Work Header

Definitely A Thing

Work Text:


Jesus fucking Christ, yes please.

But that isn’t what comes out of his mouth. The most he can manage is a breathy “Wow.”

David Rose. In a baseball uniform.

Patrick can’t even trust himself to stand from his chair without falling over himself to throw himself at his gorgeous boyfriend.

His gorgeous boyfriend who looks decidedly unimpressed with today’s turn of events.

“Okay. Just so you’re aware, I had a very cute ‘My boyfriend is on the baseball team’ spectator look prepared for today, and now I’m wearing tap shoes.” He points down at the offending footwear like he can’t even bear to look.

“They’re called cleats and I think you look very cute.”

Understatement. David looks incredible and Patrick has to take a deep, steadying breath and remind himself that at least one David’s parents is on the other side of that adjoining door, having heard Johnny on the phone a couple of minutes previously. For all David complained about Ray’s lack of privacy comprehension, the Roses are not that big on knocking either.

Later, he promises himself, when he can get David all to himself behind a door with a functioning lock…

“That’s a given,” David gestures down his body, as though Patrick needed any additional prompting to look. “This just isn’t how I pictured being a placeholder rolling out.”

Taking the chance to trust himself to get up without tackling David to the nearest bed, (which happens to be Alexis’ so he doesn’t think either of the Rose siblings would appreciate that somehow), Patrick turns to grab his spare glove from the bag behind him and tosses it to David.

“Here. I thought we could head outside, maybe throw the ball around a little bit?” Might as well know what he’s working with. As much as he really wouldn’t mind getting his boyfriend out of that uniform and into a bed right the fuck now, they do have a game to win first and Patrick is not about to forfeit if he can possibly help it.

And after the game, maybe he can convince David to sneak off from the barbeque and find a private corner before they get changed so he can thoroughly show his appreciation to his boyfriend.

David looks down at the mitt he’s just caught as if it carries an infectious disease. He even sniffs it.

“This glove is brown; my shoes are black. What exactly are we doing here?”

Okay, so that’s what he’s working with. Suddenly less sure, Patrick’s voice comes out slightly higher than usual. “We’re gonna practise?”

“Practise what? You told me I was just a body in a field!” Patrick is not so far gone in his ‘making out with his hot baseball player boyfriend in the dugout’ fantasies that he doesn’t recognise the panic filling David’s face. Before he can move to reassure him, the adjoining door opens and Mr Rose walks through, wearing a startling deviation from his typical suits. Well, this should be interesting.

Patrick and Mr Rose exchange a quick greeting before Mr Rose recognises his son’s own unusual outfit.


David’s horrified look – if possible – intensifies. “What are you doing?”

“Well, what are you doing?” Johnny does not seem any more thrilled than his son by this development and Patrick glances between them.

“Patrick’s forcing me to be on his team for the game today!”

Patrick doesn’t much like how that sounds when said so bluntly but doesn’t have time to interject before Mr Rose starts talking again and he has to bite his lip. He’s soon distracted by Mr Rose explaining he’s been drafted for Ronnie’s team and he can’t help the laugh that comes out.

“Oh my God!” David appears to be in a state of disgusted shock.

“That’s funny because Ronnie has been telling me all week how stacked her team is!” Patrick says, but when he looks at Mr Rose, the older man is staring back at him and Patrick’s brain catches up with his mouth. Desperately, he tries to backtrack. “So, yeah, this makes sense.”

If he finally finds the perfect way to do what he’s been thinking about the last couple of weeks, Mr Rose could one day be his father-in-law and he doesn’t want to piss him off. Patrick doesn’t think David would actually listen to his father if Johnny told him not to marry Patrick but Patrick would rather not risk anything that could jeopardise getting the answer he wants.

Mr Rose looks away and Patrick exhales. He doesn’t think he’s offended David’s father, thank God. He admires the Rose family and would not want to disrupt the newfound closeness they have found since moving here by getting between them and David.

When their world imploded, the Rose family clung together and found something precious along the way. For a while, they had only each other to rely on in this strange new situation and it had been the saving of them all.

But now Patrick has arrived, and Stevie and Ted and the Jazzagals. Even Roland has carved his unique place in their world, despite Moira’s vociferous protests, and the Rose family’s circle is growing in a way it never did with the millions of dollars and hundreds of socialite sycophants.

He respects the Roses for their strength through the collapse of their comfortable world and would love it if they came to see him the same way they all clearly already see Stevie – as an extension of their family. He doesn’t feel he’s quite there yet but hey, Stevie had a couple of years’ head start on him. At the end of the day, Patrick is determined and willing to put the work in because he loves this family.

He loves that Moira, in spite of her objections, has settled into life here. She’s on the council, working to bring change to the town she claims to hate. She’s directing Cabaret and is learning to be softer (and is definitely easier on Patrick than anyone else, which gives him hope for his future plans). She’s even letting him off the first show rehearsal today so he can participate in his “sporting tête-à-tête! As long as it is not to become a habit. To rise to theatrical stardom you must learn to make sacrifices for your craft.”

