Jays2 (7/?)
Title: Jays2 (7/?)
Genre: J2 RPS, AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared although - Heh! You know major league teams have 25-man rosters, right?
Rating: PG-13 (NC-17 for later episodes)
Warnings: Language, Baseball, Schmoop, Angst, Boy-Sexin’
Word Count: 4,284
Disclaimer: Fiction not fact. All these beautiful guys belong to themselves. Jensen and Jared belong to each other, we all know that :D Only the words are mine. No copyright infringement intended for the use of the MLB teams/players/logos, the Toronto Star, or Rogers Sportsnet. This is for fun, not profit.
A/N: You know, I’ve been meaning to provide a glossary of baseball terms for those unfamiliar with the sport but I keep forgetting. So in a separate post on my fic comm,the8threalm, I’ll explain some of the terminology I use. You can check it out if you’re interested. Otherwise, read on, friends, read on. Enjoy! Comments = Love!
Summary: As we saw in the last episode, baseball season is in full swing, and the Jays had to be reminded that it’s not about winning or losing, it’s how you play the game. Of course, this is no consolation when you lose, and lose, and then, just for kicks, lose some more. It’s funny then, when quite innocuously, a song off the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing heralds the winds of change and the Jays post a win, and another win, and heck, one more for the road. So things start looking up for the team... but what about our two favourite players? Brace yourselves, could that be angst on the horizon?
Seven: It’s How You Play The Game
Jensen had always been a slow riser in the mornings. It wasn’t that he was not a morning person or anything; he had nothing against mornings - mornings were good - it’s just that he had a little trouble getting started on them. Once he got going, he was golden - ready to face the day and whatever adversity or adventure it held. Some mornings were better than others though, and this morning... this morning was one of the best he’d had in a while.
He groaned appreciatively deep in his throat, so goddamned comfortable and relaxed and cozy-warm in the air-conditioned room, that he was loath to roll out of bed. He nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his lips brushed against the softness of the pillowcase. He tried his best to bury his face deeper into the pillow, the arm he had wrapped around it tightening, his nose seeking warmth, his face still revelling in the velvety brush of cloth against his skin.
So soft. So spicy-sweet smelling. So firm. It was perfect.
Then the pillow moved.
Jensen frowned slightly. Still half-asleep, his brain refused to rouse itself long enough to analyse the situation, so he merely snuggled closer, seeking comfort, his lips parting on a sigh.
Then the pillow moaned.
He cracked one eye open a fraction of an inch but didn’t see anything even mildly concerning, so he closed it again.
Then the pillow hugged him.
Well, that’s different, he mused drowsily. Pillows don’t hug, people do. Oh. Ohhh. So perhaps he had picked up a chick the night before, and she smelled really, really good. He went exploring with his face, inching over the body beside and somewhat beneath him, until his mouth brushed against warm skin. Ah. Yes. Definitely a person, and not a pillow.
As he pressed a sleepy kiss to whatever bit of skin he had discovered; her body shifted from where he was draped all over it, and suddenly a pair of lips brushed against his, tentative at first but then warm and moist and welcoming as they closed over his. This time, he moaned. It was a good kiss. It was a really good kiss. What an awesome way to wake up, he thought, as he slipped his tongue out to lick across the soft bottom lip of the girl he was kissing. Another frown creased his forehead at that moment: he had no recollection of this chick he had brought home. And fuck, how much had he had to drink that he couldn’t even remember going out in the first place? And oh boy, her tongue was now in his mouth and it felt kind of perfect and so hot and sweet and sexy and what had he been thinking before?
He whimpered as she pulled back slightly but then a pleased smile grew on his face when she drew his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking at it, alternately nipping and biting, before laving it with her talented tongue. God, it felt fucking amazing and his dick swelled in his boxers from mere morning wood to yes-fuck-now proportions. He grunted as he ground against her hip, and a breathy sigh left her mouth, whooshing against his spit-slicked lips, the cooling sensation strangely arousing. She smiled too; he could feel it against his mouth and it made him oddly happy. That was weird; it wasn’t like him to be this intimate with his one-nighters, and yet, here he was... cuddling, and happy about it.
Weird.
Jensen Ackles was not a cuddler.
Cuddle me and die, asshole.
His eyes popped open in shock as he heard his own words resound inside his head.
And before his brain could even process the thought What. The. Fuck., Jensen had catapulted out of bed, falling to the floor in a tangle of sheets as he stared at the man sleeping soundly in his bed.
Fuck.
Jensen fell back against the floor until his head thumped soundly against the wooden slats. He grimaced but welcomed the pain, because seriously? He deserved the pain. His hand went unbidden to his crotch, palming and pressing down on his erection, desperately trying to will it away.
He froze when Jared made a sleepy sound. Shit. Gathering the shreds of his sanity around him like a cloak, he scrambled to his feet and raced to the ensuite bathroom before his friend could wake. Holy fucking hell, he thought, as he stood with his back against the bathroom door. Thank God Jared was still fast asleep; he didn’t even want to think of what would have happened had he been awake. Jesus. He didn’t want to think period. Yes, he nodded at his reflection in the mirror.
He was never going to think of this again.
|*|*|*|
“I’m sorry!”
“Whatever.”
“Tommy! You were right, okay? I was an ass.”
“Make it up to the team, not me.”
Mike’s shoulders slumped. “Where’d you sleep last night?”
“Jensen and Jared’s. But you already knew that. I heard Jared speaking to you last night after I turned in.”
“I was worried.”
“I didn’t mean to make you worry... I just needed some space.”
“You’re coming back home tonight, right?”
Tom exhaled loudly, looking at him in exasperation. “Yes, Michael.”
“And you still love me, right?” Mike cheekily grinned at him.
“The jury’s still out on that one,” Tom deadpanned.
