NOW

FROM THE YANKEES BROADCAST BOOTH

And Rory Mack Jr hits it hard and long to right. It's up against the wall, but Ashley plays it off perfectly. He saved extra bases there for Rory, but Nurse's no hitter has finally been broken up in the top of the sixth.

You know, Rory has always hit well at Fenway. I asked him before the game why he always seems to get hot here and all he said was that Boston brings out the best of him. He loves hitting at this ballpark. But he has had his struggles too, if he doesn't hit it out of the park.

Looks like he and Cortez are having a conversation—that's a ball outside. The two always seem to have smiles on their faces when the Red Sox face the Yankees. Remember, they were teammates in the minors for almost two years before Cortez got in with the Boston farm system and Mack Jr was brought up to the bigs. The two have remained good friends throughout their careers in Boston and New York.

*

"That could've been a double," Julien said, taking his spot once again tucked into first, awaiting a throw from his pitcher. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, right overtop of the ever-fading, jagged scar that stretched across it; a small light stripe on his tan skin. "You should be standing at second right now."

"You're out of your damn mind." Rory took about five steps off the basepath. A lead that said he was not in the mood for stealing. A baserunner wasn't something his team could afford to lose. Not when Trevor Nurse had been lights out the entire time. He was lucky to be standing on first with how well the home team had been playing.

"Didn't know anyone could be faster than you, but here we are," Julien said. "At first base."

Rory looked away from Nurse to glare at the other man. All he was met with was a shit-eating grin—Julien Cortez knew exactly what he was doing. He saw the split-second glimmer in Julien's eyes and dove back to the base. The slap of a tag on his ass came after he felt the base under his fingers.

He gazed over his shoulder to check that Julien Cortez, like the little shit he was, had actually thrown the ball back and not tried to hidden ball trick him. (Rory didn't want to talk about it, but it had happened once before. Julien's first year in the big leagues, Rory's second. Fucking embarrassing and the clip always seemed to show up online when he was in a slump.) After seeing Trevor Nurse catch the ball, he pushed himself off the ground.

As he brushed the dirt off himself, Rory could hear Julien laughing. Hiding it behind his glove didn't particularly help.

"You're an asshole," Rory said as he took another lead off first.

Julien kicked at a patch of dirt with his cleat before getting back to his position, right foot slapped against the bag. "Don't know what you mean."

Rory wiped his hands off on his jersey. Always hated the way he got dirt in his batting gloves. "You know exactly what I mean."

The pitch was thrown and Julien quickly switched his feet to face the batter. Rory's teammate swung and missed and the glare that the Red Sox catcher, Bobby Deville, shot in his direction was enough for him to sprint the couple steps back to the base.

"You know he's not going to throw it here, right?"

"Like you're actually trying to tell me anything right now."

"You going out for dinner tonight?" Julien asked.

Rory gave a half glance to his first base coach before giving his attention back to the man in the opposing team's uniform. The thing about Julien Cortez, Rory had learned in eight years of knowing him, was that he was about as subtle as an out of the park home run when he wasn't being careful. And the people he wasn't careful around were only a trusted few. That included, unfortunately at that moment, Rory, who stared at the other man for a little too long when actively playing a ball game.

Rory snapped his attention back to the game. Another swing and a miss. 1-2. "That depends on how this game goes."

"Poor sport."

Another dive back to the base. That tag was on Rory's hip. His hand barely got back to the base in time. Julien tossed the ball back quickly.

Rory pushed himself up with a grunt. "Jesus, Jules."

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"You've been in the bigs longer than I have," Julien said. "Don't act like a rookie."

"Most people don't have to deal with—" Another stolen glance at his base coach, but he was reading the batting order and clearly not paying any attention to Rory. "—you."

Julien smiled as he took his pickoff position again.

"You know he's only got one more throw and then I get second," Rory said. Two could play at whatever stupid game they were playing. Six innings of not making it to first base probably meant Julien was more in the mood for conversation than he ever had been before. He should've tried being in centerfield all by himself no matter what the hit counts were.

"That's if you're not out," Julien said.

"Odds are in my favour." Rory took three steps off the base.

