Date: Mon, 2 May 2005 00:01:57 -0400
From: TJ Welker <teejayw@gmail.com>
Subject: Pitchers & Catchers

This story is complete fiction. The story in no way should be
considered an implication of the sexual orientation or actions of any
of the characters involved and this is not a reflection of their
lives.  Please do not use this story without my permission.

Let me know what you think: teejayw@gmail.com

Pitchers & Catchers
By TJ Welker

*WOMP* *WOMP* WOMP* *WOMP*

The blue eyed man jolted awake and slapped wildly at the offending
noise emanating from the alarm clock next to the bed. Bleary eyed,  he
stared at the digital read out and confirmed his fear: 3:00 PM.  He
had to be downstairs in the lobby of this hotel in a half an hour for
the short ride to the ballpark. Which city was he in today? Oh yes,
Arlington, Texas. The memory of a frustrating loss the night before by
his team came to him along with a cloudy memory of the rest of the
night, filled with room service food, video games with his teammate
and best friend Doug Mirabelli and lots of cheap beer and.... what was
it he was forgetting? Must have been the booze. He could feel it in
his temples. He now regretted breaking team rules about drinking on
game days during the season. He felt like death warmed over. Thank God
he wasn't today's starting pitcher.

Bronson Arroyo slid his thin, lanky, naked body out of bed, stretched,
stood, stretched some more and shook the sleep out of his head. He
walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. It was raining. He
grimaced, anticipating the long wait in the clubhouse that usually
occurs during rain delayed ball games. If the game is rained out, he
would end up getting pushed back a day and having to start game one of
the series against the Detroit Tigers, who despite their general
ineptitude, always seemed to hit Bronson hard. He frowned at the
Dallas skyline a few miles away and turned and began to walk toward
the bathroom for a welcomed shower. But as he passed by the bed he had
just moments ago exited, he noticed the telltale lump on the side he
had assumed was empty. "What the fuck?" Bronson thought as he stared,
trying to pry the memories back out of the abyss of the drunken state
he was in the evening before. Searching, searching and not liking the
foggy answer that echoed back at him.

Bronson looked down at his feet on the side of the bed where the
figure lay sleeping and saw men's clothes scattered on the floor. He
knew these were not his, but yet they looked uniquely familiar. His
suspicions drawing him closer to the realization that he half feared
and half eagerly hoped was true.

Not able to delay the mystery any further, Bronson walked up to the
bed and confirmed the cloudy secret of his missing early hour
activities. On the night stand next to the bed was a bottle of drug
store lubricant and a ripped open condom wrapper.  As Bronson's eyes
traced these items across to the figure lying in the bed, he noticed
for the first time, the slick feeling and mild aching sensation in his
ass. Then he searched for the face, half buried in a pillow, facing
the side of the bed Bronson had been sleeping. Instant recognition
announced to the young pitcher that it was his friend, the back up
catcher Doug Mirabelli.

The irony of a pitcher catching for a catcher in the sexual metaphor
escaped Bronson at this moment of raw, naked truth. Not wanting to
wake him just yet, Bronson sat on the edge of the bed next to Doug's
legs and watched him sleep and tried to remember how it happened.

The ball broke suddenly out of the air and cut sharply downward toward
the earth. The wood bat followed the ball down in an upward arc and
connected squarely on the Rawlings label, piercing the humid night in
a vicious explosion that launched the ball high into the air as if
fired from a rocket, deep into the darkness above the stadium. A
moment later, back into the light from the huge stadium towers, the
ball traveled over the lush green field below and well over the head
of right fielder Trot Nixon into the cheering crowd, bouncing off the
concrete steps of an aisle and coming to rest in the hands of a
jubilant boy in a Texas Rangers cap. Alphonso Soriano, the man who
punished the ball, raised his arms in victory as he circled the bases
and jumped into the waiting mass of teammates at home plate.  Mike
Timlin, the now flustered hurler who tossed the fateful curveball
shook his head in defeat as he lumbered back to the dugout to join his
disappointed teammates filing into the tunnel toward the clubhouse.

