and over again, and the ones he doesn't hit, he doesn't even swing and they are clearly balls.
“Daaaaaaamn,” provides Hurley, again.
Even Sawyer whistle softly, and Sam's grin is wide and proud.
Jack turns to Sam, his thoughts twirling with possibilities.
“He sure can hit… what is he worth in defence?”
Sam looks down at him, still smiling.
“He's great. Quick, amazing reflexes. Reads the game like no one else.”
He has to try him out. It's worth it, at least. Nothing to lose, he thinks for the second time.
“What position?”
Sam bites his lip, now avoiding his eyes.
“Catcher.”
Jack only can blink as he hears Sawyer start laughing.
***
Part 5 is now here
OKAY!!
So why Sam as a pitcher?
He asked for it!!!
(pics Arizona Diamondbacks vs Los Angeles Dodgers, credit to SN media )
AND Jensen was on the baseball team in his high school (alas I don't know what position), so it's not that much of a stretch either!
keyweegirlie did today's icon at my request, btw! YAY! She knew I was plotting this. It just took way longer than I expected. Sorry babe!
Finally… useless trivia info: researching the team's name at Stanford, they did win the NCAA in 2006! Lol! weird, huh???
Have a great birthday! It would not be the same without you *loves* ♥
New friends, if you don't know that AU, it's pretty simple. I love baseball. So I made my own baseball team. Jack is a veteran catcher, Sawyer a hotshot relief pitcher. Both are very gay. Christian is head coach, Hurley the owner. They are all there, even if I don’t mention them (I will, eventually). Oh and Kate the reporter is gone God knows where ;)
3 previous chapters linked after the header, but I think this one pretty much stands on its own.
Title: Up and away, chapter 4/?
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer in a very alternate universe. They are baseball players. And since it's MY team, the new rookies... well... might crossover from Supernatural (but I think it works if you don't know them ;) )
Rating: NC-17
Length: about 3700 words
A/N: For my dear keyweegirlie, with all my love. I cannot thank enough kkath and themoononastick for their great help as betas. They did an awesome job.
part 1
part 2
part 3
Up and away (chapter 4)
Jack has been staring at the alarm clock for what seems for hours when the music starts. Finally. He’s been resisting the urge to toss and turn for far too long, energy coursing through his veins. Beside him, Sawyer is not surprisingly still sleeping like the dead. He lets Tom Jones sing and scoots forward until he is flush with Sawyer's back, nose buried in the soft hair of his nape. Jack takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of shampoo, faint cologne, and Sawyer himself. He smells so good. Jack kisses him softly behind the ear, murmuring
“Good morning sunshine.”
Sawyer groans and stirs a bit. Jack kisses him once more and waits, just staying close, knowing better than to hurry him. After maybe a minute, Sawyer does a full body stretch while leaning back on him. Jack smiles, and nuzzles his neck once more.
“Hey.”
“Mhhrrrmmm.”
“Vacation's over baby, got to wake up.”
Sawyer lets out a sound that can only be described as a desperate wail, making Jack giggle.
“Not funny.” Sawyer grumbles.
He reaches back and takes Jack's arm, pulling it to wrap it around his torso, and holds it close.
“20 minutes.” He declares, ready to doze off again using Jack as a blanket.
Jack had anticipated something like that, so he'd set the alarm clock half an hour earlier than the absolute limit. He doesn't feel like staying still though. At all. He is jittery like every first day of spring training, ready to get the show on the road. And Sawyer, all soft skin and hard muscle against him leads him to think about many things, but sleep is not one of them. The fact becomes obvious to Sawyer quite fast, even through his sleepy haze. He nudges back.
“You're poking me.”
Jack bites Sawyer's neck before licking it and grinding his erection against his ass.
“Uh huh.”
Sawyer likes sleeping, but he loves sex a whole lot more. Slowly, gentle motions lead to them rocking against each other with more and more purpose. After a couple of minutes, Sawyer takes Jack's hand from his chest and slides it down towards his groin, groaning when Jack wraps his fingers around his cock.
“Yeah, that's more like it.” Jack says, stroking him firmly, which makes Sawyer growl and start moving in time, pushing into Jack's touch. As much as he'd like to fuck him hard, there is no time to do it properly, so Jack rolls on top of Sawyer, straddling his thighs. There is not a more beautiful thing in the world than Sawyer against crisp white sheets. His deep tan glowing and his features still soft from sleep, framed by messy hair and pupils blown out with lust.