He loves Johnny’s impressive strength of heart. The determination it took to build an empire, and the fortitude and incredible force of will with which he wrapped himself around his family and held them together when it came crashing down around them. Johnny loves his family quietly and steadily. Patrick looks at Johnny sometimes as he watches Moira’s dramatics and the utter devotion in the older man’s gaze takes his breath away.

He loves that in Alexis he has found another fully enrolled member of the David Rose support committee even if she wouldn’t admit it. He knows from his own sibling relationships the infinite depth of a bond formed through a shared childhood, the years of jokes and references that would take a lifetime to explain to an outsider. It’s something more than even that with David and Alexis. Moira and Johnny’s schedules could not be counted on and a rotation of nannies in their early years before Adelina arrived left the two Rose children as the only constant in each other’s lives. No matter how their paths diverged in later life, there was always that grounding factor underlying it all and Patrick is delighted to see them growing closer.

The long and short of it is that Patrick adores the hell out the Rose family for all their quirks and eccentricities.

And he really loves David Rose. For more reasons that he can count and for no one reason in particular.

Despite the years of confusion, the repeated attempts to make it work with Rachel and the heartache that came with it, he will forever be thankful for everything that led him here, to this town, at this time, where he could cross paths with David Rose.

He hasn’t quite worked out how to come out to his parents or why he’s so afraid to tell them how happy he is (his stomach does an unpleasant swoop at the reminder of this secret he has been hiding from his always-so-supportive parents, and the fact that David doesn’t know they still think he’s straight), but when he does there’ll be nothing holding him back from asking David to stay with him for the rest of their lives.

But telling his parents the truth is a problem for another day. Today has its own difficulties to deal with first.

Over the next half an hour, Patrick learns three things:

  1. Somewhere in this world there may be embarrassing photographic evidence of David Rose reluctantly participating in Little League.
  2. David is skilled at many, many things to do with his hands but catching a baseball is not one of them.
  3. Ronnie needs to lose this game or Patrick will never hear the end of it.

David sits in the passenger seat on the drive to the field, turning Patrick’s black glove over in his hands. Even giving him the glove that matches his shoes has not soothed his irritation and his thumb fiddles with the rings on his right hand restlessly. Patrick has wisely decided not to break the silence during the journey to the field.

From the corner of his eye, Patrick can see the bright white and green uniform, such a variation from David’s unusual monochromatic selection. As much as he appreciates David’s usual ensembles (and the man does know how to dress himself) he is appreciating the comparatively thin material covering his boyfriend’s torso, such a change from the usual thick sweaters. He wonders if he could feel David’s heartbeat through the shirt if they were standing chest to chest.

The effect David in baseball uniform is having on Patrick’s own heart rate and other bodily reactions is actually shedding a lot of light on the past. He’s hit with the realisation that the admiration for Joel Morrison, his high school’s star player, that lasted throughout their senior year was perhaps based on more than his batting average.

Yep, the uniform is definitely A Thing. Especially when worn by dark-haired men with a little stubble. Even on his best day however, Morrison, who boasted some impressive five o'clock shadow for an eighteen year old, couldn’t hope to match up to David Rose.

David seems to fill every space with the force of his personality, bold sartorial choices, expressive body language. Wherever he is there is no ignoring him and it was the biggest relief of his life when David took charge of the blossoming something growing between them in a darkened motel parking lot, gifted Patrick with the kiss he’d been dreaming of and Patrick could finally stop forcing his eyes to look away for fear of David noticing.

And now, in the confines of Patrick’s car, David fills the space even in his still silence, and Patrick is aware of every ounce of the solid male body beside him, every inch separating their skin. He has never been as attracted to anyone as he is to David and even now, the electric anticipation in his stomach when he sees him sometimes feels like the jittery excitement of the early days, except now he’s allowed to touch the man sitting beside him the way he wants.

He wants to touch so badly but not as much as he doesn’t want to injure them both in a car crash so he settles for tightening his fingers on the steering wheel and trying to focus on the road.

Patrick shifts down a gear and switches on the signal as he prepares for the turn off to the field and David squirms in his seat.

Patrick takes a deep breath before risking speaking. “It’s gonna be fine David.”

The only response he gets is a slight scoff. Patrick tries again.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“Well, just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Me and running? Historically, not a good mix.” David crosses his arms. “How long do baseball games last? Because as soon as I can get this,” he gestures wildly to his clothing, “off, the better. I think this material could actually be considered a crime against nature. This is not the image I want to cultivate.”

And just like that, Patrick’s daydreams of being pinned to the wall by David in euphoric celebration while both in athletic uniform evaporate.

David will never keep it on long enough for Patrick to indulge himself in fantasies long-hidden, even from himself, and he shouldn’t have to if he’s uncomfortable. Sex is supposed to be fun for both of them.

“There’s no set time for a baseball game, David. The MLB games last about three hours-”

“What?!” In his horror, David’s voice goes high enough that it cracks and his head turns so quickly to look at Patrick, Patrick is concerned about whiplash.

