carleton97 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
carleton97) wrote2007-11-07 08:05 pm
carleton97) wrote2007-11-07 08:05 pm
Entry tags:
- au,
- fic,
- mauer&morneau,
- rps
fic: own the beating of our hearts, mlb rps, justin morneau/joe mauer, NC17
Title: own the beating of our hearts
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carleton97
Fandom: MLB Minnesota Twins
Rating: NC17 for underage boytouching
Disclaimer: If you googled yourself, go away.
Note: Oh, god. So dirty. And AU. Um, so this takes place at a fictional, international high school baseball world series. Not Little League. Yeah.
the title is from a Fall Out Boy lyric
Joe doesn't mean to start some sort of international incident in the Marriott parking lot, but that catcher from Team Canada is just such a dick.
He's a great ballplayer with a big mouth, but that doesn't mean scuffling behind one of the buses that took them back and forth to the stadium is okay. His feet slide a little on the loose gravel of the parking lot and he almost falls right into the loose fist pushing at his chest.
God, his dad is going to kill him if he gets caught fighting.
They've gathered a small crowd - chunks of Teams Canada and USA and a couple of guys Joe recognizes from Team Argentina - that somehow manages to totally scatter when someone at the back of the group says 'Coach!' just loud enough to catch everyone's attention.
The Canadian jerk keeps his grip on Joe's shirt and ends up pulling him along as he darts around the far end of the bus and to the back of the hotel. He ends up face first against the dirty brick of the building, peeking around the corner to make sure they got away. The other boy is a heavy, warm weight against his back, breathing against his neck and raising goosepimples even in the heat of the Texas sun. It’s a little ticklish and a lot good and Joe snakes around to look up (just a little, his last growth spurt was a doozy) into the other boy’s face.
***
Justin lets his shoulders drop a little and props both hands on the rough side of the building when it looks like his little dust-up goes unnoticed. If he gets sent home for fighting, he’s pretty sure his mom would skin him alive. He knows it’s pretty much his own fault for shooting off his mouth, anyway, but that scrawny catcher for Team USA – Joe something, he thinks - could have just ignored him.
Joe squirms against him, turning until his back is against the building. Justin glances down and he’s going to say something - maybe start some shit again - but then there are hands against his ribs. The kid is leaning up and in and then there are chapped lips pressed against his, not really kissing, just sort of ... touching.
Oh man, this is a terrible idea, but Joe’s eyes are closed and his lashes are sort of fluttering against his skin and he's too tall and all arms and legs, but so good at ball and so pretty and Justin has never been good at saying ‘no’ to either of those.
So he lets his mouth fall open just a tiny bit and turns the touching into a pretty chaste kiss. Just mouths and breath and the barest bit of movement. He keeps his hands to himself because, even if Joe is slowly fisting his hands in his t-shirt, he’s pretty sure he’s only fourteen and he’s pretty sure he’ll get deported if he gets caught doing this.
He does okay for a couple of minutes, but then there's this noise from Joe's throat, high pitched and it makes Justin want. He shifts his body a little, leaning into Joe and letting his tongue lick over his upper lip. Joe wraps his arms around Justin and just gives in. He melts against him, his head tipping back and his mouth opening and Justin is just not strong enough to resist that. His hands are on Joe then, in his hair and against his neck.
His body pushes Joe's back against the wall, pressing up against him and pinning him down. He's kissed girls before - even a boy - so he knows just how to lick into Joe's mouth. How to tease against the roof of his mouth until he's squirming. How to rub against his tongue until he's moaning on every breath and hard against Joe's hip.
Joe is so responsive that Justin really can't help himself. He kicks his feet apart until he can press their hips together, rubbing through layers of denim and cotton until Joe moves with him.
God, It's so hot and wrong. They're out in the open and Joe is for sure underage and anyone could find them, but he doesn't care. Joe is rubbing against him harder and faster, whimpering against his mouth and pushing his hands up under his shirt. His fingers are digging into his shoulders and Justin's mom is going to freak if he comes back home with finger bruises on his back, but Joe jerks against him, his whole body seizing before he goes totally limp and ohgod nothing else matters but the pressure building in his balls and under his ribs, in his head and from his feet and he feels like he's going to die from coming. He sags against Joe, absently petting his sides and gentling the kiss back towards where it started.
His pants get uncomfortable pretty quickly and he pulls himself away from Joe slowly, grimacing a little at the sticky mess in his boxers. "So do you meet up in a little bit and go watch the China-Venezuela game?"