Bronson Arroyo who had just watched the spectacle from his spot on the
visitors dugout bench, waited for Timlin to make it into the dugout
and patted him on the butt to help comfort the downcast pitcher. "Shit
happens dude" he said just as Timlin cursed, spat and launched his
glove across the dugout, missing the exiting Doug Mirabelli's head by
inches. Mirabelli turned around and said, "Hey Mike watch it, you
almost hit me with that!" Timlin, not in the mood to take criticism
replied, "Fuck you cock sucker. Go find your boyfriend and cry to him
about it". Doug, knowing Timlin was just blowing off steam, just said,
"Fuck you" and disappeared into the tunnel.  Bronson, ever the
peacekeeper, said to Timlin, "Dude that was a pretty shitty thing to
say. Your pissed but don't take it out on the rest of us. We'll get
that game back tomorrow." Timlin looked at Bronson and said, "No, he's
an actual fag. I figured you know since you two are so tight... when's
the wedding anyway? Its legal back in Boston now. We'll all be so
proud of you both." he sneered as he also disappeared down the tunnel.
 Arroyo stayed in the dugout for a couple minutes, looking out at the
emptying stadium, thinking about what Timlin had just said.

Back in the clubhouse, teammates were talking, eating, listening to
music, showering and making phone calls on their cell phones. Bronson
grabbed some fruit off the buffet and sat down on a sofa and watched
SportsCenter on the flat screen TV attached to the far wall. This had
become his custom, to wait until most everyone else had showered and
were consuming the post game buffet before he himself hit the showers.

He waited 'til SportsCenter was over and then went into the shower
room and as usual found himself mostly alone in the shower room. This
time though he was not alone. Doug Mirabelli was lathering up his
large, solid body when Bronson glided his slim frame under a shower
head. Doug looked up and smiled and went back to lathering his lower
body. Bronson had always admired Doug's body, his great upper body
strength and broad shoulders.  He also had secretly fantasized about
Doug's dick, big, even when soft and his massive, hairy balls. Bronson
realized he was staring  just as Doug looked up. Bronson turned his
back to Doug and began to go about the business of cleaning his body,
enjoying the feel of the body wash as he lathered it on his skin. When
he turned back toward Doug, his teammate was facing away from him and
Doug was arching forward, letting the water from the shower head
stream down onto his lower back and buttocks. Bronson realized Doug
was getting the soap out of his ass crack. Bronson found this
strangely erotic as he watched his friend's ass and the water flowing
down the crack like a river, the water running down to his balls
before falling to the shower floor.

Once again staring a bit too long, but this time not catching it in
time, Bronson jolted back to reality as Doug turned and caught the
stare. Doug smirked and said, "Hey Bron, whatcha thinking about?".
Bronson, a little embarrassed caught himself and managed a reasonable
reply, "I was thinking about what i want to order from room service
tonight." stumbling just a bit but adding, "You hungry?"  Doug
chuckled, "Hungry huh? I bet you're hungry. I could eat something." He
paused briefly, rinsed his hair one last time and then offered "How
about some Madden Football, some burgers and beer?" Doug's question
came out a little too eagerly, but Bronson didn't notice. Bronson
liking the idea, said "yeah I  am all over that!". "Doug smiled, said
"Good. See you back at the hotel." He turned off the water and walked
unnecessarily close by Bronson on his way by, slowing as he got up
close to his teammate and whispered "we'll have some fun" and he
patted Bronson on his bare ass, a little less like how  teammates
normally pat each other and a lot more like a man would cup the ass of
a woman, or in this case, another man. Bronson let out a high pitched
squeak in surprise and Doug chuckled and walked out of the shower
room.