Patrick rushes to soothe him. “This won’t last that long, it’s an amateur league and no one is anywhere near major league standard. We just play for fun.”

David snorts. “Fun. Right.”

He goes back to staring out the window as Patrick puts the car in park. Through the window Patrick can see Ronnie’s team already warming up on the field. When she catches sight of them, she gives a little mocking wave and says something to Roland which causes him to guffaw so loudly Patrick can hear it across the field and through the closed windows.

David hears it too and seems to slouch slightly in his seat. Patrick reaches over to squeeze his hand in reassurance before he grits his teeth and opens the door. “Let’s go.”

No going back now.

The game itself is better than expected. There are enough half-way skilled players to make for a more-or-less evenly matched competition, and surprisingly Johnny does have a decent arm when he focuses on the game rather than on shouting encouragement in David’s direction.

David, on the other hand, is clearly uncomfortable and growing more annoyed as time goes on. He’s sweating, getting irritated with the dismissive remarks directed at him by Bob’s Garage players, losing patience with Patrick’s competitiveness and snaps at him when Patrick runs behind him to catch the ball flying over his head.

Despite throwing the glove at the ground and storming off the field, he shouts behind him for Patrick to pick it up and Patrick knows he’ll see it through. He’s struck anew with the lengths David will go to keep him happy.

An hour later it’s the bottom of the ninth and David is up to bat, having ignored Patrick’s attempt to convince him to let someone else pinch hit. Patrick leans against the metal fence bordering the field and sighs.

They’re going to lose and more distressing than the jabs Patrick’s going to have to endure from Ronnie for the rest of his life is the fact that David looks truly miserable. He seemed genuinely offended when Patrick suggested he couldn’t bat, despite having been saying himself that he couldn’t play this game for most of the day and Patrick hates that he’s put David through something so far out of his comfort zone.

Patrick is going to have to do a lot of apologising later. He only prays this does not turn into another ‘olive branch’ situation. Those days he spent without David early in their relationship twisted him into pathetic, despondent knots and he doesn’t want to imagine how much worse it would be if David froze him out now their relationship has progressed so much further. Patrick has the horrible feeling that something inside would probably shut down completely if deprived of the man he loves again.

Heart stuttering, he forces away the mental picture of David turning his back, walking away from Patrick, from them. He feels bile rising in his throat at the very idea and rests a shaking hand on the metal link fencing to ground himself, banishing the nightmare phantom of a future without David. A future where David has left him, where every breath rips his chest open to expose the wound and where no part of his heart has survived the trauma intact.

He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

No. They’re together and Patrick will fight to keep it that way.

Patrick stands to the side and tries to ignore Ronnie’s smug face as she winds up to pitch. David stands, jaw set and determined to prove something.

Patrick holds his breath, willing David to show how capable he is. Not to Patrick, that has never been necessary, but to the others already eyeing up the barbeque and inching towards the field’s edges.

Ronnie pitches.

A swing and a hit.

There’s a moment before it even registers but then Patrick is thrilled. “Oh my God! Run, David! Run!”

David is dashing round the bases and he was right- he does not do well with running. He has to be prompted to drop the bat and if Johnny were not as ecstatic as Patrick to see David show what he can do, and if Patrick didn’t suspect the older man was stalling, Johnny would surely have already thrown the ball to get David out.

Finally Ronnie and Roland’s shouts break through to Johnny who stops cheering and shouting affirmations at his son. He goes for the ball and throws it towards home base. Where David’s back blocks its path.

David goes down and Patrick is running before he hits the ground. He doesn’t even hear the umpire declaring David’s run safe because David is face down and Patrick’s stomach turns over. His logical brain registers that this is a minor fall and that in all likelihood David will be fine but his heart doesn’t want to listen.

Falling to his knees beside David he lays a hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

David looks up, panting, his helmet falling over his eyes and Patrick’s heart clenches with the force of the love that hits him. “Did I do it?”

“You did it.”

The team is around them then and they’re jumping and celebrating and the smile on David’s face takes over. Unable to resist, Patrick wraps his arms around his gorgeous, talented boyfriend, kissing him on the cheek and pressing himself as close as he can. He wants to stake his claim, let everyone see David accepting Patrick’s kisses, show everyone that this fantastic, beautiful man is Patrick Brewer’s boyfriend.

(And he was right, by the way. He can feel David’s heartbeat through his shirt.)

It isn’t long before David is breaking free of the embrace because he has spotted some of the spectators meandering towards the barbeque.

“Excuse me! Players first, players first!”

He’s storming away, pulling off his helmet and grabbing the cap Patrick had left on the bench on the way past. A laugh bursts from Patrick’s mouth and joy wells up in his chest as he watches his boyfriend pull the hat on and start running for the second time that day, motivated by the smell of cooking meat.

If the pants happen to stretch nicely across David’s ass as he jogs away? Well, that’s a pleasant bonus.

“Hungry player coming through! That’s the rules. Sir, you need to wait!” David’s voice carries across the field and Patrick can feel the giddy smile stretching his cheek muscles.