"You got two out on you, bud," Julien said.

"Bud?"

Maybe Rory should've seen it coming.

Trying to avoid the tag was hopeless. Even the swim move didn't stop Julien from slapping him in the chest with his glove, ball perfectly thrown so it was all one fluid motion, and cheering the out. Rory's fingers never made it back to the base and the umpire pumped his arms for the out with very little consideration for Rory's feelings. Rude.

Rory went to look at the replay, a foolish half-thought shot across his brain and hoped that he was at least close to being safe. But the scoreboard was off; only focused in one eye. He winked his eye a couple times and nothing made his sight any better.

"Think that means dinner's on you," Julien said.

Rory groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He pulled one of his batting gloves off and forced his eyelid open wider. When he let go, he blinked a couple times and it didn't sort out that his vision looked screwy. "I think my contact fell out."

That changed Julien's demeanor more than he intended it to. He took a knee beside Rory. "Are you alright?"

The training staff had already jogged out, kneeling beside Julien.

"Rory," one of them said. "Rory. What's going on? You okay?"

"I'm fine," Rory said. "But I can't see properly."

"Right or left eye?"

"Left," Rory said, he sat up and the offset from his eyes made him a little nauseous. He closed the eye missing the correction. "My contact lens is... somewhere on the ground."

The trainer dug into their belt and pulled a lens case out. The caps were labelled RMJ, so they couldn't mix anyone's prescriptions up, and Rory kind of wished he could just be RM for once. Nobody else on the team had those initials, he didn't need them to be there.

"Do you want to put it in?" they asked.

"I can't see what I'm doing," Rory said. "And my hands are dirty."

"I'm only really here to flush out your eye if you got dirt in it," they said.

"I'll do it." Julien held his glove by the laces with his teeth and took the contact lens case from the trainer.

"He could do it in the clubhouse—"

Julien opened the left side of the case and dipped his finger into the solution.

"That's not sterile—"

Rory's eye was forced open by a pair of fingers immediately before another finger poked him in the eye. His hand shot up to where his eye stung from the impact. Maybe he should've pretended to really hurt himself and get pulled from the game instead.

"There you go. All fixed."

Rory blinked a couple times and looked over at the scoreboard again. Now in laser focus. "I—alright."

Julien helped him up. Gave him a slap on the ass for his troubles. "Don't say I never did anything for the Yankees organization."

*

The nice thing about visiting Boston was that Rory never had to sleep in a hotel room.

The better thing about visiting Boston was that Rory didn't have to sleep alone after too many texts messages and maybe a video call if he was lucky.

The sex was good, too. Great, even. He couldn't forget that fact, nor ignore it. First time the Yankees had seen the Red Sox this season. There was a lot overdue that couldn't be done in a satisfying way over video.

"You know," Rory said as Julien walked back into his bedroom. "You were an ass today."

Julien had on a sheet mask—reusable because, and Rory could quote it since he'd heard it a thousand times if he heard it once, I care about the fucking environment, you know—and a headband on to keep his hair out of it. The bun he'd attempted only kept the top portion of his hair in it, but there was no fighting it at the chin-length that it was. He sipped an icy glass of water with a metal straw. "Do you know how bored I was today? I usually get to talk to people before the sixth inning. I had to do something."

"You also poked me in the eye." Rory had stuck to his usual skin care routine despite planning to spend the night at Julien's; soap and a towel. That was the reason he'd been in bed much quicker than the owner of the apartment. He held out his hand for the cup.

"And then you immediately got me out on my home run so thanks for that." Julien held out his water and Rory took a long drink from it. The metal straws always made it easier to drink from for no reason. Eventually, Julien just gave him the cup. "Thirsty bitch."

"Not a home run if I catch it." Rory finished the water and put it on the nightstand over a coaster with a photo of the two of them in the minors when they were on the same team. That was new. "And your finger really hurt."