Bronson wondered if he was reading into Doug's actions too much based
on Timlin's comments and out of his own desire for it to be reality.
Bronson considered his evidence. He knew Doug was married. He'd met
Doug's wife over the winter in Florida when Doug invited him to stay
for a few days. He had noticed at the time that Doug and his wife
didn't seem that close, but no two relationships work the same way, so
he didn't think much about it. Now he was wondering if maybe the
marriage was a front? Was Timlin right about Doug?   Doug was always
perfectly attired, not a hair out of place, always well organized and
anal retentive about details. None of these traits are common among
the adult children who play professional baseball. Bronson had heard
little things here and there about Doug, innuendo and snickered
comments behind his back but Bronson wouldn't have otherwise found
this that odd since lots of players are often assholes and like to
talk shit about others. But this was all adding up. He had to be sure
before he did anything rash that he'd later regret.

In the homophobic society of baseball, Bronson long ago had decided to
subdue his sexual passion and channel it "Bull Durham" style, into his
pitching. It had worked well so far. This new possible revelation
could strike that plan out. Bronson was filled with anticipation and
extreme trepidation as the short time before the chartered bus left
the ballpark and made its way to the team's hotel seemed to take twice
as long. He calmed himself by saying, "Video games, dinner and beer.
Focus on that!"

Once in his hotel room, Bronson walked around and began to tidy up the
place. Cleaning services had made the bed and emptied the trash, but
Bronson had his clothes and some magazines scattered around the room.
He went into the bathroom and checked his look, his hair, his breathe.
"What the hell, I feel like I am going on a date!" he thought.

Then came the knock on the door. He went and looked out the peek hole
to find Doug standing in the hallway, looking fantastic and carrying a
brown bag under one arm and a Playstation 2 console in the other.
"Here we go" Bronson said to himself softly and opened the door.

"Hey"

"Hey, I hope you don't mind Coors, cuz its the only cheap beer this
place has in cases", Doug said, giving Bronson a head to toe once
over, silently approving.

"Its cool dude. I'll drink anything." Bronson said nervously as he
noticed Doug looking him over.

"You wanna order dinner now, I am starving", Doug suggested.

"Ah yeah sure, hang on. Let me grab that for you", Bronson reached out
and grabbed the brown bag which had the beer in it and set it down on
the bed. He noticed inside, on top of the case of beer was sitting a
bottle of lube and a small roll of condoms. Bronson's heart leapt out
of his body through his throat, raced in circles around the room and
then dive bombed back into his body through the top of his head,
forcing Bronson to buckle and sit down clumsily on the bed.

Doug noticed Bronson sit awkwardly and turn pale and asked, "Hey you
ok Bron?" and moved toward him.

"uh, yeah I am ok. I just felt lightheaded for a moment." Bronson managed.

Doug said, not convinced, "You sure?, you don't look so good."

"Gee thanks, you're not exactly a super model either" Bronson cracked,
 hiding the fact that he found Mirabelli perfect. He was feeling more
with it again and smiled up at Doug.

"Ha Ha. So you wanna order some food, while I get the game set up?"
Doug queried.


"Sure, you just want a couple burgers with fries?"

"Works for me"

Bronson ordered the food, then went and sat down in the sitting area.
Doug had set up the game system on the tv and loaded the game. He went
to grab a couple beers, seeing the lube and condoms on top and
realizing what had prompted Bronson's temporary reaction.  He looked
back toward Bronson, who was busy choosing the two player head to head
option on the game. Doug took the bottle and condoms out and placed
them on the night stand next to the bed. He grabbed a couple beers and
went back, sat down and handed one of the beers to Bronson.

A few hours later, food having been consumed, many beers and several
well matched but alcohol altered video football contests later,
Bronson began to fade. Drunk and no longer inhibited or verbally
cautious, Bronson said, "Well dude, if you're gunna take advantage of
me, now would be the time". Bronson stared lustily at Doug, who was
amused by this invitation.