When David has elbowed his way to the front of the queue, he looks back to catch Patrick’s eye and impatiently gestures him over.

Shaking himself, Patrick follows him.

Two hamburgers and a hot dog later, they’re sitting on a table together, feet on the bench, and Patrick has rustled up an ice pack one of the spectators brought in his beer cooler.

Gently Patrick lays the ice pack against David’s back as his boyfriend takes another bite of his second hot dog. Finally given access to the promised barbeque, David’s contentment level has increased dramatically and despite his earlier protests about the uniform, he hasn’t even removed his cap.

Smiling at the side of David’s face as the taller man stares out over the field Patrick can distantly hear Ronnie and Roland taking jabs at Mr Rose. As much as he respects Mr Rose, he’s pleased they’ve taken their teasing away from David. After David’s performance today, they don’t get to make him the butt of the joke anymore.

If Patrick has his way, no one will ever make David feel lesser again.

David’s happiness is radiating from his face as he turns to Patrick, still chewing his hard-earned hot dog. “When you get hit in the back playing a game you never wanted to play in the first place, does that make you the VIP?”

“The MVP. And no, we’re not doing that,” Patrick replies, unable to conceal his amused smile.

“Okay, what if we were doing that though?”

Oh God, David’s satisfied little smirk is everything. Patrick loves this man so much.

“Well, then you would definitely be the VIP.”

David looks away, bashful, smiling as though he wasn’t fishing for compliments. Patrick takes advantage of David’s pleased mood to sneak in his apologies for David’s first glimpse of his compulsive need to win sporting events.

“Listen, I’m sorry if this game sort of unleashed my competitive side.”

"Yeah, we really don’t need to meet him again.”

Internally Patrick winces. God help him if they move in together and David witnesses Patrick jumping on the couch when watching the major leagues.

Even while worrying about David’s reaction to Patrick’s behaviour when watching the playoffs, he can’t resist the chance to needle a little more. “But you know, part of me wonders: would you have hit a home run if I hadn’t lit that fire in you? Because I have never seen you run like that.”

David pretends to consider. “Yeah, it was mainly because I was smelling the barbeque.”

“Ah.” Patrick nods and smiles to himself as David wriggles his shoulders and prompts him to raise the ice pack.

(It’s definitely time to go ring shopping.)

A couple of hours later the celebration is winding down. Patrick is sitting on the small tier of bleachers on the edge of the field watching the crowd gradually disperse. Alexis is cuddled into Ted’s side on a bench, eyes closed contentedly as Ted chats with Bob. Stevie and David are arguing with the barbeque guy who shakes his head, radiating irritation, and waves them away.

Roland waves at Patrick as he climbs into his truck, accompanied by Jocelyn who had been eagerly filling Patrick in on what he missed in the Cabaret rehearsal for the past twenty minutes until Roland Junior started to grizzle in her arms.

Weirdly enough, from Jocelyn’s words it seems like even Stevie, who doesn’t like to show enthusiasm for anything, got into the rehearsals and Patrick is excited to take part.

Patrick is staring at nothing in particular, feeling at peace and sipping from his beer bottle when he feels David return to his side. Sliding onto the bench next to him David reaches to kiss his cheek in greeting.

“Can you believe that guy? Who volunteers to do a barbeque and doesn’t bring marshmallows?” David shakes his head in disgust as he watches the man in question pack away the last of his meat forks and shut the trunk of his car. “Do you still have ice cream in your freezer?”

“Would my answer have any bearing on whether you stay with me tonight or go to the motel?”

He hates that he has to ask this. He hates that he wasn’t quite ready to move in when David was meaning there’s now always a question mark over where David is going to sleep. He wants to know that David is coming back with him every night to a home they share.

David gives him a look. “It’s Saturday. I always stay with you on a Saturday. I just want to know if we need to go to the grocery store first.”

Patrick smiles. “We have ice-cream.”

“Hmm. Good.”

They sit in silence for a minute and watch Johnny and Moira walk over to join Alexis and Ted. Bob is walking towards his car, on his way to pick Gwen up from her internet appointment probably. Patrick drains his beer and sets the bottle by his feet before clearing his throat.

“Listen. I really am sorry that I was a little…” Patrick gropes for the word for a couple of seconds. “Aggressive today. I didn’t mean to make you feel like was forcing you to do something you didn’t want to do.” David’s earlier words have been bouncing around the back of his mind on and off throughout the day. “I do appreciate what you did for me.”

“I’ve told you before, I am a very generous person,” David teases gently.

“You are. But I’m sorry you got hit. How’s your back?”

“It doesn’t hurt. I might have a bruise but all fabulous athletes sometimes suffer sporting injuries. It is a cross the great ones have to bear.” He nudges Patrick with his shoulder. “And you didn’t force me. I know this was important to you. If I really didn’t want to, I would have told you.”

“Thank you.”

David is huddled into his side and it is so easy for Patrick to turn his head and press his mouth to David’s.

And because he can’t think of a single reason not to, he does.