“God, Sawyer, you have no idea what you do to me.”
Sawyer smiles wickedly, displaying those dimples and Jack revises his opinion: that is probably the most beautiful thing in the world.
“It's a gift.”
Jack grins, spits in his hand and proceeds to wipe that smartass smile from his face by jerking him just the way he likes, with a twist of the wrist every few strokes. He's deeply satisfied when Sawyer gasps and his eyes roll up into his head.
“Yeah, you cocky bastard. But I have a gift too, remember? I know how to make you scream.”
Jack speeds up as Sawyer's breathing gets ragged and his hips start raising up and off. He's biting his lower lip, probably not to cry out and prove Jack right. Jack's dick is throbbing and aching for attention, so he moves and positions himself so he can take the two of them in his hand, sharp waves of pleasure shooting through him at the contact and delightful pressure. Sawyer manages to prop himself on his elbows and just stares at what Jack's doing, mouth agape, eyes glassy.
“Fuck.. fuck Jack! So good. Yes.”
Jack leans in and kisses him hard, fucking Sawyer's mouth with his tongue, claiming him. Sawyer yields and opens wide, needy sounds coming out of him as he bucks up without much control. He's very close, teetering on the edge, almost shaking. Jack nips at his lower lip and orders:
“C'mon Sawyer, come for me. Now.”
Sawyer takes in a shaky breath, and then his head falls back hard on the pillow when his arms give out as he obeys and comes in Jack's hand, a deep groan coming out of him. Jack revises his earlier opinion as what exactly is the most beautiful thing in the world, and with the added slickness of Sawyer's semen, he is following him over the edge in a heartbeat. White heat spreads through him and blinds him for a second as he feels like someone turns him inside out, release hitting hard, wiping everything from his mind but pure bliss. Once the rush passes, he focuses on Sawyer's face, sated and content.
“You are the best alarm clock ever Doc.”
He purrs, stretching under Jack. Jack rolls on his side, smiling.
“What can I say? You are lucky.”
Sawyer reaches for the back of his neck and pulls him in for a wet sloppy kiss. When he breaks away, his eyes are soft, so clear. He brushes his fingers on Jack's jaw.
“For sure. But if it was supposed to make me want to get up...” He flops his arm back on his side, and closes his eyes, sighing softly.
Jack rolls his eyes.
“Sawyer!!! Let's go! Shower and we're going. Come on. You know you want to go impress and terrorize the kids that will show up!”
Sawyer's eyes half open at that and he looks at him from the corner of his eyes, dimples framing a mischievous smile.
“Now that sounds like a great idea.”
~~
The conversations are loud and lively in the locker room, everyone greeting and hugging after the couple of months of downtime. Some look in better shape then others, like always. And of course everyone avoids mentioning the ones that have been traded off in the winter, like Michael.
Even the head coach himself, Christian Shephard, is smiling as he greets everyone. When he gets to Jack they shake hands.
“Jack.”
“Dad.”
Jack has been spending the fall and winter with Sawyer, and he avoided his family apart from a phone call here and there and the awkward Christmas dinner. Jack brought a grumpy Sawyer as a “friend” that had nowhere else to be (which was sadly true), and everyone had behaved and exchanged meaningless gifts and empty vows, before getting home as soon as it was decently possible.
Christian had raised an eyebrow with a smirk at seeing Jack and Sawyer come in the lockers at the same time earlier, and Jack feels angry and defiant.
“Come in my office, will you? We have to talk.”
Fear comes back in Jack: he is not ready to have everything in the open, not yet. He is convinced that his father would do anything he could to sabotage what he has with Sawyer, if he knew, most probably by trading him. And that is too hard to conceive. Jack glances towards Sawyer who's laughing with Charlie, oblivious to Jack's distress. Sayid, who always sees everything, gives him a little nod of encouragement and Jack follows his father into the small office of the stadium.
Christian sits down and indicates a chair for Jack. To Jack's relief, he skips over any snide comments and gets down to business immediately.
“I'll need your help evaluating a couple of young pitchers today. I've read good reports and seen nice enough things in the last couple of days, but I want you to test them, hard. Don't go soft on them, I want to see what they are made of.”
Typical, Jack thinks. Being tough is Coach Shephard's trademark. He knows it first hand.
“Anyone in particular?”
Christian starts ruffling though the paper littering his desk, clearly not finding what he is looking for, even when he puts on his reading glasses.