Doug and Bronson sat and looked into each others eyes for an
uncomfortably long minute before Bronson nervously filled the silence
with words, fumbling, trying to find something to say after "dude".
Doug silenced Bronson by closing the distance between them, leaning
down over the arm of the chair Bronson was sitting in and finding the
right angle for his head to ease in and kiss Bronson on the lips. As
their lips met and Bronson adjusted to the suddenness of Doug's
motion, he let out a huge, internal sigh in his chest that caused his
whole body to shudder. Doug, sensing Bronson's feelings, pulled back
just a bit, looked Bronson lovingly in the eyes, reached for his
goatee'd chin with his hand and whispered, "Its all right Bron, I'm
here. Everything will be ok. I'll treat you right, this will be fun."
He smiled warmly and said, "You game?"

Bronson didn't need to answer verbally, his blue eyes and pouty lips
answered for him as he leaned up in search of Doug's supple lips. What
started as a dry kiss on the lips, escalated quickly to lust filled
open mouthed tongue fencing as the two men explored the insides of the
other's mouth and twisted and twirled their tongues around each other.
Meanwhile Doug reached up into Bronson's t-shirt and used his thumb
and forefinger to play with and twist Bronson's left nipple, enhancing
the volcano of sexual tension that began to erupt in the young pitcher
below him. Bronson was not a virgin with men, but it had in been
single A ball five years ago that he had sworn off sex as a
motivational tool for his career and as a way to avoid dealing with
his orientation.  Now he was not only in a passionate kiss with a very
sexy man, but the man he fantasized about constantly; his best friend,
teammate and catcher, Doug Mirabelli.

As they continued to kiss, Doug began to push Bronson's shirt up his
torso, bunching up near his armpits. Reluctantly breaking their mouth
lock, Doug managed to get the shirt up over Bronson's head before
resuming the make out session. Doug began running his hand through
Arroyo's fine, light colored chest hair, tweaking both nipples and
feeling his smooth flat stomach. Again breaking the kiss, Doug leaned
in and took Bronson's right nipple into his mouth, licking it,
flicking it with his tongue, then lightly chewing on it while
continuing to play with the left one with his hand. Bronson moaned
softly and began absently playing with the growing bulge in his
basketball shorts. Doug alternated between nipples with his lips,
tongue and teeth, but reached down and gently found Bronson's hand
over his hard cock. Bronson retracted his hand and let Doug's  hand
grab hold of his dick. Another huge, primal sigh escaped Bronson's
lips as Doug began to stroke his cock through the material, while
chewing on one of his nipples.

Doug slid his hand under the waistband of Bron's shorts and wrapped
his hand around his now fully erect, 8 inch cock. Doug looked up from
the nipples with playful eyes as Bronson moaned. "Nice cock Bron".
Bronson chuckled and said, "Thanks dude, I think it likes you."

Doug responded. "Let's see if it likes this" and as he said it he
pushed the front of the basketball shorts down below Bronson's balls
and held it there and moved his mouth down onto Bronson's dick, taking
it down to the base in one long, slow motion that almost sent Bronson
over the edge right then and there. Doug's coming back up and off was
excruciatingly amazing for Arroyo, whose cock was very sensitive. Doug
began to lick the head of Bronson's dick and swirl it with his tongue,
tasting the steady flow of pre cum, while massaging the pitcher's nice
set of balls with his hand.

Doug paid close attention to licking the sides, tip and underside of
Bronson's cock, tantalizing him, teasing him and playfully gazing into
his lover's eyes.

Doug stopped just long enough to yank on the shorts and get Bronson to
lift his ass off the chair enough to let the shorts come off. Doug's
motive was twofold. Getting the shorts off was key, but he also took
advantage of Bronson's lifting off the chair to slide his hand
underneath Bronson in search of Doug's ultimate target, Bronson
Arroyo's asshole.

 Doug expertly began to suck on Bronson's dick while wiggling his
finger around Bron's butt crack and finally finding the promised land.
Bronson had never had anything beyond a thermometer and his own
curious fingers stuffed up his ass, but this was much different.
Bronson was so busy enjoying the blow job Doug was giving him that
when Doug forced a finger up his hole, Bronson didn't tense up. Doug
was able to ease one, then two fingers into Bronson's cherry hole and
feel the moist, hot essence of Bronson Arroyo.