“Aww, tell me you love me, Tommy.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Michael.” Mike’s jaw actually dropped. How the hell did he always manage to screw himself so royally? God. Disappointment sounded like a death knell right then.
“I’m sorry!”
“That’s not good enough.” And with that, Tom turned and walked away. Mike stared after him in shock.
“Tom,” Mike caught up to the other man as he neared the mound to practice with Beach, and turned him around. “Yes, I was selfish,” he admitted, not caring that the others guys could hear him now... in fact, that might be better, he thought, and he turned to face the rest of the team as they wrapped up their conditioning exercises.”Guys, gather round - I need to say something.”
Tom sighed in resignation, but he too paid attention. Now, if only he would look Mike in the face. Pissy bitch, Mike regarded him affectionately.
“What is it, man?” Beach looked at him.
“So,” Mike hedged, mulling over his words, “I think maybe - okay, no definitely - Tom made a good point yesterday. I have been a selfish prick. I have been too focused on me, when I should have been focused on the team. Tommy called me on it and yeah, I was pissed, but that doesn’t make it any less true,” he huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, guys... I’ve let you all down and I’ve been a shitty leader and I would totally understand if you wanted to elect someone else to take over as team captain...”
“Hey, no way, man,” Chad piped up.
“Yeah,” Misha was quick to agree. “So you were a bit of a douche... happens to the best of us. Doesn’t mean we’re not gonna look to you to lead us to... er... you know - victory or whatever.”
Chad shook his head at his roommate. “Eloquent.”
“Yeah, like you would know, asswipe.”
“Since when did you start cussing?” Chad looked at Misha in bewilderment. “What happened to zen and balanced chakras and shit?”
“You know about chakras?”
“God, you only talk about them all the fucking time!”
“I never thought you were listening.”
“I listen!”
“Umm, guys,” Mike grinned at them, “this is my moment. You two can sort out your marital problems on your own time.” He looked at his team. “Show of hands, and I won’t hold it against you if you disagree. Is everyone all right with me being captain? I’m still the Player’s Union rep, but I can get that changed too if you guys want.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rosie,” Kane stared him down. “You’ve led this team from the day you got here. I, for one, trust your instincts. All in favour?” Kane raised his hand and it was immediately followed by everyone else raising their hands in assent.
Mike looked over at Kripke and the coaches, and they smiled and nodded back at him. “Awesome. You guys are the best!” Then he looked at Tom... and yeah, all right, so he was still in the dog-house. Leaving Tom to pitch with Adam, Mike herded the rest of the team together and headed to the outfield for an impromptu pep talk. He had a lot of making up to do with Tom though, and suddenly, he knew just the right way in which to do it.
|*|*|*|
“Looking good, Welling,” Adam told him as Tom threw the last practice pitch.
Tom thanked him and rolled his shoulders, closing his eyes and praying for patience when he saw Mike and some of the pitching crew approach homeplate while the rest of the team strolled up behind him. Adam gave him a quizzical look and he shrugged. He hadn’t a clue what was going on, although he got a funny feeling of impending idiocy when he saw the silly smile on Mike’s face. He groaned in anticipation of whatever his stupid... Mike had planned.
He didn’t have long to wait though, because Mike sauntered close, smirking at him, and when he opened his mouth, his words made Tom wish he could bury his flushed head in the dirt on the mound.
“You broke my heart, ‘cause I couldn’t dance,” Mike said, as the strains of a familiar song filled the ballpark, “you didn’t even want me around. And now I’m back to let you know...” Mike poked him in the chest, before he backed away a couple of steps and shimmied his hips. Shimmied his hips. Goddamned idiot. “... I can really shake ‘em down!”
“Do you love me?” He sang with verve, his voice loud and gravelly and totally in tune, while the bullpen - minus Boreanaz and Salling, of course, because they had some sense of propriety, or they were just ornery, anti-social bastards, whatever - provided back-up vocals and did a little choreographed shake-and-shimmy of their own.
Do you love me?
(I can really move)
Do you love me?
(I'm in the groove)
Ah, do you love me?
(Do you love me?)
Now that I can dance
(Dance)
The infield got into the swing of things, Jared and Jensen flanking Mike on either side, looking like complete and utter spazzes as they attempted to dance.
Watch me now
Oh, (work, work)
Oh, work it out, baby
(Work, work)
Well, you're drivin' me crazy
(Work, work)
With a little bit of soul now...
The outfield came in, even Christian Fucking Kane getting down and dirty. Tom tried desperately not to burst out laughing as Adam joined the fray, doing the twist like his life depended on it.
I can mash-potato,
(I can mash-potato)
And I can do the twist
(I can do the twist)
Now tell me, baby
(Tell me baby)
Do you like it like this?
(Do you like it like this?)
Tell me
(Tell me)
Tell me...
And suddenly, practically in the blink of an eye, the music cut out, the guys dispersed and Mike was just there, in his space, in his face, whispering. “Do you love me, Tommy?”
Tom gave in. Jesus, he was just a man; how could he resist this impossible person in front of him? “I love you, Michael.”
|*|*|*|
Outfielders Benjamin Bratt and Pej Vahdat scanned their teammates running plays around them, goofing off if they thought they could get away with it, lip-syncing to the songs blaring from the speakers at the Rogers Centre. They themselves were taking a break from racing around catching fly balls.
“Do you ever get the feeling that we’re the only two straight guys on this team?” Pej ventured, levelling a speculative glance at Montieth and Salling, both trying to top each other’s highest speeds on their fastballs. When they weren’t snarling at each other like two rabid dogs, that is. Shit, Pej thought to himself, they were like the definition of the term ‘unresolved sexual tension’.