As though he has been waiting for this, David sighs contentedly and parts his lips for Patrick to delve deeper, reaching to wrap his hand round the back of Patrick’s neck like that very first night in the car.

Patrick leans in, resting one hand on David’s thigh and the other around his back as they settle into the kiss. David’s mouth is warm and Patrick gets the faint aftertaste of barbeque meat and booze and, underneath that, is the taste that is uniquely David that never fails to get Patrick’s heart pounding.

David’s thumb brushes Patrick’s earlobe in a way that feels deliberate given that David know how sensitive Patrick is there and a shudder races through his body. It isn’t the dugout but they’re on a baseball field and David is still wearing the uniform and doing something with his tongue that has Patrick’s pants feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

He shifts on the bench and pulls David closer with the arm around his back, tilting his head so he can access David’s mouth easier. Patrick’s pulse is pounding in his ears and David tastes so good. Always so fucking good for him, and he’s so gorgeous and-

David pulls away and Patrick finds himself chasing David’s lips before he can stop himself. His hand flexes involuntarily on David’s thigh, clutching at the material of the uniform trousers. David’s baseball cap has gone a little lopsided and Patrick swallows a whimper.

David smirks. “Interesting.”

It takes Patrick a second to catch up. “What?”

David just gives him another quick kiss and shakes his head. “It looks like everyone’s leaving. Are you ready to go? I need ice cream.”

He straightens his cap and stands while Patrick’s foggy brain is still parsing that last statement. David rising from the bench has put his ass in Patrick’s eyeline which does not help the situation. When he starts walking away down the stairs, it’s a moment before Patrick can calm himself enough to stand and follow him without embarrassment, grabbing the empty beer bottle to throw away on the way past the recycling bin.

They’re among the last people to leave the field, and Patrick is grateful for the dimming light and sparse crowds limiting the possibility of anyone seeing the lingering effects of that kiss as they walk over to the car. David folds his arms over his chest against the slight chill the evening is bringing in and waits while Patrick unlocks the car.

The journey back to Patrick’s apartment passes quickly; David fills Patrick in on a call he received from a potential new supplier of avocado scented hand sanitizer based three miles outside of town. Instantly switching into business mode, Patrick is full of questions about prices and quantities, estimating profit margins as he steers through the quiet streets. The store closes early on Sundays, and between them they decide it could be a viable addition to their stock, so as they head up to the apartment, David sends a text to the supplier to try and arrange a meeting for the following evening.

Unlocking the apartment door, Patrick toes off his shoes before heading towards the couch, hearing David close the door and kick off his own shoes. He is tired, leg muscles pleasantly sore after a day of exercise.

He collapses backwards onto the couch, leaving David to help himself to ice-cream. He closes his eyes, trying to work out the discount he could reasonably ask for on a bulk order on avocado hand sanitizer to maximise their profits and rubs a hand across his forehead when the mental calculator in his tired mind refuses to co-operate.

Then he startles as a solid weight settles into his lap. His eyes fly open to see David grinning down at him as he sits sideways on Patrick’s lap bringing his hands to rest on Patrick’s shoulders.


“Hi.” Patrick shakes his head, confused but not necessarily disappointed by this turn of events. “Didn’t you want ice cream?”

“Later,” David says and leans forward to brush his lips over Patrick’s pulling back before Patrick has the chance to deepen the kiss. “So today was interesting.”

Patrick sighs. “I know and I’m sorry. You’ve made it clear you hated it and I’ve already said you don’t have to do it again. We can ask someone else.”

“Well that is excellent news and I am hoping that at your future games I get to show off all my ‘boyfriend on the baseball team’ spectator looks rather than participating but that’s not what I was referring to.”

David repositions himself, moving one leg across Patrick’s lap so he is straddling him on the couch. Patrick’s hands shoot out to David’s hips to steady him as he leans precariously backwards in the attempt to get his leg in a comfortable position.

“Okay? So what are you talking about then?” Patrick asks when David is stabilised, leaning his head against the back of the couch as he looks at David.

“I’m talking about you. And how you’ve been looking at me since I came out of that bathroom this morning.”

Patrick snorts as his heartbeat kicks up a notch. Surely David didn’t notice his ridiculously obsessive teenage musings all day? “You’re my boyfriend. I look at you a lot every day, David. I haven’t been looking at you any differently today.”

David’s lips pull up at one side. That look that says he is just not buying it. “Right. So you’re saying I imagined you spending a lot of time today looking at my ass?”

Patrick grins. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I spend a lot of time most days looking at your ass.” He lets his hands drift to the body part in question and gives a light squeeze.

David breaths a laugh. “Um, I have a great ass, it would be weird if you didn’t look now and then. But it felt like there was something extra going on today, yeah?” He shifts a little on Patrick’s lap and smirks when Patrick sucks in a breath.

The warm weight of David on Patrick’s lap, and the sight of David’s chest at direct eye level, with that baseball shirt hugging his pecs is short-circuiting something in Patrick’s brain.

He can’t not touch.

