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 Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 1:31 pm
Maybe he should have picked her up instead of letting her insist that she meet him there. It wouldn't have been any problem, and then he wouldn't have to worry about her getting hit by s car or something else that had him waiting a bit anxiously outside the fence to the field, his back leaning against the gate leading into one of the dugouts. What if she got lost somehow?
Chris let out a sigh, thinking he was just getting ahead of himself. Maybe he was just nervous about Paris not enjoying herself? Sure, she'd said she wanted to do something he liked doing, but really? If you're not that into baseball to begin with, it might take a bit of getting used to. But if she was willing to try, then he was going to give it his best shot.
He was waiting at a local field in the early afternoon, not wanting to interfere with any teams that might have been playing that morning, but for now it seemed as though the place was deserted. There were a few people throwing a frisbee or ball to their dogs in an adjoining field, and some joggers making their way around the park, but other than that, it was pretty peaceful.
There was a bucket of balls waiting beside his feet, an extra glove and batting gloves that he borrowed from his mother, just in case Paris wanted to try catching some, or if she would rather stick to batting. There was an aluminum bat against the fence as well, and he hoped it would be light enough for her.
Now all that was left was to wait for her to show up...
Then again... it would probably help if he wasn't always a few minutes early.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 2:12 pm
Paris had more reasons for insisting that they do something Chris liked that simply appearing to be the supportive girlfriend. Sure, he didn't particularly mind learning a thing or two about baseball if it meant they were spending the afternoon outside in the sweltering heat warmth and sunshine, but that didn't mean he was without ulterior motives. With summer camp had come the realization of just how useful a baseball bat could be, and he was intent on learning how to use one properly. Thus, he'd made some very well placed comments about how they were always going out to dinner or "doing things I like to do," and how eating and sailing and watching movies were all fun, but he really wanted to try something that Chris did when they weren't together.
Finally, when Paris had thought he would just have to come out and say it, Chris had suggested the ball field. Paris was quite pleased with the success. He was really beginning to like how pliable Chris was. It was so easy to get what he wanted from him.
And so he made his way to the baseball field to meet Chris. He wouldn't have minded a ride, but he still wanted to seem self-sufficient even if he really liked Chris chauffeuring him around, and so he'd insisted on walking today, claiming he was going to be out and about in that area of town anyway.
He'd put together a special outfit for their day in the grass and dirt, though to anyone who was a casual sports fan or happened to play on a team, his clothing choice would look rather mismatched. The shirt and the ball cap were the only pieces that could pass as baseball attire -- remembering the Boston Red Sox tee-shirt he'd worn to bed the night he'd stayed at Chris's apartment, Paris had gone out to purchase a fitted tee of his own, and a cap to match, intending to impress his first ever boyfriend by supporting his favorite team. In doing so, he marked today as one of the rare days he bothered to fake any kind of bosom, as the shirt did nothing to conceal the fact that his chest lacked any sort of shape.
Paired with the team shirt, Paris wore a black pleated skirt that looked as if it belonged more on a tennis player or cheerleader than someone who was about to take a few swings and run the bases. His red knee-high socks, too, seemed as if they'd be more appropriate for soccer, though he knew for a fact baseball players sometimes wore socks to the knees as well. He'd seen it once on TV while his dad had been watching a came. Finishing off the outfit was a pair of black converses. He hadn't thought it necessary to purchase cleats if he was just learning the basics.
He approached the field five minutes late, a red and white bag slung over his shoulder to carry his two phones, his pen, his camera, and anything else he saw fit to bring along -- which wasn't much, but as he lacked pockets, he needed some means of carrying it all.
"Sorry I'm late," he gave the necessary apology as he drew close to Chris, a smile stretching across his face. For the moment, he had his newly purchased ball cap on to shield his eyes from the sun. Beneath, his hair was straightened and sectioned off into two braids.
He paused once he was in front of Chris and asked, "How do I look?" before spinning around to show him his outfit.