“Nah, man,” Bratt told him, his eyes darting between the team’s two ace pitchers and their surprisingly good second baseman-shortstop power couple. “I was talking to Adam. He’s married and has two kids.”
“Okay, so there’s three of us, then. Or four - I forgot TJ got married... to a girl.”
Bratt smirked. “Those two are cute though.”
“You mean Mr. And Mrs. Padalecki?”
“How do you know it’s not Mr. And Mrs. Ackles?”
“Dude.”
“Just ‘cause Jensen’s prettier, don’t mean he’s the catcher in that relationship. Jared may be huge but he’s like a big puppy dog following that boy around everywhere.”
“Man, Jared’s totally the pitcher.”
“Wanna bet?”
“A c-note.”
“If we ever figure it out.”
“We will. Time will tell, trust me on that.”
“Mmm-hmm. What are your thoughts on Tom and Mike? Who do you think pitches in that relationship?”
They looked at each other, identical leers on their faces, as they spoke in perfect unison. “Mike.”
|*|*|*|
“All right, guys,” Kripke called the team to order when they all returned to the clubhouse after their spontaneous attempt at staging a musical. Kripke grinned at them. He had actually enjoyed the song-and-dance-if-you-could-call-it-that routine; anything was better than Britney Spears, anyway. “Okay, okay, settle down. I have something to say,” He waited until he had everyone’s attention. “So we’ve tried some new things on the field in an attempt to get out of our slump. Some of it has worked, like putting Pine in the starting rotation... and some of it has failed on an epic scale, like splitting up Jared and Jensen on the field. Jesus. Someone smack me upside the head if I ever have that brilliant idea again.”
Jared grinned his usual high-wattage smile and bumped shoulders with Jensen, drawing a smile from him too.
“Anyway, I’ve been considering this for a while, and I think I’ll do a test run today. The Tigers are in town and they’re a decent team. I think if we put some effort into it, we may just get two wins in a row here.”
“Heh, tie our longest winning streak, you mean, Krip?” Bratt joked. Kripke smirked at him.
“Yeah, we haven’t been able to string together three or more wins in a row yet... I think it’s something to shoot for, don’t you? Call it an attainable goal,” he studied his team, and took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m mixing up the batting line-up.” The statement was met with total silence. “Now, now, don’t go getting your panties in a bunch, boys. I’m just switching things up a bit, making things interesting. It works, well and good - it doesn’t, we go back to the drawing board...”
“Sounds like a plan, Krip,” Mike grinned, “let’s hear it.”
|*|*|*|
Rogers Sportsnet Post-Game Broadcast:
Blue Jays Central with Matt Campbell and Caroline Millar
Good afternoon, and welcome to Blue Jays Central on Rogers Sportsnet. I’m Matt Campbell.
And I’m Caroline Millar. And gosh darn it, how about those Blue Jays?
They’ve finally managed to string together three wins in a row, and hey, maybe there’s something in the air here in Toronto, because after returning home from a dismal road trip out west, the Jays have been impressive out there in the field and at the plate, surprising everyone, but most especially the Detroit Tigers.
Absolutely, Matt. Have you also noticed that the team seems looser, somehow, more relaxed?
Well, you know the Jays have reverted to their hi-jinks from Spring Training; I mean, who can forget the glamorous Ackles-Padalecki ‘nuptials’ when they first got here? And did you catch Mike Rosenbaum serenading teammate Tom Welling at practice the other day?
No! And I still can’t believe I missed that. I heard from some fans who were at the ballpark early that day, and they really got a kick out of it. It’s a good boost for team morale, and it looks like it’s breathed new life into the Jays. It’s definitely too soon to call, but perhaps this is the turnaround Eric Kripke was hoping for when he switched up the batting order.
It was a smart move on Kripke’s part, Caroline, even though there seemed to be no rhyme or reason behind it when he first announced the changes. But let’s face it, the Jays veteran manager knows his team. He’s kept the speedy Hodge in the lead-off position, followed by Bratt, who swings a steady bat and is always a threat on the bases. He’s got power-hitter Adam Beach batting third, and the always reliable Pej Vahdat batting clean-up. Infielders Ackles and Padalecki have moved up and switched places in the order, and rounding out the rest of the line-up are Kane, Collins and Murray.
Let’s talk a little bit about my two favourite Jays this season, Matt: Ackles and Padalecki.
No prizes for guessing that; Sportsnet viewers are well aware who Caroline likes best on this 2012 Jays squad.
Stop, you’re making me blush. Kripke’s move where they were concerned was somewhat expected, since both these players have upped their game in the last month, but I don’t think even Kripke realized how much of a difference it would make to put Ackles ahead of Padalecki in the line-up.
True. Ackles has been having a better time at the plate recently, but that’s because he’s a switch hitter. Padalecki, on the other hand, has more power at the plate.
It’s a different story on the bases though. When Padalecki was hitting ahead of Ackles in the batting order, things were working well, but with Ackles up first now, things are smokin’.
You ain’t kidding. Ackles is much more of a risk-taker on the bases than Padalecki, although Jared’s no slouch in that department if he’s prodded right.
And Jays’ fans can’t deny that Jensen Ackles knows exactly what to do to get Jared Padalecki going. Watching these two guys out there is taking on whole new levels of excitement.
Amen. And since both of them have good speed around the bases, suddenly the middle of the order is a threat to steal and get something going. They are manufacturing runs, something the Jays as a team have not been able to do so far this season. Or last season, come to think of it.
It’s promising, Matt, and this really matters as we head into the All-Star break, the half-way point in the baseball season.
Speaking of the All-Star game, the Jays are sending two players this year: Rosenbaum and Welling, but it’s Yankees starter, and frontrunner for this year’s Cy Young award, Mark Pellegrino who will get the start for the All-Star game.
It should be an exciting game; I, for one, can’t wait for the American League to win again.