“Where did I put this? Anyhow, there is this Carl, young one, he seems fine enough but a bit soft, I wonder how he'll deal with pressure. Probably AA material for now. But the one I want you to check thoroughly is our draft pick from Stanford. He led the Cardinals to win the NCAA College World Series last season. Winchester. Sam Winchester.”
Jack shrugs.
“Sure. I'll check them out.”
Christian looks at him over his glasses, up and down, evaluating.
“You seem in nice enough shape, but you are not getting any younger. Be sure to do your fair share of batting practice. If you want any credibility as a captain, you'll have to set the example.”
Jack blinks and holds his breath, not sure he heard right. Did his father just nominate him captain? His heart speeds up, a warm feeling spreading through him.
“Captain?”
His father looks towards the ceiling, annoyed.
“Tsk. Yes. A brilliant idea by Reyes, to heighten team spirit. They'll sew the “C” on your uniforms soon.”
And just like that, Jack feels two inches high once more. He sets his jaw and bites down angry words.
“Is it all, Sir?”
Christian dismisses him with a vague wave, still shuffling in his papers.
“Yes. Get to work. Vacation is over, make sure to spread the word.”
~~
Leaning on the batting cage, Jack is chatting with Hurley while someone gets the Winchester kid. His good mood is back, and the great reaction he had from the team mates after the announcement of his nomination is certainly part of it. Plus, well... he's back doing what he loves, what he does best. He played catch with Sawyer over the winter, making sure his lazy boyfriend didn't get out of shape, but being back with the boys on the diamond is something else. The sun is warm, the air is sweet and it's baseball.
“Dude, I went to see that guy in Palo Alto and he's awesome. He never lost his cool once. I'm sure he'll be great for us.”
Jack smiles at Hurley.
“That's good. But it was college baseball Hurley, and he might have to go into the minors first. That's what I'm here to see.”
Hurley looks disappointed, but his face lights up as the kid gets closer. He's jogging towards them, and takes his hat in one hand, a mop of brown hair falling into big hazel eyes as he extends his right to shake. He smiles shyly at Jack.
“Sam Winchester, Sir” he says, enveloping Jack hand with a huge paw, shaking firmly. Before turning to Hurley. “Mr. Reyes.”
“Hey Sam! Happy to see you!”
The kid breaks into a blinding smile at that.
“Thank you Sir. It's awesome to be here.”
Jack examines him, the wide shoulders and never ending limbs, and likes what he sees. Someone ate his crumbs as a kid, it seems. He picks up his notepad and addresses Sam.
“So, what do you got to work with, Sam?”
Sam looks back at him, standing up straight as if he's doing a military salute, but chewing his lower lip.
“I have a good curve, breaking ball too, and---“
“A killer fastball!! Dude, it smokes!” Finishes Hurley, making Sam look down at his shoes, smiling once more. Jack snorts. When Hurley likes someone, he's one hell of a cheerleader.
“Is that all, Sam?”
Sam glances over his shoulder for a second and focuses back on him in a flash.
“I'm working on a sliding ball too. But Dean says it's not ready.”
Jack frowns.
“Dean? Is that your coach from Stanford?”
Sam blushes, clearly he's regretting that he talked about it.
“No. no. Dean's my brother. Never mind. I'm working hard on it though.”
Jack smiles, reassuring. He seems like a good boy, and he'll see that for himself.
“Okay, Sam, get up there and show us.”
Sam jogs to the mound and Jack motions to Gary, the kid he has helping them for catching, to crouch behind the place. Not surprisingly, Sam starts pitching hard right from the start, obviously trying to impress. The problem is that his nervousness is making him lack control. He's about to cry out to tell him to relax when they hear a loud shout from the seats behind them.
“SAM-MAY!! Breathe, Jesus! Start slow!”
Jack and Hurley look back and see a young man, hands on hips, brows furrowed. Jack looks back at Sam who is giving the guy a bitch face, clearly mouthing 'Dean' as a warning. Jack smiles. Obviously the well meaning brother.
“He's right, Sam!” Jack cries out. “Take it easy.”
Sam looks half devastated.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's ok! Show me that curve ball.”
Sam glares one more time towards the seats and takes a deep breath, before starting into motion and pitching a perfect curve, even if a bit high.