Tiredness forgotten, one hand moves from David’s ass to rub across his chest, tracing the Café Tropical logo and feeling the solid muscle and the steady thump of David’s heart. Body heat leeches through the thin cotton and Patrick sighs, moving his hand up David’s chest to loop around the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and attempts to draw David’s mouth down to his, exhaling when David deflects at the last moment to kiss along Patrick’s neck instead.

David licks and nibbles his way up to Patrick’s ear. “This is doing something for you, right? The baseball outfit? You like this?”

Patrick groans when David’s warm tongue traces the top of his ear and he moves his shaking hands to his boyfriend’s hips. “It’s not… Don’t worry about it, you didn’t enjoy today and you aren’t into this.”

A low, rough laugh rumbles through David’s chest.

“Am I into running around a field being bitten by insects and getting all sweaty? No. Am I into my boyfriend exploring his sexuality and fantasies with me and getting all sweaty? Um, yes, yes, I am. So,” David pauses and grinds his hips down into Patrick, forcing a deep grunt from the back of Patrick’s throat and his hands instinctively tighten on David’s hips. “Come on. Tell me what you’ve been thinking.”

He gives a soft bite in the hollow of Patrick’s neck which has Patrick bucking up into him and groaning as his breath becomes shallower.

“Fuck, David.”

“Mmm. Is that right? That’s what you want?” David mouths at Patrick’s throat one more time and then moves his head and goes straight for Patrick’s mouth, taking him in a deep kiss.

Patrick clutches David’s sides while David’s tongue pushes into his mouth, demanding entrance, claiming him, hands either side of Patrick’s face to hold him still. Patrick goes lightheaded under the onslaught and he tries to shift, to ease the pressure on his cock but is distracted when David rocks forward on his lap and he can feel his boyfriend stiffening against him. When he pulls his mouth away, David grinds down again hard and Patrick’s vision goes white at the edges.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, David, you look so good.” Patrick loses control of his mouth and he’s babbling, the words spilling over each other as he bucks up helplessly into David’s weight. He’s been on a knife’s edge of arousal throughout most of the day and he’s finally tipping over, can’t focus on anything other than the man – his man – seated in his lap, each twist of David’s hips sending pleasure rocketing through his veins, thrumming in his blood.

David is still wearing his cap and when he reaches to adjust the brim Patrick whimpers.

“God, the uniform is a thing for you.” David smiles and Patrick flushes.

He swallows thickly, trying to explain, even as he’s pulling David closer on his lap so he can feel more of his strong, masculine form pressing down on him. “It’s you. It’s you in the uniform. My gorgeous boyfriend, the baseball player. So yes, yes, I like it.” The words come out in between harsh breaths even as he’s meeting David’s rocking hips with small upward thrusts of his own.

David kisses him again, full of tongue and teeth. “You wanna get off with the star baseball player, that’s it?” He murmurs against Patrick’s lips.

There’s fire pouring through Patrick’s veins and he can feel every single nerve ending where David presses against him. He wants everything. Wants David everywhere. All over him.

The image of David emerging from the bathroom in the motel comes back to him and suddenly he knows what he wants the most.

Yes. David, fuck, David, I want you in my mouth. Wanna suck you off.”

David hisses in a breath. “Fuck. Yeah? That’s what you want? You want my cock in that gorgeous mouth?”

Patrick nods frantically. “Yeah. You played so good, baby, you were the best. Want to be on my knees for you. Want your cock so much. I want to make you come for me.”

“Mmm…” David hums, rocking in Patrick’s lap. Patrick stretches his neck to reach for David’s mouth. David meets him halfway for a deep, filthy kiss that leaves Patrick’s heart hammering so fast it’s making him dizzy.

When they break away Patrick is so hard it aches. “Please, David. Let me make you feel good. Let me suck you. You were so good today, you’re always so sexy, I’ve been wanting you all day. Want to suck your cock so much. It’s so big, I love it. Please give it to me.”

He doesn’t know where it’s come from, this wanton, desperate pleading. They bring it out in each other it seems but there’s never any embarrassment about the depth of their desire for each other in the light of day and when David looks down at him with dark, wide pupils, mouth hanging open and panting, Patrick can’t find it in himself to be ashamed of how frantic he sounds. He knows David gets off on hearing how much Patrick wants him as much as Patrick gets off on telling him. As much as Patrick loves it when David starts babbling his desire for Patrick.

David’s gaze is dark as he stares at Patrick’s flushed face, settling on his mouth, open and panting.

“Oh, trust me, I’ll give it to you. I want that. I want to fuck that mouth.”

Abruptly he lifts his leg over and off and swings over to sit beside Patrick on the couch leaving Patrick whining at the loss of contact. Rolling his head to the side, David maintains eye contact with Patrick as his hands go to his pants. Patrick can see David’s fingers shaking as he unbuckles his belt.

“You’re so good at blowing me. The fucking best. You’re so hot, Patrick. I love being in your mouth. Can’t wait to get my cock in there,” David purrs as he manages to get his belt unfastened.