So what if he was fishing for compliments? Just because he knew he was pretty didn't mean he didn't like hearing it from other people.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 9:53 pm
Chris glanced up when Paris made her way over to the field, immediately straightening up from where he was leaning against the fence.
"Hey, no problem. Did you get lost?" he asked, hoping she didn't have too much difficulty finding her way there. If he'd given her bad directions, he would end up feeling horrible.
Of course, the guilt was swept from his mind when she asked how she looked, and he gave her a glance over... and then a few more glances from the skirt to the knee socks, and back to the B on the front of her shirt. It was better than what he was wearing. He didn't even look like he was going to be playing baseball, what with his normal attire of a mint green polo and light plaid shorts. He wasn't even wearing tennis shoes, but had slipped on a pair of boat shoes before heading out the door. He was at least wearing sunglasses, though. That gave him some cool points, maybe?
"That looks really great on you," he said, avoiding the word 'cute' in case she thought he thought of her as a little girl. He didn't, and he hoped that was obvious, but he was covering all his bases, so to speak. "You look like you were ready for this. Do you have a glove?" he wondered, "Or would you rather just practice batting? It doesn't matter to me."
Whatever she wanted to do, he would try to make it fun for her. They had the afternoon and then, if they weren't too sweaty and nasty feeling, he planned on at least taking her out for ice cream, if not dinner. But he'd get to that topic when it was time.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 10:09 pm
Paris shook his head when Chris asked him if he'd gotten lost, then spun around a second time for good measure. The compliment was decent enough, and the glance overs were nice, but he'd been hoping for something a little better than that. Everything always looked "really great on you" according to Chris.
He stuck his bottom lip out to fake a pout, standing in front of Chris with his hands propped on his hips. "That's it? And I spent hours getting ready this morning," he joked. He hadn't spent any longer than usual, though he had put a little more effort into getting the right clothes to give his ensemble the cute but sporty vibe he was looking for.
He faked a sniffle before dropping the expression and lowering his hands. A smile was quick to return to his face. "Nah, I don't have a glove. I've never played baseball. I actually can't remember if I've ever even thrown a ball. But I can swing a bat, I think," he said, making his way onto the field through an opened gate in the fence that surrounded it and shielded the metal bleachers from any foul balls. He skipped over to one of the dug outs to set his bag onto the bench, not wanting to have to carry it around the whole time.
"So how do we do this? I know I stand here," he said, moving over to station himself at home plate. "But do they have one of those pitching machines we can use? Or are you going to pitch to me? That's what you do, right?"
He wondered if he was asking too many questions and perhaps acting a bit too interested in something he had never shown any sort of interest in before, but he shook it off and figured it was better that he ask things like this than say something like, "teach me how to fight off monsters with a baseball ball."
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 2:25 pm
Okay, so 'really good' wasn't as much of a compliment as he wanted to give her, but he was worried about being too lame or... something like that.
Chris blinked when she pouted, quickly shaking his head. "No, I mean... I you look amazing. I love the shirt. And the skirt," he added offering a sheepish grin. He was a sucker for short skirts. And she always wore skirts that showed off a good amount of leg. Although... "Are those soccer socks...? Not that it really matters!" he quickly added, watching as she went to the dugout, following her in and then out to the field.
"I'll pitch," he said with a small smile. And it was what he did, so it made things easier. Not that he would actually pitch real pitches to her... just enough...
He paused to pick up a helmet and a bat from the dugout, tucking his glove under his arm as he made his way over to home. "Well, we really should warm up first, but since you're only learning..."
Uh, she'd never played baseball before? "Uh. Here... Let me show you how to hold a bat," he said, moving over to her, wondering if he could show her by standing in front of her, but deciding it would be easier just to behind her and reach around. He was tall enough and hand long enough arms to manage it without making things too awkward for her, he hoped. She hadn't minded when he taught her how to play the guitar, at least.