“Attaboy!” comes from behind and both Hurley and Jack snicker at the death glare that follows from the mound. Jack makes Sam try many variations on the curve and breaking ball, which the kid surely controls very well once he's into the groove. Jack itches to catch himself, so he makes the young batboy fetch his glove in the dugout and shoos Gary away.
“Very nice Sam. Now you'll show me the fastball.” He announces, getting in position. “Start medium and speed up with each pitch.”
Sam swipes the sweat off his forehead and starts his motion, which is quite awkward with those never ending legs of his. He pitches well, and slowly goes harder and harder, although not exceptionally so. Not what the leverage the height this guy has should give him. Jack does not know him enough to be sure, but something seems off in the delivery. He hears the brother in the seats cry out after a dozen of pitches.
“Dammit, Sammy! What the hell are you doing? Your shoulder! And get that knee higher!”
“Shuddup Dean!” Sam cries out, furious, pointing his glove as a menace.
“Sam!” Jack barks. Sam looks at him with widened eyes, startled. “Come on. Focus. Give it to me.”
“Yes, sir.” he says, apologetic.
Jack notices that he takes his brother's suggestions into account and the next fastball comes in so fast, it hurts Jack's hand a bit. He hears hoots but doesn't let Sam bask into being proud of himself, throws him the ball back and orders:
“Again, Sam!”
He makes him pitch fastball after fastball for a good five minutes, and to his surprise they never lose speed. Sam is now totally focused and hits the mark wherever Jack puts his glove. He's not pitching as fast as Sawyer can, not yet, he thinks, but it's definitely major league material. His hand is getting numb.
He gets up, motioning to Gary to come and take his place once more.
“Very good. Keep going.”
Sam smiles and Jack takes his glove off, flexing his hand. After thinking for a second, he walks towards the spectators. As he gets closer, he sizes up the dark blond brother and decides that good looks surely run into the family. Dean looks sure of himself but curious to see him approaching. At the last second he looks down, then up from under his awfully long eyelashes.
“I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't want to disturb you and all.”
Jack tilts his head.
“Dean, right?” Dean nods. “You've been coaching him?”
Dean shrugs.
“Not for real, but I got him to practice a lot. I know him, he's nervous and impressed, that's why he's pitching so bad today. You have to give him a chance.”
Jack scoffs.
“Bad? What I just saw was not exactly horrible.”
Dean smiles and crinkles appear at the corner of his green eyes.
“Believe me, he's better with someone at the bat. Try him.”
That's a good idea in fact. He looks at Dean and makes a decision. He'll need more input and he seems to know Sam inside out and something about baseball on top of it.
“Come with me.” He says, and Dean grins and does as he's told, jumping easily on the field and falling in step beside him as they go back towards the batting cage. Once there, Dean shakes hands with Hurley while Jack whispers to the batboy.
“Dean Winchester, Sir.”
Hurley smiles and nudges Jack with his elbow.
“Dude, those guys are polite. I like that.”
Sam has seen Dean follow Jack on the field and he doesn't look happy. Dean laughs softly as he comes close to whisper to Jack.
“Oh boy, he's going to throw one hell of a hissy fit later.”
Jack's quite distracted for a second at the closeness but they suddenly have company.
“Hey, boss! And Captain.” Jack is startled at the sound of Sawyer, and takes a step away from Dean without even thinking of it. Hurley gives Sawyer a bear hug.
“Hey, Sawyer. Tired of running with the others?” he teases.
Sawyer grunts and stands at Jack's side, looking at Sam.
“Yeah. If you only knew how much I hate that crap. Kid's not bad though.” He turns to Dean, detailing him quickly. “And who's your pretty friend here, Doc?”
Dean eyebrows shoot up but Jack answers first.
“His brother, Dean. Pitcher is Sam. I have a couple of questions.”
Dean gives Sawyer a smartass grin and Jack can't help to worry that this could get ugly. Timely diversion arrives in the huge shape of Eko and his enormous Louiseville slugger.
“You asked for me, Jack?”
“Yes, Eko. I'd like that you go hit some balls with Sam here.”
Dean grins some more.
“Great. And you didn't send for a wuss, that's great.” He tells Jack, almost bouncy, and that makes Jack smile back.
“You're awfully confident in your brother's capacities.”
Dean shrugs, watching as Eko does a couple of practice swings, before standing in the box. Jack turns to observe Sam, who seems to focus even more now that he has someone in front of him, and doesn't look impressed at all to face one of the best power hitters in baseball.
