Cathryn (formerly catslash) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
remindmeofthe) wrote2005-05-16 02:21 pm
remindmeofthe) wrote2005-05-16 02:21 pm
(no subject)
This, apparently, is what happens when I have way too many days off in a row. Somebody please IM me and make me go outside and get some air?
TITLE: "Not That There's . . ."
AUTHOR: Cathryn (catslash33@yahoo.com)
FANDOM: Major League Baseball RPS
PAIRING: Andy Pettitte/Roger Clemens
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Why didn't he see it coming? Set at some vague point during Pettitte's and Clemens's time with the Yankees.
NOTE: Written in forty-seven minutes for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
contrelamontre "frustrated lust" challenge.
DISCLAIMER: So did not happen. Complete fiction. Does not imply anything about anyone mentioned. If you think otherwise, you need to put down the mouse and maybe step back from the baseball for a day or two while you're at, because this? Is the product of my fevered imagination, which frankly could also stand a break from the baseball.
.
The Seinfeldian catchphrase. The one about being gay. Yeah, everyone knows that one. It went from catchphrase to cliché so fast that no one would be caught dead using it unironically these days. Except, perhaps, for Roger Clemens, but if he was really that all-fired concerned about sounding like a clichéd dork, he wouldn't have gone into sports. It's not his fault that the phrase encompasses perfectly what he thinks, and it's not his fault that it flashes into his mind whenever Andy gives him a certain look or a "casual," "friendly" touch.
Actually, that's Andy's goddamn fault. Roger likes the kid, and likes working with him on his pitching, and it would be lying to say that the chance to keep doing just that has absolutely nothing to do with his decision to play for the Astros, but he wishes like hell that Andy had kept himself to himself that time in New York.
**********
The next day's game was an early start for Andy, so he wanted a quiet night, a idea which Roger definitely wanted to encourage, so he suggested just relaxing at Andy's place with a couple movies and some beer. Andy agreed, and they ended up sitting in the dark with a six-pack each and a trashy action flick on the screen.
They hadn't spent much time alone together before then, and Roger thinks now that that might have been subconscious on his part, because with the twenty/twenty clarity of hindsight, he can see that Andy had always been throwing tiny signals his way and that the serious dark eyes hadn't always been fixed on him just to watch his pitching.
In fact, what eventually happened seems so clearly inevitable now that Roger wonders at himself for the shock that hit him so strongly he felt it sting for a second in his nerve endings.
The movie wasn't great, but it was watchable and the explosions looked believeable enough, so Roger was content to just sort of zone out to it. He was vaguely aware of Andy glancing over at him from time to time, but figured he was just bored, and if he was bored, then he could damn well say so and suggest trying a different movie instead of staring at Roger until he asked what was up.
But he just kept doing it and doing it and doing it, until it started to work Roger's nerves. He gave up right then, because letting this weird passive-aggressive display bother him wasn't even worth waiting it out.
"What?" he asked, looking Andy right in the eye. "You bored?"
"No." Andy looked unperturbed, even thoughtful, and matched Roger's annoyed stare with an even gaze.
"Then what?"
Andy kissed him.
And the weird thing, Roger concluded much later once he could think about the whole thing without shying away from it, the really fucking bizarre thing, even weirder than the actual kiss, was Andy's lack of haste. He kissed Roger as though it was perfectly normal, like he had every right to be doing it and no reason to think Roger might object. Gentle and taking his time, lips soft on Roger's and tongue leisurely in his mouth, hands caressing Roger's face and hair.
And that, Roger thinks, is why it didn't blow up, why he didn't push Andy away and give him a harsh lecture and leave and treat him coolly whenever they met after that. Because Andy kissed him as if Roger were kissing him back.
When he was done, he leaned back a little but kept his hands in Roger's hair and looked intently into his eyes. Roger, in the back of his stunned mind, was vaguely aware that he had to say something, had to burst Andy's bubble before it got too big, because even though it was like that with a lot of players, it never had been with him and never would be.
". . . Andy . . ." he said, but luckily didn't need to get any further than that, because Andy sighed.
"I know," he said quietly. "That's all I get. I knew that." He slid a hand down over Roger's cheek, sighed again, then abruptly turned back to the movie, moving back down to his end of the couch.
***********
They've never talked about it. Andy clearly preferred to pretend . . . not that it never happened, exactly, but more like it didn't matter that it happened, and Roger was more than happy to go along with that. Still is. Because he's not sure what it is for Andy, lust or love or crush or hero worship or what, but it hasn't gone away over time the way Roger hoped it would. Andy's behavior with him is impeccable, no hinting or flirting or any crap like that, and Roger appreciates that, and he knows that the respect between them is too strong for Andy to ever try anything again. But once in a while, he'll feel a light touch on his shoulder, or look over to see Andy look away, and he wonders how much it's costing Andy to restrain himself.