Come on! The National League could have a shot at it; they’ve got some pretty hard-hitting players going this year.
Care to make it interesting, Campbell?
You’re on, Millar.
While we discuss the terms of our wager, I’ll throw you back to the studio, for ‘This Week in Baseball’. For Jays Central, I’m Caroline Millar.
Don’t forget, the Jays have a day off tomorrow, but we hope you’ll join us for our next broadcast when the Philadelphia Phillies roll into town. For Rogers Sportsnet, I’m Matt Campbell, saying so long from the Rogers Centre, home of your high-flying Toronto Blue Jays.
|*|*|*|
Jensen flipped his over-easy-easy eggs in the frying pan and waited a few seconds before sliding them onto a plate, not even starting in surprise when big arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders from behind.
“Morning, Angel,” Jared murmured sleepily with a squeeze, calling him by his team nickname, which obviously meant he had to use Jared’s nickname. Jared had a few though, but it was too early in the morning for Jensen’s brain to use one of the more imaginative monikers. So Jensen merely rolled his eyes, which was kind of redundant since Jared couldn’t see his eyes, he realized.
“Morning, Sunshine.”
“Breakfast smells good,” Jared sniffed from his vantage point at Jensen’s shoulder. “I’m starving.”
“Alert the press,” Jensen deadpanned, distracted by the phone ringing. Jared reached out and hit the speaker button on the console, so Jensen answered. “Hello?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Padalecki, is your husband around?”
Fucking Chad, Jensen thought with a grimace. “Asshole,” he muttered, as he looked pointedly at a way-too-amused Jared.
Jared picked up the receiver and had a five-second, monosyllabic conversation with the moron before hanging up.
Jensen frowned mightily. “I swear to God if someone calls me Mrs. Padalecki one more time...”
“Aww, come on, Jen. They’re just messing with ya,” Jared chuckled, affectionately cupping his face in his big hands. Jensen could feel his face flush as anger bubbled up inside him and he, none too gently, shrugged out of the other man’s grip.
“When you touch me like that, Jared - it doesn’t help, man,” Jensen growled. “I'm... I'm just not comfortable with you touching me all the time. It’s... it’s too much, dude. I don’t like it.”
Jared looked taken aback, his features confused as he blinked, unsure as to whether or not Jensen was joking. Jensen just kept looking at him.
“You’re serious,” Jared whispered, hurt clouding his eyes. And crap, that was never Jensen’s intention. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I am saying something...,” Jensen let out a gusty sigh. “Don’t be mad at me, okay, Jared? It’s not that I don’t like you - you’re a good guy. You’re great! Just enough with the touchy-feely crap already.”
Jared tried to cover up his shock, but Jensen knew him. He could see right through the wall Jared was fast trying to put up. “I’m sorry... I’m really sorry, Jen... sen - Jensen. That’s just the way I am.”
A spike of remorse speared Jensen’s chest. “You’re not really like that with anyone else on the team though...”
“They don’t mean as much to me as you do.” The words were said quietly, and Jensen felt like a total and complete jackass.
“I’m not saying I want things to change between us, Jared. I just want you to...”
“Not touch you. I got that.”
“Jared...”
“Naw, it’s cool,” Jared’s mouth turned into a pathetic imitation of a smile. “What kind of friends would we be if we couldn’t be up front with each other, right?”
“Right. Exactly.”
“I’m sorry I made you feel so uncomfortable, Jensen,” he apologized so sincerely that Jensen actually felt his heart constrict in his chest. “Truly, I am.”
“It’s not a big deal... I don’t want to make it a big deal. I just wanted you to be aware of it...”
“Right. Gotcha.” Jared rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes darting between the floor and the door. “So, er... are we still gonna hang out today? At Centre Island?”
Jensen looked at him in shock. “Of course we are! We only get a handful of days off in the season - hell, yeah, we’re going to Centre Island.”
“Cool. Awesome,” he still looked decidedly uncomfortable, and embarrassed, and Jensen really, really regretted his inability to keep his goddamned mouth shut. “Er... so I’ma go take a shower. And get dressed. Umm... you wanna drive down to Harbourfront, or you wanna walk? I mean if we walk, we don’t have to look for parking downtown. I suppose we could take the SUV on the ferry to Centre Island... or we could just rent bikes and ride around the island...”
“Let’s walk,” Jensen interrupted Jared’s painful rambling. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“Yeah. Yeah it is. And less carbon emission that way. Better for the environment. So I’m gonna take a shower...” And with that, he practically ran from the room.
“You already said that,” Jensen whispered to the four walls, and then he looked at the frying pan, where Jared’s omelette was browning nicely. He slid it onto a plate right next to his eggs and stared at the two plates for a full minute. Jared had been hungry, and he hadn’t eaten and now Jensen had lost his appetite, too.
He put the plates in the oven and headed to his room, going through the motions of showering and dressing while cursing himself for being a fool for maybe fucking up the best friendship he’s ever had in his life. When he finally left his room later, it was to find that Jared had rounded up a few of the other players.
“I was talking to John and he said he hadn’t been to Centre Island yet,” Jared explained with a too-bright smile, “and Terry and Cory and Chris and Zach decided to come too. Er... that’s okay, right?”
Jensen forced a smile that felt about as genuine as Jared’s had been. “Yeah, man - the more the merrier.”
“Awesome! Let’s go...you’ll lock up, Jensen?”
“Yeah,” Jensen mumbled as they all left the apartment. Locking the door behind him, he turned just in time to see Jared throw his arm around Cory; the two of them, so close in height, had their heads angled together as Cory told Jared something that made him laugh. A real laugh, this time, a Jared laugh.
Jensen blinked, swallowing hard past the sudden lump in his throat, and tried to breathe in spite of the tightness in his chest that felt a lot like jealousy.
|*|*|*|
Genre: J2 RPS, AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared although - Heh! You know major league teams have 25-man rosters, right?