“If he can strike me out, I'm sure that he'll do good,” he hears Dean say.
Jack smiles at the cockiness. He likes the guy. Sam pitches and Eko lets a good curve ball pass, strike one. Sawyer mocks:
“Strike you out huh? And why aren't you trying out like him if you're so good?”
Jack turns to check them out and Dean smiles at Sawyer but it's hard and cold this time.
“Some got work to do. I had to pass on college, Sir.”
Sawyer frowns and nods, acknowledging the point. They all turn back to look at Sam, who's pretty much having the upper hand on Eko. Dean's right. He's even better with someone at the bat. After a couple of minutes, Eko stops and turns to Jack.
“Do I need to continue this Jack?”
Jack shakes his head. He's seen enough, for now.
“Thanks Eko, that's enough.”
Eko looks almost relieved and stares quizzically at his bat, swinging it a bit as he goes. Upon an impulse, Jack turns to Dean.
“You can hit him good?”
Dean smirks.
“Most days.”
“Show me.”
Dean rubs some dirt on his hands and swipes them on his jeans before taking a bat and going to the plate. Sawyer and Hurley come closer.
“Why try him Jack?” Sawyer asks.
“A feeling, that's all. Doesn't hurt to try.”
Sam's brow furrows and he looks at Jack, as if he has to ask permission.
“Go on!” he urges.
Dean gets in place.
“C'mon Sammy. And give me all you got, bitch.”
Sawyer snorts in amusement and Sam clenches his jaw. He goes straight for the fastball… which Dean hits hard on the nose with one of the most fluid swing Jack has seen in ages. Dean laughs and Gary throws a new ball at Sam, who's literally fuming. For the next 10 minutes, Jack, Sawyer and Hurley observe a clash of will and talent, Dean hitting Sam about once every 3 pitches… twice as much as Eko. Something coils in Jack at the show, knowing he's witnessing something out of the ordinary. Hurley finally sums their thoughts.
“Daaaaamn.”
That makes Jack and Sawyer snap out of their trance. Playing skeptic, Sawyer chimes in
“Kid's getting tired. And he's probably giving him a couple of easy ones.”
Jack disagrees, as Sam seems pretty much still efficient. He whistles to the guys that have started gathering on the side line, looking at the show.
“Paolo. Come here.”
Paolo comes toward Jack, curious but trying to seem blasé, as always.
“Yes?”
Jack shoots to Sam.
“Sam? Come here a second, Paolo is going to pitch to Dean a bit.”
Paolo gets the drift and they change places. Sam almost kicks at the dirt in frustration, glaring at Dean, who looks worried for a minute, as if he fears he busted his brother's chances.
“Fuck.” Sam swears under his breath, chest heaving from the effort, not meeting Jack's eyes.
“Hey, you did great. I figure he knows you like no one.”
Sam sighs and finally looks up.
“Yeah. And he's really good, the best hitter I know. He could have had a scholarship too, but our dad… well…” he trails off, eyes going distant. Jack feels a flash of anger. How could a man let his son waste a talent like that?
Jack turns to look at Dean, now focusing on Paolo. At first, he doesn't even swing, studying the new pitcher. But when he starts to swing, he tilts him like a fucking pinball machine, hitting every single pitch, over and over again, and the ones he doesn't hit, he doesn't even swing and they are clearly balls.
“Daaaaaaamn,” provides Hurley, again.
Even Sawyer whistle softly, and Sam's grin is wide and proud.
Jack turns to Sam, his thoughts twirling with possibilities.
“He sure can hit… what is he worth in defence?”
Sam looks down at him, still smiling.
“He's great. Quick, amazing reflexes. Reads the game like no one else.”
He has to try him out. It's worth it, at least. Nothing to lose, he thinks for the second time.
“What position?”
Sam bites his lip, now avoiding his eyes.
“Catcher.”
Jack only can blink as he hears Sawyer start laughing.
***
Part 5 is now here
OKAY!!
So why Sam as a pitcher?
He asked for it!!!
(pics Arizona Diamondbacks vs Los Angeles Dodgers, credit to SN media )
AND Jensen was on the baseball team in his high school (alas I don't know what position), so it's not that much of a stretch either!
keyweegirlie did today's icon at my request, btw! YAY! She knew I was plotting this. It just took way longer than I expected. Sorry babe!
Finally… useless trivia info: researching the team's name at Stanford, they did win the NCAA in 2006! Lol! weird, huh???