Doug didn't want to stop sucking Bronson's awesome cock, but he knew
Bronson wouldn't be able to hold out much longer with Doug sucking and
fingering him. So the back up catcher stood up, a motion that made
Bronson pout. But Doug reached his hand out and took Bronson's hand
and led his naked body to the bed. Bronson sprawled down on his back
and looked up at Doug passionately. Doug pulled his shirt over his
head and unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them and yanked them down.
Bronson got to see his huge bulge and the darkness of the pubic hairs
through the white briefs just before Doug grabbed the waistband with
both hands and yanked them to his knees and then off, one leg at a
time. Bronson had seen Doug naked before, but never completely so full
of lust and sexual energy and he'd never seen Doug's cock completely
hard. Thick, long and intimidating, with a giant bulb of a cock head
shining from pre-cum and aching to find relief.

Doug crawled onto the bed, cock bobbing up and down, side to side as
he made the motions to climb on top of Bronson's hot, waiting body.
Doug leaned in close and kissed Bronson again, his cock jabbing into
Bronson's pelvis. Then breaking the kiss, Doug lifted himself up and
moved forward so that he was sitting on Bronson's chest with his cock
head bouncing right in front of Bronson's face. Which served as
Bronson's cue. It was his turn to suck cock.

Bronson hesitated just a moment, then he opened his mouth and took as
much of Doug's manhood as he could into his mouth and began the up and
down motion that allowed the cock to slide in and out of his mouth, on
his tongue and through his locked lips. He got a really good rhythm
going and loved the feeling of Doug's hot member in his mouth. Bron
reached around behind Doug's legs to play with the catcher's hanging
balls. This seemed to ignite something in Doug, who let out a moan of
pleasure and took more control of the situation. Doug grabbed
Bronson's head a little less gently than previously, keeping it
stationary and began sliding his cock in and out of Arroyo's mouth,
face fucking him.

Bronson was loving this. He loved the feeling of the larger, solid
Mirabelli on top of him, feeding him his cock. He was really getting
into the passivity of this scene and the feeling of being dominated by
his best friend, to submit to his teammates sexual needs.

Meanwhile Doug was getting closer and closer to his boiling point with
each thrust back into Bronson's amazing mouth. He needed something
tighter, he needed to get closer to Bronson, to know him more deeply,
to fuck his tight hole.

Bronson knew this moment was coming when he saw the lube and condoms
earlier that night and was scared that Doug would have wanted Bronson
to fuck him. He didn't know if he could do it. On the other hand, he
was filled with eager anticipation spiked with some fear about taking
it up his own ass. Now it was about to happen. When Doug said, "I want
to fuck your hole." Bronson didn't hesitate, filled with lust, not
wanting this feeling to ever end, replied, "Fuck me dude. Do it!".

Doug didn't need further encouragement. He reached for the night
stand, grabbed a condom package and the lube and slip back down to the
space between Bronson's legs. He grabbed Bronson's legs, one in each
hand and pulled them up and back a bit toward the pitcher's head,
exposing his wonderful ass. "Hold these up like this" he ordered.
Bronson dutifully obeyed, grabbing his legs and presenting Doug free
reign of his most private body part.  Doug lubed a couple fingers and
placed them back in Bronson's hole, wiggling around, getting it slick
inside. "I am going to go easy at first. I can tell you're nervous
about this Bron. Try to relax. If it hurts tell me, I'll pull back,
ok"?

Bronson, enjoying the invasion of his hole by the fingers just nodded
and moaned.

Doug jerked his cock a few strokes and then ripped the condom wrapper
and pulled it out. He slid it down his cock and lubed it up. He
climbed into position behind Bronson's exposed butt hole.
"You ready?" Doug asked.

"Yeah dude, go for it" Bronson replied, shuddering with anticipation and lust.