Rating: PG-13 (NC-17 for later episodes)
Warnings: Language, Baseball, Schmoop, Angst, Boy-Sexin’
Word Count: 4,284
Disclaimer: Fiction not fact. All these beautiful guys belong to themselves. Jensen and Jared belong to each other, we all know that :D Only the words are mine. No copyright infringement intended for the use of the MLB teams/players/logos, the Toronto Star, or Rogers Sportsnet. This is for fun, not profit.
A/N: You know, I’ve been meaning to provide a glossary of baseball terms for those unfamiliar with the sport but I keep forgetting. So in a separate post on my fic comm,the8threalm, I’ll explain some of the terminology I use. You can check it out if you’re interested. Otherwise, read on, friends, read on. Enjoy! Comments = Love!
Summary: As we saw in the last episode, baseball season is in full swing, and the Jays had to be reminded that it’s not about winning or losing, it’s how you play the game. Of course, this is no consolation when you lose, and lose, and then, just for kicks, lose some more. It’s funny then, when quite innocuously, a song off the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing heralds the winds of change and the Jays post a win, and another win, and heck, one more for the road. So things start looking up for the team... but what about our two favourite players? Brace yourselves, could that be angst on the horizon?
Seven: It’s How You Play The Game
Jensen had always been a slow riser in the mornings. It wasn’t that he was not a morning person or anything; he had nothing against mornings - mornings were good - it’s just that he had a little trouble getting started on them. Once he got going, he was golden - ready to face the day and whatever adversity or adventure it held. Some mornings were better than others though, and this morning... this morning was one of the best he’d had in a while.
He groaned appreciatively deep in his throat, so goddamned comfortable and relaxed and cozy-warm in the air-conditioned room, that he was loath to roll out of bed. He nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his lips brushed against the softness of the pillowcase. He tried his best to bury his face deeper into the pillow, the arm he had wrapped around it tightening, his nose seeking warmth, his face still revelling in the velvety brush of cloth against his skin.
So soft. So spicy-sweet smelling. So firm. It was perfect.
Then the pillow moved.
Jensen frowned slightly. Still half-asleep, his brain refused to rouse itself long enough to analyse the situation, so he merely snuggled closer, seeking comfort, his lips parting on a sigh.
Then the pillow moaned.
He cracked one eye open a fraction of an inch but didn’t see anything even mildly concerning, so he closed it again.
Then the pillow hugged him.
Well, that’s different, he mused drowsily. Pillows don’t hug, people do. Oh. Ohhh. So perhaps he had picked up a chick the night before, and she smelled really, really good. He went exploring with his face, inching over the body beside and somewhat beneath him, until his mouth brushed against warm skin. Ah. Yes. Definitely a person, and not a pillow.
As he pressed a sleepy kiss to whatever bit of skin he had discovered; her body shifted from where he was draped all over it, and suddenly a pair of lips brushed against his, tentative at first but then warm and moist and welcoming as they closed over his. This time, he moaned. It was a good kiss. It was a really good kiss. What an awesome way to wake up, he thought, as he slipped his tongue out to lick across the soft bottom lip of the girl he was kissing. Another frown creased his forehead at that moment: he had no recollection of this chick he had brought home. And fuck, how much had he had to drink that he couldn’t even remember going out in the first place? And oh boy, her tongue was now in his mouth and it felt kind of perfect and so hot and sweet and sexy and what had he been thinking before?
He whimpered as she pulled back slightly but then a pleased smile grew on his face when she drew his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking at it, alternately nipping and biting, before laving it with her talented tongue. God, it felt fucking amazing and his dick swelled in his boxers from mere morning wood to yes-fuck-now proportions. He grunted as he ground against her hip, and a breathy sigh left her mouth, whooshing against his spit-slicked lips, the cooling sensation strangely arousing. She smiled too; he could feel it against his mouth and it made him oddly happy. That was weird; it wasn’t like him to be this intimate with his one-nighters, and yet, here he was... cuddling, and happy about it.
Weird.
Jensen Ackles was not a cuddler.
Cuddle me and die, asshole.
His eyes popped open in shock as he heard his own words resound inside his head.
And before his brain could even process the thought What. The. Fuck., Jensen had catapulted out of bed, falling to the floor in a tangle of sheets as he stared at the man sleeping soundly in his bed.
Fuck.
Jensen fell back against the floor until his head thumped soundly against the wooden slats. He grimaced but welcomed the pain, because seriously? He deserved the pain. His hand went unbidden to his crotch, palming and pressing down on his erection, desperately trying to will it away.
He froze when Jared made a sleepy sound. Shit. Gathering the shreds of his sanity around him like a cloak, he scrambled to his feet and raced to the ensuite bathroom before his friend could wake. Holy fucking hell, he thought, as he stood with his back against the bathroom door. Thank God Jared was still fast asleep; he didn’t even want to think of what would have happened had he been awake. Jesus. He didn’t want to think period. Yes, he nodded at his reflection in the mirror.
He was never going to think of this again.
|*|*|*|
“I’m sorry!”
“Whatever.”
“Tommy! You were right, okay? I was an ass.”
“Make it up to the team, not me.”
Mike’s shoulders slumped. “Where’d you sleep last night?”
“Jensen and Jared’s. But you already knew that. I heard Jared speaking to you last night after I turned in.”
“I was worried.”
“I didn’t mean to make you worry... I just needed some space.”
“You’re coming back home tonight, right?”
Tom exhaled loudly, looking at him in exasperation. “Yes, Michael.”
“And you still love me, right?” Mike cheekily grinned at him.
“The jury’s still out on that one,” Tom deadpanned.