It takes Patrick’s body a moment to move but then he’s sliding to his knees, pushing David’s legs apart to settle in between. Seizing behind David’s knees, he drags him forward so David’s sitting on the edge of the cushion, slouched against the back of the couch.

Patrick’s hands join David’s at David’s crotch. He bats David’s hands away so he can undo the button himself. David pants above him and his hand goes to Patrick’s face. He traces his thumb across Patrick’s lips and Patrick’s tongue swipes at the pad, chasing after it to draw it into his mouth for a hard suck.

Fuck,” David swears softly. “Look at you. You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe you’re mine. Can’t believe I get this.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want.” Patrick looks up and meets David’s eyes, pupils dark and face shadowed under the brim of the baseball cap. He tugs at David’s pants. “Up.”

Obediently, David lifts his hips and Patrick moves back slightly, yanking David’s pants and boxers to his ankles in one swift movement so he can get back between his thighs without the material getting in the way.

And then David’s dick is right there. He is big and hard and beautiful and Patrick wants it so, so badly. His mouth, dry from the breaths rushing in and out, starts watering.

Before he can lean forward to take David in his mouth, David reaches to tug himself once, twice, still looking in Patrick’s eyes. Patrick is mesmerised, frozen with awe by the breath-taking sight before him. David’s large hand, decorated with his four signature rings, wraps around the thick shaft and he pumps himself slowly, fucking his fist as Patrick watches.

“Do you want it?” David’s voice is deep and jagged.

Patrick nods frantically, beyond words.

“I know you do. Been wanting me all day, you said. You want your baseball player boyfriend’s dick inside that pretty mouth of yours.”

Patrick groans, lost in the fantasy and David takes his hand away from himself, leaning back against the cushions and gazing down at Patrick, waiting, eyelids heavy and face flushed.

Patrick falls on David, too far gone for teasing, giving one long lick to the underside of his cock before taking him into his mouth, eager for the weight and taste of David on his tongue.

David’s sucks in a breath through his teeth. Patrick looks up the length of his body and hums in satisfaction around David’s dick.

David is still wearing the uniform. The hat is not quite straight on his head, the long-sleeved shirt is rumpled from Patrick’s hands and his pants are pooled around his ankles. Only the cleats are missing, discarded by the door. He looks every inch the debauched, depraved baseball player, spread out for his adoring boyfriend, kneeling at his feet.

David’s wild eyes settle on Patrick’s mouth, stretched around David’s cock.

“Fuck, yes. Patrick.”

Patrick bobs on David’s cock, pulling his mouth back up, curling his tongue around the hard length. He moves slowly back down, breathing through his nose as he fills his mouth and feels one of David’s hands go to the back of his head, not forcing his movements, just resting there, running over Patrick’s hair. Patrick brings his right hand to the base of David’s dick, working the lower part of his shaft while he sucks as he draws his head back up his boyfriend’s thick cock.

David’s right hand, rings shining, is resting on his thigh, close to Patrick’s face. Patrick reaches for it with his free hand, sliding his fingers between David’s, loving the feel of the cool metal of David’s rings against his skin.

This is David. David’s rings, David’s hand smoothing over his hair, David’s cock in his mouth. Patrick’s David.

Patrick’s breathes through his nose as moves back down again until he meets his own hand on David’s dick. He moans in his throat, loving the thick heaviness filling his mouth and raises his head again, sucking and caressing David’s cock with his tongue. When he swipes the head with his tongue, David starts babbling.

 “Oh, fuck, Patrick. Your mouth. So perfect, honey, you’re so good. Love it when you do this for me. Love you so much.”

Patrick can feel David’s hips trembling and goes faster, lifting and falling on David’s dick, wrapping his tongue and lips as tight around the shaft as he can manage. David’s free hand shifts on the back of Patrick’s head, dragging his fingers through his hair, and the one clasping Patrick’s hand squeezes.

Patrick untangles his hand from David’s, ignoring David’s clutching at him, to touch the one resting on the back of his head. He presses down slightly and looks up to meet David’s eyes, nodding as well as he can with his mouth occupied before moving to hold David’s grasping right hand once more.

David gets the hint and presses down on Patrick’s head with his left hand, moving Patrick back down his cock while his hips lift from the couch, pushing into that waiting warmth.

Fuck. So good, Patrick. You’re so good at taking my cock. That’s right, gorgeous. Suck me.”

Patrick tries to relax his jaw as David starts fucking into his mouth faster, filthy words of praise spilling from his lips about how good Patrick is, how sexy, how hot his mouth is, how much David loves this.

Patrick’s own pants are unbearably tight now and his right hand moves away from David’s cock to reach down to free himself, fumbling one-handedly over the button as he opens his pants enough to shove his hand down the front. He’s leaking, his briefs wet to the touch as he rubs his hard cock through the material.

David’s dick is hot and thick in his mouth and pushing in over and over, faster as he gets closer and closer. Patrick’s jaw is beginning to ache as he sucks and licks noisily but it’s completely worth it to have David falling apart for him like this.