***
After that, they sneak off together as often as they can manage. Making out and humping quickly became hand jobs and that one time Joe slid off the side of the bed to his knees and coughed his way through a messy, enthusiastic blow job. Joe never thought he’d be in that position, or this one - another boy between his sprawled legs, pushing fingers inside of him, filling him up and touching something that makes him want to move - but, yeah, he totally is.
Joe bites his lip to keep from making too much noise, holding back everything but little huffs of breath and throaty whimpers as while Justin fingers him open for what feels like hours before shifting up. Justin leans over him, pushing into him and breathing shhhhhh shhh against the high pitched, voice cracking whimpers and into his mouth. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it's weird and he's not sure what to do with his legs and it's awkward and oh.
Justin's mouth is against his ear and he's not saying anything, but his breath is coming out hard, almost a grunt every time he gets a litter deeper. There are fingers twisted in the hair at the back of his neck and Justin is fucking into him so slow he thinks he's going to just fucking die from it.
***
Later, Justin will never be sure how it all happened.
Now, he's all the way in and he can't stop moving. Justin knows he should wait, let Joe get used to this, but he moving - grinding, pushing little thrusts. He's trying to stay still, but it's all too much and Joe is moving against him, his hands restless against Justin's back and his mouth pushing through his hair to the shell of his ear.
There's a breathless, still moment before a damp breath feathers over Justin's cheek and an open mouth follows, licking over his lips and drawing him into a surprisingly dirty kiss. Beneath him, Joe rocks his hips a little and Justin plants his hands on the bed next to Joe's shoulders and gives an experimental thrust.
Joe's eyes roll back in his head and a loud 'oh!' nearly echoes in the room. Justin leans back in to cover Joe's mouth with his own, swallowing the sounds he makes when he pushes back in. Joe flails for a second before he gets control of his limbs and wraps them around Justin, pulling him closer.
Justin thrusts a little harder each time, wanting - needing- to be just that much closer to Joe. He manages a sloppy rhythm for a few minutes before his control is shot and coming is like catching a pitch in the small of his back. He doesn’t black out or anything lame like that, but the world is definitely a little blurry for a while.
When the brushing against his stomach resolves into Joe furiously jerking himself off, it’s all he can do to curve his hand over Joe’s and let his fingers piggyback the motion. Joe comes with a shudder that leaves him panting and twitching on the scratchy bedspread and Justin carefully pulls out and tosses the condom in the wastebasket before flopping down on the bed next to him, an arm over his chest. Joe turns and scoots back until he’s resting against Justin’s chest.
They're asleep within minutes.
Author:
carleton97Fandom: MLB Minnesota Twins
Rating: NC17 for underage boytouching
Disclaimer: If you googled yourself, go away.
Note: Oh, god. So dirty. And AU. Um, so this takes place at a fictional, international high school baseball world series. Not Little League. Yeah.
the title is from a Fall Out Boy lyric
Joe doesn't mean to start some sort of international incident in the Marriott parking lot, but that catcher from Team Canada is just such a dick.
He's a great ballplayer with a big mouth, but that doesn't mean scuffling behind one of the buses that took them back and forth to the stadium is okay. His feet slide a little on the loose gravel of the parking lot and he almost falls right into the loose fist pushing at his chest.
God, his dad is going to kill him if he gets caught fighting.
They've gathered a small crowd - chunks of Teams Canada and USA and a couple of guys Joe recognizes from Team Argentina - that somehow manages to totally scatter when someone at the back of the group says 'Coach!' just loud enough to catch everyone's attention.
The Canadian jerk keeps his grip on Joe's shirt and ends up pulling him along as he darts around the far end of the bus and to the back of the hotel. He ends up face first against the dirty brick of the building, peeking around the corner to make sure they got away. The other boy is a heavy, warm weight against his back, breathing against his neck and raising goosepimples even in the heat of the Texas sun. It’s a little ticklish and a lot good and Joe snakes around to look up (just a little, his last growth spurt was a doozy) into the other boy’s face.
***
Justin lets his shoulders drop a little and props both hands on the rough side of the building when it looks like his little dust-up goes unnoticed. If he gets sent home for fighting, he’s pretty sure his mom would skin him alive. He knows it’s pretty much his own fault for shooting off his mouth, anyway, but that scrawny catcher for Team USA – Joe something, he thinks - could have just ignored him.
Joe squirms against him, turning until his back is against the building. Justin glances down and he’s going to say something - maybe start some shit again - but then there are hands against his ribs. The kid is leaning up and in and then there are chapped lips pressed against his, not really kissing, just sort of ... touching.
Oh man, this is a terrible idea, but Joe’s eyes are closed and his lashes are sort of fluttering against his skin and he's too tall and all arms and legs, but so good at ball and so pretty and Justin has never been good at saying ‘no’ to either of those.