Julien's apartment was always nicer than the last time Rory had been in there and it never ceased to be the one place in the world he felt most comfortable. His shitty place in New York was more out of the necessity of not wanting to stay at his parents' place than anything else. There were several new additions to the space that Julien had added since the last time Rory had been there. An emerald green velvet couch that Rory was almost immediately tackled onto so they could break in the cushions to maximum comfort for kissing. And other. He had finally put in shelving down the hall that led to the washroom and his 2021 Rookie of the Year trophy sat with every national championship trophy he'd ever won, from little league to minors. (Rory always found it sweet that he kept all of them; he was sure his dad had them in a box somewhere, but never out in the open.) (Hard to be proud of his son's little league world series trophy when he had four actual World Series rings with the Yankees, three before Rory was even a thought and the fourth when he was on the way.)

The last thing that Julien had added made Rory a little giddier than he should have been. After a healthy dinner of too much chicken teriyaki shoved in their mouths between kisses, Julien and Rory had made it to the second floor of the apartment, which acted as Julien's gigantic bedroom because of the fact that there were no walls on the loft spare the small walk-in closet that Julien had gotten done one of his first years in the majors. But the nightstand on Rory's side of the bed was new. Rory didn't have it in him to be anything other than thrilled when he saw it. It felt like a sign that he was home, even if the feeling during the season was always few and far between.

"I should've let you stay blind," Julien said. "I can't believe you went over the wall."

Rory grinned. "Did it look cool?"

Julien rolled his eyes. "I tipped my helmet to you and you know it. Shut the hell up."

"Was it you who had your dick in my mouth earlier, or was that someone else in this big empty apartment?" Rory asked, sitting up so he could face the other man. He pulled at the edges of Julien's pyjama shirt, unbuttoned and warm from the dryer. "'Cause you're being so rude and I might have to go sleep on that gorgeous couch."

Julien was easy to pull closer; and he fit perfectly between Rory's legs. He draped his wrists over Rory's bare shoulders. "If you waited all this time to go sleep on the couch for the first series we get to see each other this season, we'll have to reconsider this entire thing."

Rory laughed. "Seven years and you still take me for a fool."

Julien wrinkled his nose at him. "Actually, I take you for a little spoon."

"Oh, Mrs. Doubtfire's got jokes, huh?"

Julien's jaw dropped but the laugh that came out betrayed him. "Fine. See how you like not spooning at all."

"No," Rory whined. Like a dickhead.

He came by it honestly. Most times, when the offseason came, whenever it came per team, they got to go home to their loved ones and celebrate a job well done. Sure, they had to keep their workouts going and keep themselves in shape, but there wasn't too much else they had to do. It wasn't a year-round job and Rory loved that about his career.

What sucked was that, by not being out, he went back to Rochester and Julien went back to Philly. They kept talking and texting throughout the offseason, but they didn't get the same closeness that the other couples got in the major leagues. Rory didn't get to go home to a boyfriend because the world wasn't allowed to know he had one. Hell, neither of their families knew either, and why would they tell the world before they told people they cared about?

There was a recurring dream that Rory had the last seven years that he had to live through several times a year. He'd go see his mom in New York and his dad wouldn't be home. Julien was with him and they barreled down the road he knew too well to his childhood home. Smiles on their faces like nothing was wrong with the world. Rory's mom, Mandy, would open the door, smiling. She'd kiss Rory on the cheek, hug Julien like he was her son, too. They'd sit down to a homecooked dinner and joke about who knew what. Sun would shine through the blinds because the world was light and the future was brighter.

But it always twisted at some point during their night; Rory's dad would come home and so would the reporters he saw after games and knew all too well. They'd come bearing pitchforks and their hate threw fireballs. Rory always lost track of Julien and no matter how many times he'd had the nightmare, he could never find him again before he woke up. Usually in a cold sweat. And most of the time, there was nobody there beside him in bed to reassure him that the world loved him. If Julien happened to be beside him, he'd place a thousand kisses along a bare, sleeping shoulder, and hope it didn't disturb him.

Now he supposed occasionally he'd wake up and there was a nightstand that was all his in a room he didn't pay for. That was something, right?

"Guess that settles that, huh?" Julien asked, snapping Rory out of his horrible daydream. He narrowed his eyes only slightly. "Where'd you go, there? You looked... lost."

Rory wrapped his arms around Julien's waist and forced him to stand closer. Hugged himself into Julien's stomach, face buried in soft abs.