TITLE: "Not That There's . . ."
AUTHOR: Cathryn (catslash33@yahoo.com)
FANDOM: Major League Baseball RPS
PAIRING: Andy Pettitte/Roger Clemens
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Why didn't he see it coming? Set at some vague point during Pettitte's and Clemens's time with the Yankees.
NOTE: Written in forty-seven minutes for the
contrelamontre "frustrated lust" challenge.DISCLAIMER: So did not happen. Complete fiction. Does not imply anything about anyone mentioned. If you think otherwise, you need to put down the mouse and maybe step back from the baseball for a day or two while you're at, because this? Is the product of my fevered imagination, which frankly could also stand a break from the baseball.
.
The Seinfeldian catchphrase. The one about being gay. Yeah, everyone knows that one. It went from catchphrase to cliché so fast that no one would be caught dead using it unironically these days. Except, perhaps, for Roger Clemens, but if he was really that all-fired concerned about sounding like a clichéd dork, he wouldn't have gone into sports. It's not his fault that the phrase encompasses perfectly what he thinks, and it's not his fault that it flashes into his mind whenever Andy gives him a certain look or a "casual," "friendly" touch.
Actually, that's Andy's goddamn fault. Roger likes the kid, and likes working with him on his pitching, and it would be lying to say that the chance to keep doing just that has absolutely nothing to do with his decision to play for the Astros, but he wishes like hell that Andy had kept himself to himself that time in New York.
**********
The next day's game was an early start for Andy, so he wanted a quiet night, a idea which Roger definitely wanted to encourage, so he suggested just relaxing at Andy's place with a couple movies and some beer. Andy agreed, and they ended up sitting in the dark with a six-pack each and a trashy action flick on the screen.
They hadn't spent much time alone together before then, and Roger thinks now that that might have been subconscious on his part, because with the twenty/twenty clarity of hindsight, he can see that Andy had always been throwing tiny signals his way and that the serious dark eyes hadn't always been fixed on him just to watch his pitching.
In fact, what eventually happened seems so clearly inevitable now that Roger wonders at himself for the shock that hit him so strongly he felt it sting for a second in his nerve endings.
The movie wasn't great, but it was watchable and the explosions looked believeable enough, so Roger was content to just sort of zone out to it. He was vaguely aware of Andy glancing over at him from time to time, but figured he was just bored, and if he was bored, then he could damn well say so and suggest trying a different movie instead of staring at Roger until he asked what was up.
But he just kept doing it and doing it and doing it, until it started to work Roger's nerves. He gave up right then, because letting this weird passive-aggressive display bother him wasn't even worth waiting it out.
"What?" he asked, looking Andy right in the eye. "You bored?"
"No." Andy looked unperturbed, even thoughtful, and matched Roger's annoyed stare with an even gaze.
"Then what?"
Andy kissed him.
And the weird thing, Roger concluded much later once he could think about the whole thing without shying away from it, the really fucking bizarre thing, even weirder than the actual kiss, was Andy's lack of haste. He kissed Roger as though it was perfectly normal, like he had every right to be doing it and no reason to think Roger might object. Gentle and taking his time, lips soft on Roger's and tongue leisurely in his mouth, hands caressing Roger's face and hair.
And that, Roger thinks, is why it didn't blow up, why he didn't push Andy away and give him a harsh lecture and leave and treat him coolly whenever they met after that. Because Andy kissed him as if Roger were kissing him back.
When he was done, he leaned back a little but kept his hands in Roger's hair and looked intently into his eyes. Roger, in the back of his stunned mind, was vaguely aware that he had to say something, had to burst Andy's bubble before it got too big, because even though it was like that with a lot of players, it never had been with him and never would be.
". . . Andy . . ." he said, but luckily didn't need to get any further than that, because Andy sighed.
"I know," he said quietly. "That's all I get. I knew that." He slid a hand down over Roger's cheek, sighed again, then abruptly turned back to the movie, moving back down to his end of the couch.
***********
They've never talked about it. Andy clearly preferred to pretend . . . not that it never happened, exactly, but more like it didn't matter that it happened, and Roger was more than happy to go along with that. Still is. Because he's not sure what it is for Andy, lust or love or crush or hero worship or what, but it hasn't gone away over time the way Roger hoped it would. Andy's behavior with him is impeccable, no hinting or flirting or any crap like that, and Roger appreciates that, and he knows that the respect between them is too strong for Andy to ever try anything again. But once in a while, he'll feel a light touch on his shoulder, or look over to see Andy look away, and he wonders how much it's costing Andy to restrain himself.