So he lets his mouth fall open just a tiny bit and turns the touching into a pretty chaste kiss. Just mouths and breath and the barest bit of movement. He keeps his hands to himself because, even if Joe is slowly fisting his hands in his t-shirt, he’s pretty sure he’s only fourteen and he’s pretty sure he’ll get deported if he gets caught doing this.
He does okay for a couple of minutes, but then there's this noise from Joe's throat, high pitched and it makes Justin want. He shifts his body a little, leaning into Joe and letting his tongue lick over his upper lip. Joe wraps his arms around Justin and just gives in. He melts against him, his head tipping back and his mouth opening and Justin is just not strong enough to resist that. His hands are on Joe then, in his hair and against his neck.
His body pushes Joe's back against the wall, pressing up against him and pinning him down. He's kissed girls before - even a boy - so he knows just how to lick into Joe's mouth. How to tease against the roof of his mouth until he's squirming. How to rub against his tongue until he's moaning on every breath and hard against Joe's hip.
Joe is so responsive that Justin really can't help himself. He kicks his feet apart until he can press their hips together, rubbing through layers of denim and cotton until Joe moves with him.
God, It's so hot and wrong. They're out in the open and Joe is for sure underage and anyone could find them, but he doesn't care. Joe is rubbing against him harder and faster, whimpering against his mouth and pushing his hands up under his shirt. His fingers are digging into his shoulders and Justin's mom is going to freak if he comes back home with finger bruises on his back, but Joe jerks against him, his whole body seizing before he goes totally limp and ohgod nothing else matters but the pressure building in his balls and under his ribs, in his head and from his feet and he feels like he's going to die from coming. He sags against Joe, absently petting his sides and gentling the kiss back towards where it started.
His pants get uncomfortable pretty quickly and he pulls himself away from Joe slowly, grimacing a little at the sticky mess in his boxers. "So do you meet up in a little bit and go watch the China-Venezuela game?"
***
After that, they sneak off together as often as they can manage. Making out and humping quickly became hand jobs and that one time Joe slid off the side of the bed to his knees and coughed his way through a messy, enthusiastic blow job. Joe never thought he’d be in that position, or this one - another boy between his sprawled legs, pushing fingers inside of him, filling him up and touching something that makes him want to move - but, yeah, he totally is.
Joe bites his lip to keep from making too much noise, holding back everything but little huffs of breath and throaty whimpers as while Justin fingers him open for what feels like hours before shifting up. Justin leans over him, pushing into him and breathing shhhhhh shhh against the high pitched, voice cracking whimpers and into his mouth. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it's weird and he's not sure what to do with his legs and it's awkward and oh.
Justin's mouth is against his ear and he's not saying anything, but his breath is coming out hard, almost a grunt every time he gets a litter deeper. There are fingers twisted in the hair at the back of his neck and Justin is fucking into him so slow he thinks he's going to just fucking die from it.
***
Later, Justin will never be sure how it all happened.
Now, he's all the way in and he can't stop moving. Justin knows he should wait, let Joe get used to this, but he moving - grinding, pushing little thrusts. He's trying to stay still, but it's all too much and Joe is moving against him, his hands restless against Justin's back and his mouth pushing through his hair to the shell of his ear.
There's a breathless, still moment before a damp breath feathers over Justin's cheek and an open mouth follows, licking over his lips and drawing him into a surprisingly dirty kiss. Beneath him, Joe rocks his hips a little and Justin plants his hands on the bed next to Joe's shoulders and gives an experimental thrust.
Joe's eyes roll back in his head and a loud 'oh!' nearly echoes in the room. Justin leans back in to cover Joe's mouth with his own, swallowing the sounds he makes when he pushes back in. Joe flails for a second before he gets control of his limbs and wraps them around Justin, pulling him closer.
Justin thrusts a little harder each time, wanting - needing- to be just that much closer to Joe. He manages a sloppy rhythm for a few minutes before his control is shot and coming is like catching a pitch in the small of his back. He doesn’t black out or anything lame like that, but the world is definitely a little blurry for a while.
When the brushing against his stomach resolves into Joe furiously jerking himself off, it’s all he can do to curve his hand over Joe’s and let his fingers piggyback the motion. Joe comes with a shudder that leaves him panting and twitching on the scratchy bedspread and Justin carefully pulls out and tosses the condom in the wastebasket before flopping down on the bed next to him, an arm over his chest. Joe turns and scoots back until he’s resting against Justin’s chest.
They're asleep within minutes.
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Man, if loving this wrong, I'm never going to be right.