“Aww, tell me you love me, Tommy.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Michael.” Mike’s jaw actually dropped. How the hell did he always manage to screw himself so royally? God. Disappointment sounded like a death knell right then.
“I’m sorry!”
“That’s not good enough.” And with that, Tom turned and walked away. Mike stared after him in shock.
“Tom,” Mike caught up to the other man as he neared the mound to practice with Beach, and turned him around. “Yes, I was selfish,” he admitted, not caring that the others guys could hear him now... in fact, that might be better, he thought, and he turned to face the rest of the team as they wrapped up their conditioning exercises.”Guys, gather round - I need to say something.”
Tom sighed in resignation, but he too paid attention. Now, if only he would look Mike in the face. Pissy bitch, Mike regarded him affectionately.
“What is it, man?” Beach looked at him.
“So,” Mike hedged, mulling over his words, “I think maybe - okay, no definitely - Tom made a good point yesterday. I have been a selfish prick. I have been too focused on me, when I should have been focused on the team. Tommy called me on it and yeah, I was pissed, but that doesn’t make it any less true,” he huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, guys... I’ve let you all down and I’ve been a shitty leader and I would totally understand if you wanted to elect someone else to take over as team captain...”
“Hey, no way, man,” Chad piped up.
“Yeah,” Misha was quick to agree. “So you were a bit of a douche... happens to the best of us. Doesn’t mean we’re not gonna look to you to lead us to... er... you know - victory or whatever.”
Chad shook his head at his roommate. “Eloquent.”
“Yeah, like you would know, asswipe.”
“Since when did you start cussing?” Chad looked at Misha in bewilderment. “What happened to zen and balanced chakras and shit?”
“You know about chakras?”
“God, you only talk about them all the fucking time!”
“I never thought you were listening.”
“I listen!”
“Umm, guys,” Mike grinned at them, “this is my moment. You two can sort out your marital problems on your own time.” He looked at his team. “Show of hands, and I won’t hold it against you if you disagree. Is everyone all right with me being captain? I’m still the Player’s Union rep, but I can get that changed too if you guys want.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rosie,” Kane stared him down. “You’ve led this team from the day you got here. I, for one, trust your instincts. All in favour?” Kane raised his hand and it was immediately followed by everyone else raising their hands in assent.
Mike looked over at Kripke and the coaches, and they smiled and nodded back at him. “Awesome. You guys are the best!” Then he looked at Tom... and yeah, all right, so he was still in the dog-house. Leaving Tom to pitch with Adam, Mike herded the rest of the team together and headed to the outfield for an impromptu pep talk. He had a lot of making up to do with Tom though, and suddenly, he knew just the right way in which to do it.
|*|*|*|
“Looking good, Welling,” Adam told him as Tom threw the last practice pitch.
Tom thanked him and rolled his shoulders, closing his eyes and praying for patience when he saw Mike and some of the pitching crew approach homeplate while the rest of the team strolled up behind him. Adam gave him a quizzical look and he shrugged. He hadn’t a clue what was going on, although he got a funny feeling of impending idiocy when he saw the silly smile on Mike’s face. He groaned in anticipation of whatever his stupid... Mike had planned.
He didn’t have long to wait though, because Mike sauntered close, smirking at him, and when he opened his mouth, his words made Tom wish he could bury his flushed head in the dirt on the mound.
“You broke my heart, ‘cause I couldn’t dance,” Mike said, as the strains of a familiar song filled the ballpark, “you didn’t even want me around. And now I’m back to let you know...” Mike poked him in the chest, before he backed away a couple of steps and shimmied his hips. Shimmied his hips. Goddamned idiot. “... I can really shake ‘em down!”
“Do you love me?” He sang with verve, his voice loud and gravelly and totally in tune, while the bullpen - minus Boreanaz and Salling, of course, because they had some sense of propriety, or they were just ornery, anti-social bastards, whatever - provided back-up vocals and did a little choreographed shake-and-shimmy of their own.
Do you love me?
(I can really move)
Do you love me?
(I'm in the groove)
Ah, do you love me?
(Do you love me?)
Now that I can dance
(Dance)
The infield got into the swing of things, Jared and Jensen flanking Mike on either side, looking like complete and utter spazzes as they attempted to dance.
Watch me now
Oh, (work, work)
Oh, work it out, baby
(Work, work)
Well, you're drivin' me crazy
(Work, work)
With a little bit of soul now...
The outfield came in, even Christian Fucking Kane getting down and dirty. Tom tried desperately not to burst out laughing as Adam joined the fray, doing the twist like his life depended on it.
I can mash-potato,
(I can mash-potato)
And I can do the twist
(I can do the twist)
Now tell me, baby
(Tell me baby)
Do you like it like this?
(Do you like it like this?)
Tell me
(Tell me)
Tell me...
And suddenly, practically in the blink of an eye, the music cut out, the guys dispersed and Mike was just there, in his space, in his face, whispering. “Do you love me, Tommy?”
Tom gave in. Jesus, he was just a man; how could he resist this impossible person in front of him? “I love you, Michael.”
|*|*|*|
Outfielders Benjamin Bratt and Pej Vahdat scanned their teammates running plays around them, goofing off if they thought they could get away with it, lip-syncing to the songs blaring from the speakers at the Rogers Centre. They themselves were taking a break from racing around catching fly balls.
“Do you ever get the feeling that we’re the only two straight guys on this team?” Pej ventured, levelling a speculative glance at Montieth and Salling, both trying to top each other’s highest speeds on their fastballs. When they weren’t snarling at each other like two rabid dogs, that is. Shit, Pej thought to himself, they were like the definition of the term ‘unresolved sexual tension’.
“Nah, man,” Bratt told him, his eyes darting between the team’s two ace pitchers and their surprisingly good second baseman-shortstop power couple. “I was talking to Adam. He’s married and has two kids.”