"Here..." he said, dropping both the helmet and the glove and taking her right hand with his right, holding onto the bat with his left so he could help her. "You put your right over the left... Just like that. And make sure they're together and close to the knob. You don't need to grip too tightly. Stay relaxed. Okay, now line up your knuckles..." he explained hoping he wasn't making it too difficult for her.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 4:55 pm
Paris allowed his hand to be taken, inching a bit further backwards so that his back was against Chris's chest as they stood together at home plate. There were times when he was cautious about Chris touching him, wary that he would place his hand somewhere he shouldn't and discover that his body wasn't quite shaped the way a normal girl's would be. He wasn't masculine, wasn't broad in the shoulders at all, nor did he have a deep voice or prominent Adam's apple, but he was skinny, skinnier than he'd been a year ago, at least -- a consequence of the stress caused by his double life, he told himself -- and his chest was flat and his hips narrow. He might be able to fool people by sight, but not always by touch. Chris could very easily brush his hand along his chest to note how fake the minute swell there felt, or his hand could drift lower, passed his stomach, and how was he supposed to explain that?
At the moment, however, the touch was fine -- innocent, nonthreatening, and nothing close to curious or suspicious. Chris's chest against his back felt firm and sturdy, and the hand holding his to the bat was warm, the skin a bit rough, but the touch itself gentle, the arms circled around him strong and steady. Paris shot a smile at him over his shoulder, and inched back again, mischievous and daring. Sometimes, when Chris was being sweet to him and they were sharing a quiet moment together, Paris felt guilty for lying and knew he had to tell him the truth, but he was too afraid of ruining things and loosing his only connection to one of his allies to say anything; then there were other times when the cruel voice in his head laughed, and he had to fight very hard not to think of Chris as a complete and total fool.
"How do I stand?" he asked after taking a few moments to make sure his knuckles were lined up properly, keeping his grip loose as he'd been told to. "Is there a certain pose or position I have to do, or...?"
Presently, he stood as he normally would, feet only slightly set apart, but he couldn't imagine swinging that way would be especially effective. He thought back to the battle at camp, and recalled the memories of attacking the tool shed door and swamp monsters with a bat procured from the ball field there. He hadn't been standing normally then, not in the thick of battle. His knees had been bent slightly, his feet a little further apart, ready to defend himself or attack at a moment's notice.
He tried to emulate that now, spreading his feet apart a little more and letting his knees grow a little less stiff. "More like this?" he asked.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 8:04 pm
"Yeah, just like that," Chris said when Paris got her hands set correctly. He could smell her shampoo from being so closer to her, especially with her back against him, and it took him a few moments to get himself to relax with her so close. A little voice in his head was teasing him for acting like such a virgin, and he knew it was right. It had been a couple years since he'd taken the time to have a relationship with someone, and this relationship with Paris was... it was nice. He'd forgotten how nice it was to have someone to flirt with and talk to on a level that was more than just friendship.
Paris was at the perfect height for him to lean in and press a kiss against the back of her head, his hands releasing hers now that she had the bat held properly. She wasn't like his past girlfriend. He didn't have to worry about her lying to him about where she was going or what she was doing — it seemed like she was always out with him somewhere. She'd rarely said she was busy or had other plans, and it probably helped that she was so willing and ready to get out of her house.
Glancing down, Chris watched as Paris moved her feet into more of a position that they were supposed to be in, his hands dropping down to the outside of her thighs, his fingers brushing against the hem of her skirt. "A little more apart," he said, leaning close to teasingly kiss her ear.
Normally he wouldn't allow himself to show any kind of public displays of affection, but when the field was empty and people were off doing their own things in other places in the park... a kiss or two was okay, right?
"Put your weight on this leg... and this one flexed..." he said, indicating by giving her legs a gentle squeeze. Hopefully he wasn't being too, uh, forward.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 8:44 pm
He let his eyes drift down as Chris's hands went to his thighs, momentarily stunned and stiff with alarm, but he shook it off quickly and hoped Chris didn't notice. The hands were a bit too close to potential discovery for comfort, but other than that he didn't mind it. It didn't take much observation to notice Chris liked a good pair of legs, and Paris was far from modest about his own. Skinny he may be, but hours of dancing had its perks. He smirked in amusement as he tried to imagine what must be going on in Chris's head right now. No doubt it'd make for a good laugh.