Patrick looks up at David’s wrecked face and David groans when his gaze drifts down and he spots Patrick’s hand working furiously fast inside his own pants.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking sexy. Love that you love this. Can’t wait to get my hands on your thick cock. Want to give you what you want. Gonna make you feel so good.”

A particularly deep thrust pushes David into the back of Patrick’s throat and Patrick is thankful that he’s gotten better at suppressing his gag reflex since the first night he did this for David. He’s improved so much but David knows Patrick’s limits and is careful, even when half-out of his mind with pleasure, not to push too far into Patrick’s throat.

“You’re so good. I’m so close. You gonna get me there, gorgeous? I love fucking you… I want to be inside you all the fucking time…Uh… Love it when you fuck me. Love it allPatrick. Uh… Uh…”

When David devolves into wordless, guttural grunts, Patrick knows he’s getting close and his own hand dives under his briefs to touch himself without barriers. David taps him on the head in warning, releasing his hold on Patrick's head so he can pull off if he wants. Patrick gives one last hard suck and takes as much into his mouth as he can. David shouts as he comes inside Patrick’s waiting mouth and Patrick swallows as much as he can, easing David through it as his taste floods his mouth.

When David is finished, gasping above him, Patrick takes his mouth off David’s softening and sensitive cock and rests his forehead against David’s thigh, panting, heart hammering as he continues to work himself wildly.

The soft hairs on David’s legs tremble in Patrick’s ragged breath and his right hand is pulling at his dick rapidly, desperate to come.

He’s so close, so close.

Suddenly David sits up, releasing Patrick’s left hand from his grip and looming over the man kneeling on the floor so Patrick has to lean back on his heels.

David reaches out and stills Patrick’s wrist just above where it disappears into his open pants. Patrick protests, sweating and shaking, teetering on the edge and not above begging to come. David shakes his head, a wicked smirk spreading across his face.

“My turn.”

He pulls Patrick’s hand out but Patrick isn’t left waiting long, David kneels beside him on the floor, licks his palm and shoves his own hand down the front of Patrick’s pants to wrap around his dick. Patrick’s eyes slam shut with a relieved exhale and David’s crooning in his ear as his hand squeezes and tugs, rings sliding over the skin of Patrick’s dick.

“Told you I wanted to get my hands on your gorgeous cock, didn’t I? Can’t believe you wanted to take this away from me after you sucked me off so good. Come on, Patrick, come for me.”

David’s hand jerks him once, twice, three times and Patrick’s coming with a cry.

David holds him for another second and then pulls his hand away. Patrick opens his eyes in time to see David inspect his hand, gently licking off the remnants of Patrick’s release. Patrick can’t breathe.

David swallows and laughs shakily, falling back on his haunches. “Holy fuck.”

Patrick grins at his boyfriend, jaw still aching a little from the stretch around David’s cock. David rubs a palm over his face and then raises his hand to finally pull off the baseball cap.

It’s way too soon to go again but David when smiles at him, dark eyes gleaming, Patrick feels a twist in his lower stomach. He kneels up and moves closer to his boyfriend.

“That was amazing,” David murmurs as he leans in to kiss Patrick. Patrick can taste the hint of himself in David’s mouth and is sure David can taste himself on Patrick’s tongue. David’s told him in the past, however, that he doesn’t mind it, has confessed that he actually quite likes knowing that the come in Patrick’s mouth is his. It meets some possessive need in him and to be honest, Patrick gets it. He feels the same when he can taste himself in David’s kiss after David sucks him off.

The kiss is slow and deep and Patrick sighs happily.

When they pull away, David rests his forehead against Patrick’s. “Was it what you wanted?”

Patrick nods. “It was so good. You looked so good. Thanks for keeping the uniform on.” He laughs. “I didn’t know that would work for me so much.”

“Well, I’m always open to exploring any fantasies you have with you. Just to check, though, this isn’t a generalised baseball player thing, is it? I don’t have to start going to all your practices in case you develop a thing for Roland?”

Patrick pulls a face. “These days I get the feeling it is very much a ‘David Rose in a baseball uniform’ thing. Not an ‘anyone in a baseball uniform’ thing.”

“Thank fuck. Those practices take forever.” David kisses him again, a soft, gentle meeting of lips. “Mmm. Come on. I was promised ice cream.”

Patrick stands and watches as David pulls his pants back up his legs and rises from the floor.

Once David is standing, Patrick’s attention shifts to the uncomfortable feel of his come-covered briefs under his pants and he squirms a little.

“Maybe we should get changed first.”

David pauses in the buckling of his pants, looking up at Patrick. “Any chance you can change your underwear but keep the uniform on until after the ice cream?”

Patrick’s brow furrows and David grins slyly. “You aren’t the only one whose boyfriend looks hot in a baseball uniform. I’m not quite done with you yet.”

He walks off towards the kitchen as Patrick stands speechless, mind racing. The sound of clinking bowls shakes him out of his stupor and he turns towards the bedroom, eager to hurry up and meet David in the kitchen.

It’s going to be a great night.