“Okay, so there’s three of us, then. Or four - I forgot TJ got married... to a girl.”
Bratt smirked. “Those two are cute though.”
“You mean Mr. And Mrs. Padalecki?”
“How do you know it’s not Mr. And Mrs. Ackles?”
“Dude.”
“Just ‘cause Jensen’s prettier, don’t mean he’s the catcher in that relationship. Jared may be huge but he’s like a big puppy dog following that boy around everywhere.”
“Man, Jared’s totally the pitcher.”
“Wanna bet?”
“A c-note.”
“If we ever figure it out.”
“We will. Time will tell, trust me on that.”
“Mmm-hmm. What are your thoughts on Tom and Mike? Who do you think pitches in that relationship?”
They looked at each other, identical leers on their faces, as they spoke in perfect unison. “Mike.”
|*|*|*|
“All right, guys,” Kripke called the team to order when they all returned to the clubhouse after their spontaneous attempt at staging a musical. Kripke grinned at them. He had actually enjoyed the song-and-dance-if-you-could-call-it-that routine; anything was better than Britney Spears, anyway. “Okay, okay, settle down. I have something to say,” He waited until he had everyone’s attention. “So we’ve tried some new things on the field in an attempt to get out of our slump. Some of it has worked, like putting Pine in the starting rotation... and some of it has failed on an epic scale, like splitting up Jared and Jensen on the field. Jesus. Someone smack me upside the head if I ever have that brilliant idea again.”
Jared grinned his usual high-wattage smile and bumped shoulders with Jensen, drawing a smile from him too.
“Anyway, I’ve been considering this for a while, and I think I’ll do a test run today. The Tigers are in town and they’re a decent team. I think if we put some effort into it, we may just get two wins in a row here.”
“Heh, tie our longest winning streak, you mean, Krip?” Bratt joked. Kripke smirked at him.
“Yeah, we haven’t been able to string together three or more wins in a row yet... I think it’s something to shoot for, don’t you? Call it an attainable goal,” he studied his team, and took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m mixing up the batting line-up.” The statement was met with total silence. “Now, now, don’t go getting your panties in a bunch, boys. I’m just switching things up a bit, making things interesting. It works, well and good - it doesn’t, we go back to the drawing board...”
“Sounds like a plan, Krip,” Mike grinned, “let’s hear it.”
|*|*|*|
Rogers Sportsnet Post-Game Broadcast:
Blue Jays Central with Matt Campbell and Caroline Millar
Good afternoon, and welcome to Blue Jays Central on Rogers Sportsnet. I’m Matt Campbell.
And I’m Caroline Millar. And gosh darn it, how about those Blue Jays?
They’ve finally managed to string together three wins in a row, and hey, maybe there’s something in the air here in Toronto, because after returning home from a dismal road trip out west, the Jays have been impressive out there in the field and at the plate, surprising everyone, but most especially the Detroit Tigers.
Absolutely, Matt. Have you also noticed that the team seems looser, somehow, more relaxed?
Well, you know the Jays have reverted to their hi-jinks from Spring Training; I mean, who can forget the glamorous Ackles-Padalecki ‘nuptials’ when they first got here? And did you catch Mike Rosenbaum serenading teammate Tom Welling at practice the other day?
No! And I still can’t believe I missed that. I heard from some fans who were at the ballpark early that day, and they really got a kick out of it. It’s a good boost for team morale, and it looks like it’s breathed new life into the Jays. It’s definitely too soon to call, but perhaps this is the turnaround Eric Kripke was hoping for when he switched up the batting order.
It was a smart move on Kripke’s part, Caroline, even though there seemed to be no rhyme or reason behind it when he first announced the changes. But let’s face it, the Jays veteran manager knows his team. He’s kept the speedy Hodge in the lead-off position, followed by Bratt, who swings a steady bat and is always a threat on the bases. He’s got power-hitter Adam Beach batting third, and the always reliable Pej Vahdat batting clean-up. Infielders Ackles and Padalecki have moved up and switched places in the order, and rounding out the rest of the line-up are Kane, Collins and Murray.
Let’s talk a little bit about my two favourite Jays this season, Matt: Ackles and Padalecki.
No prizes for guessing that; Sportsnet viewers are well aware who Caroline likes best on this 2012 Jays squad.
Stop, you’re making me blush. Kripke’s move where they were concerned was somewhat expected, since both these players have upped their game in the last month, but I don’t think even Kripke realized how much of a difference it would make to put Ackles ahead of Padalecki in the line-up.
True. Ackles has been having a better time at the plate recently, but that’s because he’s a switch hitter. Padalecki, on the other hand, has more power at the plate.
It’s a different story on the bases though. When Padalecki was hitting ahead of Ackles in the batting order, things were working well, but with Ackles up first now, things are smokin’.
You ain’t kidding. Ackles is much more of a risk-taker on the bases than Padalecki, although Jared’s no slouch in that department if he’s prodded right.
And Jays’ fans can’t deny that Jensen Ackles knows exactly what to do to get Jared Padalecki going. Watching these two guys out there is taking on whole new levels of excitement.
Amen. And since both of them have good speed around the bases, suddenly the middle of the order is a threat to steal and get something going. They are manufacturing runs, something the Jays as a team have not been able to do so far this season. Or last season, come to think of it.
It’s promising, Matt, and this really matters as we head into the All-Star break, the half-way point in the baseball season.
Speaking of the All-Star game, the Jays are sending two players this year: Rosenbaum and Welling, but it’s Yankees starter, and frontrunner for this year’s Cy Young award, Mark Pellegrino who will get the start for the All-Star game.
It should be an exciting game; I, for one, can’t wait for the American League to win again.