The kiss to his ear and the quiet instructions Chris made as his hands brushed at the bottom of his skirt had Paris shivering in delight, and he shifted back again, flush up against Chris's front. He didn't know if his boyfriend had been trying to be suggestive when he said "a little more apart" or not, but Paris's mind was suddenly going in a hundred different directions, none of which were especially clean.
In fact, it had just gone very far down into a very dirty gutter.
Even so, he kept his face composed and did as he was told, putting most of his weight on the appropriate leg and glancing over his shoulder. "Okay, I think I've got it," he said, smiling to show Chris he definitely didn't mind the close contact, though he made sure not to lose track of what Chris's hands were doing.
"And then I hold the bat up like this?" he wondered, lifting it over his right shoulder, keeping his hands positioned as he'd been shown and making sure he didn't disturb the positioning of his feet. He drew the bat slowly and carefully through the air, practicing the motion of a gentle swing without putting Chris in danger of being hit. "Should I let go with my right hand once it gets over here?"
It seemed pretty simple, though he figured trying to hit a ball would be a challenge, if only because it was such a small target. Thankfully, he wasn't all that interested in being able to hit balls, but targets much larger, like youma. He doubted he'd have a baseball bat handy very often, but it'd nice to know that he could use it properly in the event that he did.
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Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2011 9:14 pm
It was tempting to to lift his arms and wrap them around the girl as she stood against him, but that would be much too distracting. And he knew he should probably step away from her lest awkward comments or questions uh... arise.
"That's better," Chris said with a small nod, casually stepping back from his girlfriend so he could see how she was standing. "And yes, just like that," he continued, reaching up to adjust her arm after her practice swing. "Keep your elbow up like this. And no! No, don't let go!" he sputtered, before laughing a bit awkwardly and explaining. "Keep your grip relaxed, but if you let go it might slip out of your hand and hit someone." And that would obviously be very bad.
He moved away from the scent of amber perfume and held out his hand to take the bat from her. "Here... Let me show you," he offered, taking the bat from her and standing back so he wouldn't hit her when he swung. "So, you have your legs apart like this. Slight bend in the knee. Weight on the back leg. Right over left. Knuckles aligned and at the knob," he said as he moved into position. "Now elbow up, and when you swing, you lean back and step into it, like this. And make sure to pivot on your back foot, okay?"
Chris swung the bat slowly, turning with the momentum a swing at full strength would create. "Nice and easy. Keep your eye on the ball. And try not to stand so close that you get your hands hit," he added, now suddenly wary about this being a bad idea. What if she... broke a nail or something and decided to call the whole thing off? Er... maybe he was just overreacting.
Handing the bat back to her, he took a few moments to make sure she was holding it properly, before picking the helmet off the ground.
"You'll have to wear this, too. Sorry, but I'm not going to leave any openings that might result in me taking you to the hospital with a concussion." And with his luck... or lack thereof...
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Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2011 9:37 pm
Paris released the bat and allowed Chris to take it, watching him as he demonstrated an appropriate swing. He made it look so easy, though Paris had clearly been doing it wrong before. Well, it wasn't his fault. He'd only ever seen baseball on the TV, and that had been in passing. He didn't make it a habit of sitting in the living room while his father watched a game. He could do without that particular father/son "bonding experience," thank you very much.
Watching Chris was nice, though. He looked so natural doing it. And handsome. But he always looked handsome. Paris was pretty sure Chris could pick his nose and wipe his snot off on his shirt and look handsome doing it. He let his eyes wander to take in each of Chris's movements, the swing of his arms -- and what nice arms they were! -- the way his legs moved with his pivot. Paris didn't pay as much attention to legs as his boyfriend did, but now that he was actually taking the time to look at Chris's, he realized he had very nice calves. Why he had never bothered to date a baseball player before was beyond him. Chris's physique was phenomenal. It made him feel even skinnier in comparison.
He took the bat back once Chris was done, setting himself into the proper position and hoping he had it right this time. Legs apart, knees bent, weight on the back leg...