Without any further hesitation Doug leaned in, found Bronson's hole
with his finger, guided his dick to the same spot and rested the tip
on the entryway. He then pushed slowly, gently and felt the tip
slipping slightly into the lips of Bronson's ass. So far so good, but
there was a long way to go. Doug knew the next motion was going to be
the hardest for Bronson to take, so he went as slowly as possible,
excruciatingly slow considering how badly he wanted to be inside
Bronson's hot ass. He pressed firmly but slowly as the cock head began
to stretch Bronson's virgin sphincter and could feel Bronson tense up
and wince.

"Trust me Bron, this is the worst of it" Doug said comfortingly.

"I'm ok dude, I want this so bad." Bronson said eliciting a smile from Doug.

Doug continued his slow steady pressure against Bronson's hole,
watching his friend's face for a reaction, making sure he was still
enjoying it. A moment later it happened, that moment when the hole
gives up the battle and the cock glides freely passed the sphincter
and deep into the rectum and rubs the prostate. Doug let out an animal
howl as Bronson exhaled and adjusted to the invading cock now buried
deep inside him.

"How's that?" Doug growled, barely able to contain his building lust.

"Its amazing. Huge.  Damn. Dude." Moan.

Doug took that as a green light and looked into Bronson's sweet eyes
one last time in a gentle fashion before losing control of his
civility and becoming consumed by animal lust. Lunging forward, Doug
began to slide his cock in and out of Bronson's burning ass, slamming
wildly in short, fast, deep strokes. Bronson feeling the cock crash in
and out of his hole began to moan so loudly that it was definitely
heard in second baseman Bill Mueller's room next door. Bronson long
past caring, begged Doug to fuck him harder. Doug watched Bronson's
face contort and coo in pleasure as he moaned and pleaded for more. To
which Doug gladly obliged. Doug leaned in and bit Bronson's pouting
lower lip and they locked into another passionate kiss as Doug's cock
continued to piston in and out of Bronson's amazing ass. Doug leaned
back and focused solely on the pleasure burning through his loins. A
series of thrusts inward hit Bronson's prostrate in just the right
spot and sent the pitcher over the edge. As Bronson's orgasm rose up
out of his balls, he let out a series of increasingly loud and higher
pitched squeaks that ended in a speechless whimper as gush after gush
of hot cum shot up out of Bronson's cock, landing on Doug's shoulder,
stomach and on Bronson's stomach as well. As the most intense, amazing
orgasm of his life rocked through his body, Bronson's ass squeezed
uncontrollably like a vise around Doug's cock and pushed the bucking
stud over the edge. Doug pulled out and then slammed his cock back
into Bronson as deep as humanly possible as his orgasm unleashed
several burst of steaming cum into the condom buried deep inside the
pitcher's ass. Doug kept pumping in slow, short strokes until all the
cum had finished coming out. Then, spent, he looked down at Bronson,
who was in a dreamy afterglow that made Doug chuckle softly as he
leaned back in, cock slowly softening inside Bronson's ass, and kissed
his young teammate passionately. When they broke the kiss, Doug, glint
in his eyes, asked, "So, how do you like being the catcher for once?"

Bronson didn't answer, he just licked a drop of his own cum mixed with
Doug's sweat off Doug's shoulder and sighed out of satisfaction. Doug
slipped out of Bronson's ass, reached down, took off the condom and
threw it in the waste basket next to the bed. Bronson, momentarily
missing the feeling of having a cock in his ass mused to himself about
how something that seemed so painful at the beginning could now feel
as if he'd rather go through life with a cock embedded deep within
him. Doug slid up next to Bronson, who turned on his side and allowed
Doug to press his body up against his backside, spooning him, arm
wrapped around Bronson, protecting him as they drifted off to sleep.
Doug reached over Bronson to set the alarm clock as Bronson was
thinking just how perfect and natural this moment felt and how safe
and content he felt lying in this bed, in this moment with Doug
Mirabelli. Bronson whispered, "Doug, dude, I love you." Doug responded
by kissing Bronson on the top of the head and they resumed spooning
and drifted off to sleep.

