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."