Paris blinked as a helmet was present to him, glancing down at it before letting go of the bat with one hand to reach up and pull his baseball cap off and toss it to the side. He didn't want to wear one under the other. "Oh, I had assumed that was your plan," he joked, taking the helmet from Chris and jamming it on his head. "You know, knock me out with a pitch to the head and then have your way with me."
The helmet felt kind of big on his head, but all the foam or padding or whatever it was on the inside kept it from jostling around too much, though he was sure he looked pretty ridiculous.
"Just the look I was going for," he quipped, knocking lightly against the top of the helmet to test it out. "Helmet hair. Was this also part of your plan? To make me look horribly unattractive so no one else will want me? Really, Chris, you should have a little more self-confidence than that. I think I know a good catch when I've got one."
His hands went back to the bat as he dropped into position again. He looked at Chris with a small smile and a nod to let him know he was back to being serious. "Okay. I think I'm ready. Go ahead and throw one at me."
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Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2011 9:36 am
He tried... Er, staying in shape, that is. Keeping himself ready for baseball season, especially since he needed to keep hold of his scholarship. It wasn't really his intention to look good in order to attract others, otherwise he'd have a girlfriend over the past two years when he'd been focusing on getting in shape. But if Paris didn't have a problem with how he looked, then that was a good thing, right?
He laughed lightly when she started making comments about the helmet, shaking his head at her. "No, it wasn't part of the plan. Nothing I, or a helmet, could do would make you in any way unattractive," he pointed out, leaning down to scoop the glove off the ground. "And no. I'm not into that," he said with an awkward looking grimace. Knocking her out and having his way with her...? Er... yeah, she was just joking, obviously, but the idea wasn't at all appealing. He'd be too worried about having hurt her to do anything else, and so there'd be no point.
Chis didn't comment on his low self-confidence, thinking that part hit a little closer to home than her other teasing did. He'd been lucky when Paris decided he was worth giving the time of day. The last thing he wanted to to was screw it up.
Instead, he gave her a thumbs up and ran back over to the dugout to get the bucket of balls. He didn't think they'd go through them all, but he figured having more was better than not enough. He set the bucket next to the mound and picked up a ball to turn over in his hand.
"Okay, are you ready...?" he asked, taking a few steps out, in front of the mount and making sure she was all set before lobbing it under hand for her to hit. She was just learning how to hit, so why not go easy?
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Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2011 11:18 am
"Ready!" he called back, tightening his grip on the bat as he positioned himself properly, then loosening it when he remembered he shouldn't be holding onto it so tightly.
He forced himself not to look at Chris, or at least not directly at him. He did have to look in his direction, of course, if he were going to have any hope of hitting one of the balls. However, he made sure to pay more attention to the ball in Chris's hand than he did anything else, his smile lowering and his brows furrowing as he concentrated on what he was doing. He could so do this. Just swing when the ball came close enough and make contact. It would be a piece of cake, especially seeing as Chris wasn't throwing all that hard to begin with.
As Chris threw, Paris kept his eye on the ball, and when he thought it was close enough, he swung, putting all of his efforts into getting his arms across and pivoting like he was supposed to. Unfortunately, he ended up putting a bit more much effort into it and stumbled with the force of his momentum as the bat streaked right over the ball, which hit the ground a little ways behind him, bounced, and then rolled toward the fence.
Paris looked back at it with a small glare, as if it were the ball's fault he'd completely missed, and then got himself into position again when he returned to facing Chris. "Throw a better one!" he said, sounding just the slightest bit exasperated.
Clearly Chris wasn't taking this all that seriously, otherwise Paris totally would have hit it on the first try.
Or so he told himself...
Paris swung again after Chris had retrieved another ball from the bucket, and again, and again, and each time he missed, until the dirt behind him was littered with some half a dozen balls.
It was on the seventh pitch that he made any sort of contact. He nicked the top of the ball with the barrel of the bat, sent it into the ground in front of him and rolling on toward third base. It stopped in the grass before even making it half way.