*WOMP* *WOMP* WOMP* *WOMP*


Now, as Bronson finished reliving his wonderful first night with Doug,
he noticed the clock read 3:05 and the back up alarm was screaming
through the room. He went over to the alarm clock and shut it off as
Doug stirred and rolled over onto his back. Bronson gently tapped his
new lover on the shoulder  and said, "wake-ie, wake-ie!. Dude we're
gunna be late!"

Doug groggily opened his eyes and smirked up at Bronson, whose blue
eyes and loving smile masked the mutual hang over they shared. "Ok.
Ok. I am awake."

"I'll be in the shower, feel free to join me", Bronson said playfully.

"I can't be late today, I am starting, its Wake's turn in the
rotation." Mirabelli served as the knuckleball pitcher Tim Wakefield's
personal catcher because Doug is more comfortable catching the
fluttering pitch.

"I hope the hangover doesn't cost us the game" Bronson teased as he
disappeared into the bathroom, his hot ass wagging back at Doug. Doug
followed quickly behind him. The two had to settle for a fast mutual
hand job in the shower due to the constraints of time, but emerged
clean and as fresh as possible. As Doug quickly dressed back in the
clothes from the night before, Bronson, still naked and giving Doug an
eyeful of playful posing, the hotel phone rang.

"Oh shit, who is that?" Doug said, looking at Bronson who went over
and picked up the receiver.

"Hello"

It was "Tito", Red Sox manager Terry Francona. "Bronson we have an
emergency situation today. Wake ate something that is really fucking
with his stomach and he is puking his guts out. He's not ready to go
tonight. I need you to go early and start this one."

"Ok"

"You comfortable with that kid?"

"I will handle it."

"Good thanks kid. Hey have you seen Belly around?" Belly is the club's
nickname for Doug. Bronson wasn't fond of it.

"Ah yeah we were playing video games in my room last night. He fell
asleep on the sofa."

"Is he there now?" Francona asked, sounding amused.

"Yeah we're about to head down to the lobby". Bronson said, shrugging
at Doug, who had raised his eyebrows.

"Tell him he's still starting tonight and if Wake goes tomorrow night,
he'll get that one too, I'm giving Tek an extra night of rest, ok?"

"Ok I'll tell him."

"Oh and kid..." Francona chuckled a bit. "Billy Mueller says you guys
should try to keep it down in the future when you ahmm 'play your
video games' so he can get some sleep."

"Ah ok" The line was dead.

Doug looked at him imploringly. "Well?"

"Skip says I am starting tonight cuz Wake is sick and he told me
you'll start tonight if it doesn't get rained out and tomorrow with
Wake. I dunno about you, but I don't feel like pitching today dude."

"You'll do fine. What else did he say?"

"It was weird, I guess they got complaints about excessive noise last
night from this room. I know nothing about it .You?" Bronson winked.

"Not a thing".

That night as the rain subsided, Doug Mirabelli served as Bronson
Arroyo's catcher in the final game of the series in Texas. The two
players had really good rhythm and seemed in total sync on the field
as they led the Sox to a 3-0 victory. Bron pitched a brilliant shut
out performance while Doug had three hits in the game with a home run
and two runs batted in. That's the scoring that happened on the field.

After the game, back at the hotel, the roles were reversed, but the
results were the same. Bronson caught for Doug. They had really good
rhythm and seemed in total sync in bed. Their second night in their
new relationship was just as amazing as the first and this time Doug
was the one to tell Bronson he loved him before falling asleep with
him in his arms.

That night and for many more like them, in stadiums and hotels across
the country, the two ballplayers, friends, teammates, and now lovers
won both ends of a double header. Bronson and Doug thus brought a new
dimension to the storied relationship between a pitcher and his
catcher.


"Love is the most important thing in the world, but baseball is pretty
good too."