Come on! The National League could have a shot at it; they’ve got some pretty hard-hitting players going this year.
Care to make it interesting, Campbell?
You’re on, Millar.
While we discuss the terms of our wager, I’ll throw you back to the studio, for ‘This Week in Baseball’. For Jays Central, I’m Caroline Millar.
Don’t forget, the Jays have a day off tomorrow, but we hope you’ll join us for our next broadcast when the Philadelphia Phillies roll into town. For Rogers Sportsnet, I’m Matt Campbell, saying so long from the Rogers Centre, home of your high-flying Toronto Blue Jays.
|*|*|*|
Jensen flipped his over-easy-easy eggs in the frying pan and waited a few seconds before sliding them onto a plate, not even starting in surprise when big arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders from behind.
“Morning, Angel,” Jared murmured sleepily with a squeeze, calling him by his team nickname, which obviously meant he had to use Jared’s nickname. Jared had a few though, but it was too early in the morning for Jensen’s brain to use one of the more imaginative monikers. So Jensen merely rolled his eyes, which was kind of redundant since Jared couldn’t see his eyes, he realized.
“Morning, Sunshine.”
“Breakfast smells good,” Jared sniffed from his vantage point at Jensen’s shoulder. “I’m starving.”
“Alert the press,” Jensen deadpanned, distracted by the phone ringing. Jared reached out and hit the speaker button on the console, so Jensen answered. “Hello?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Padalecki, is your husband around?”
Fucking Chad, Jensen thought with a grimace. “Asshole,” he muttered, as he looked pointedly at a way-too-amused Jared.
Jared picked up the receiver and had a five-second, monosyllabic conversation with the moron before hanging up.
Jensen frowned mightily. “I swear to God if someone calls me Mrs. Padalecki one more time...”
“Aww, come on, Jen. They’re just messing with ya,” Jared chuckled, affectionately cupping his face in his big hands. Jensen could feel his face flush as anger bubbled up inside him and he, none too gently, shrugged out of the other man’s grip.
“When you touch me like that, Jared - it doesn’t help, man,” Jensen growled. “I'm... I'm just not comfortable with you touching me all the time. It’s... it’s too much, dude. I don’t like it.”
Jared looked taken aback, his features confused as he blinked, unsure as to whether or not Jensen was joking. Jensen just kept looking at him.
“You’re serious,” Jared whispered, hurt clouding his eyes. And crap, that was never Jensen’s intention. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I am saying something...,” Jensen let out a gusty sigh. “Don’t be mad at me, okay, Jared? It’s not that I don’t like you - you’re a good guy. You’re great! Just enough with the touchy-feely crap already.”
Jared tried to cover up his shock, but Jensen knew him. He could see right through the wall Jared was fast trying to put up. “I’m sorry... I’m really sorry, Jen... sen - Jensen. That’s just the way I am.”
A spike of remorse speared Jensen’s chest. “You’re not really like that with anyone else on the team though...”
“They don’t mean as much to me as you do.” The words were said quietly, and Jensen felt like a total and complete jackass.
“I’m not saying I want things to change between us, Jared. I just want you to...”
“Not touch you. I got that.”
“Jared...”
“Naw, it’s cool,” Jared’s mouth turned into a pathetic imitation of a smile. “What kind of friends would we be if we couldn’t be up front with each other, right?”
“Right. Exactly.”
“I’m sorry I made you feel so uncomfortable, Jensen,” he apologized so sincerely that Jensen actually felt his heart constrict in his chest. “Truly, I am.”
“It’s not a big deal... I don’t want to make it a big deal. I just wanted you to be aware of it...”
“Right. Gotcha.” Jared rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes darting between the floor and the door. “So, er... are we still gonna hang out today? At Centre Island?”
Jensen looked at him in shock. “Of course we are! We only get a handful of days off in the season - hell, yeah, we’re going to Centre Island.”
“Cool. Awesome,” he still looked decidedly uncomfortable, and embarrassed, and Jensen really, really regretted his inability to keep his goddamned mouth shut. “Er... so I’ma go take a shower. And get dressed. Umm... you wanna drive down to Harbourfront, or you wanna walk? I mean if we walk, we don’t have to look for parking downtown. I suppose we could take the SUV on the ferry to Centre Island... or we could just rent bikes and ride around the island...”
“Let’s walk,” Jensen interrupted Jared’s painful rambling. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“Yeah. Yeah it is. And less carbon emission that way. Better for the environment. So I’m gonna take a shower...” And with that, he practically ran from the room.
“You already said that,” Jensen whispered to the four walls, and then he looked at the frying pan, where Jared’s omelette was browning nicely. He slid it onto a plate right next to his eggs and stared at the two plates for a full minute. Jared had been hungry, and he hadn’t eaten and now Jensen had lost his appetite, too.
He put the plates in the oven and headed to his room, going through the motions of showering and dressing while cursing himself for being a fool for maybe fucking up the best friendship he’s ever had in his life. When he finally left his room later, it was to find that Jared had rounded up a few of the other players.
“I was talking to John and he said he hadn’t been to Centre Island yet,” Jared explained with a too-bright smile, “and Terry and Cory and Chris and Zach decided to come too. Er... that’s okay, right?”
Jensen forced a smile that felt about as genuine as Jared’s had been. “Yeah, man - the more the merrier.”
“Awesome! Let’s go...you’ll lock up, Jensen?”
“Yeah,” Jensen mumbled as they all left the apartment. Locking the door behind him, he turned just in time to see Jared throw his arm around Cory; the two of them, so close in height, had their heads angled together as Cory told Jared something that made him laugh. A real laugh, this time, a Jared laugh.
Jensen blinked, swallowing hard past the sudden lump in his throat, and tried to breathe in spite of the tightness in his chest that felt a lot like jealousy.
|*|*|*|