"I did it!" he said, jumping up in excitement and grinning at his achievement. "Did you see that? I hit it! If this was a real game, I could go to first base, couldn't I?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2011 11:43 am
He threw the ball when Paris said she was ready, although he winced a little when she kept missing. He knew it wasn't his throwing that was messing her up or whatever. She just needed to concentrate. Maybe he should have brought a teeball stand for her to practice with, first? He hadn't known she'd never played before.
Chris laughed lightly when Paris finally hit the ball, watching it roll along the ground for a bit. Well, she needed to work on her hand/eye coordination, but it was a start. He had to wonder how she would do with just throwing and catching.
"Well, you'd be able to try and run to first base. You'd have to beat the ball being thrown to first, or being tagged out by whoever picks it up," Chris said, moving to pick up a couple more balls and hold them in his glove. "Did you want to try again...? With six strikes and only one hit..." he trailed off teasingly, holding up another ball that he was going to throw.
He threw it overhand this time, hoping the change in angle would help her out. Sometimes it was just more difficult to get a hit while the ball was underhand. At least in his experience. Then again, he'd only played softball for his church's youth group. It wasn't as fun as baseball was, for him, though. Probably because he loved being a pitcher.
"Keep your eye on the ball," he called as he threw it, waiting to see if Paris would be able to hit it or if he should get another one ready to throw.
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Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2011 12:04 pm
Paris huffed and sent a dirty look Chris's way that he didn't necessarily mean. "Not everyone can be perfect on their first try!" he said.
Inwardly, he grumbled to himself. He really had thought he'd get the hang of it right away.
He nodded to let Chris know he was ready for his next pitch, keeping his eye on the ball and swinging when he felt it was the correct moment. He thought the ball made a clearer path now that Chris was throwing overhand -- or maybe he only thought that because he knew that's how Chris would have pitched during a game. Either way, he missed again. He didn't know if he'd swung over the ball or under it, or if it had already gone by him by the time he got the bat around, but it hit the ground and rolled along the dirt to join the others behind him.
His missed three more balls before finally making another hit. This one had the happy circumstance of staying in the air and shooting right back toward Chris. Paris crowed happily and jumped up again, insanely pleased with himself.
"That was better, wasn't it?" he said, momentarily removing his helmet to wipe at the sweat along his forehead, before replacing it immediately. "I just have to practice a little, is all! I bet if I did this for a couple of weeks, I'd hit as good as you!"
Okay, so maybe he was being a bit too confident in saying that.
He honestly thought it was a possibility, though. Until he missed another ball...
His expression turned the slightest bit frustrated, but he tried not to let it bother him. "You can throw it faster than that, can't you? Throw it like you would during a game! I want to see what it's like!"
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Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2011 12:52 pm
Chris grinned and held up his hand to catch the ball when it was shot back to him. He would have used his glove but it was already full of other balls he was holding on to.
"Very good!" he called over to Paris, glad that she was having at least some fun, even if she wasn't hitting every ball. He decided not to mention that she would have been called out for it being caught and instead threw her the next pitch.
"That's actually a possibility," he agreed with a grimace. "My batting isn't that great. I need to get better." It sucked having a low batting average, even if it was expected for a pitcher. He wanted to be useful however he could. Even if the pitcher wasn't usually in the batting lineup, he still needed to get better.
He blinked curiously when Paris told him to throw faster. He wasn't sure if he should...
"Make sure you're not leaning over the plate, okay...?" he said, not wanting her to get hit on accident. It would be a lot easier for him with a catcher there, but... if she wanted to see, then he didn't mind showing off a little.
He set the rest of the balls back into the bucket, moving back to the mound so he could get himself ready, rolling his shoulder to make sure it was loose enough and then digging at the dirt with his boat shoes. "Ah, I'm not wearing cleats... I don't know how good this will be," he admitted, hoping that he wouldn't end up pulling something because he couldn't get a proper footing.
He stood back, either way, placing his fingers along the proper seams of the ball and taking a deep breath to focus himself. He made sure his girlfriend wasn't standing right over the plate, before winding up and releasing one of the fastballs he got his scholarship for.
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