Julien let a hand run through the short hair on the back of Rory's head. "You're not still upset with me for poking you in the eye, are you?"

"'M not upset," Rory said. He leaned his forehead against Julien's stomach. "Better than the alternative."

"Now you're looking down at my—"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"You've already flattered me plenty tonight."

That was always the deal. They'd gone from pasta to blowies but that didn't change anything else about celebrating the person who hit a game winner. And Julien fucking Cortez hit a grand slam.

"Your sister texted me during the game." Rory was always slow to crawl out of the hole he'd dug but Julien was always helpful in finding his way out even if he didn't know he was doing it. He looked up at those gentle brown eyes and wanted to melt like it was the first time he'd seen them.

"Did she conspire for you two to meet Cruella Queen without me again?"

"That was once." About a year and a half prior, the only fight they'd ever gotten in. All because Rory didn't get Julien an autograph and in his anger, Julien had called Rory a fucking whore for it. Rory hadn't lived down his so-called betrayal ever since.

"I'll keep bringing it up until you fix it."

Rory rolled his eyes. "Juni was talking about you."

"Weird she'd say things about me to you," Julien said.

"You still haven't told her?"

"You're acting like that's easy."

Rory couldn't say he knew anything, he was an only child. Born and bred for baseball. No part of him would ever make Julien do something before he was ready to. That's not what Rory was in his life for. He changed the subject. "She wanted to know if I was hurt. And she called you disgusting for sticking your dirty fuckin' finger in my eye."

"I thought about spitting on my hand," Julien said. "Would that have been better?"

"That actually might've outed you," Rory said.

Julien laughed and he always wrinkled his nose when he did; just on the white scar. Rory enjoyed watching it scrunch.

"I told her I trusted you," Rory said.

"Gay," Julien said.

That was enough for Rory to yank him onto the bed. A fit of cackles escaped the other man's lips as he hit the mattress. Flailed limbs failed to keep Rory away from kissing him too many times.

Eventually, Julien caught his head and kissed him on the mouth. Gently. He was always soft with it, almost like he was unsure. Rory couldn't blame him. They had always felt like they were on borrowed time with their secret and if they savoured it, maybe it would last a little longer.

"It's so late," Julien said between kisses.

"'S'what happens when we have a night game," Rory said.

"Trying to throw me off for tomorrow?" Julien's legs pulled Rory against him, so Rory had a suspicious feeling that he wasn't really that bothered by the distraction.

"You can't be the hero two games in a row," Rory said. "God, you're greedy."

Julien kissed him again. A little harder. Mumbled, "Don't rob me of my home run and I won't want to hit it harder next time."

Rory's lip got bit ever so slightly. Like he was being teased. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"Not a single person in the world nearly shits their pants every time they eats a crunchwrap," Julien said. "That's the reputation you have."

Rory let his arms drop and fell on top of Julien. Full dead weight.

"Oh my god—" Julien laughed, trying to push him. "Get the hell off me."

"So tired," Rory said. He nuzzled into Julien's chest like he wanted to live in his ribcage. Some days that might have been easier; just for him to become one with the beating heart. "Need my beauty sleep. Can't be ugly when I pass that adorable Red Sox first baseman tomorrow after I hit it over the green monster."

"Undeniably smokin' hot Red Sox first baseman needs to take his mask off."

Rory reached up and might have accidentally, and very lowkey, slapped Julien in the face. He pinched his fingers and grabbed the mask before throwing it somewhere on the floor over his shoulder. Don't say he never did anything for the Red Sox organization. Fucking asshole.

"Can you go pick that up? That's so fucking gross—"

The kiss Rory interrupted him with was reciprocated, so he pulled away. Pushed himself up so he could look at Julien, who frowned at him. There was a slight sheen to his skin from the mask, reflecting in the light.

"Now you're being a tease."

"Please tell the so pretty it's fucking annoying Red Sox first baseman that if he slaps me in the ass on live television ever again," Rory said, "he's not getting any head."

Julien smiled and Rory wanted to kiss each crinkle beside his eyes. "The pain in the ass Red Sox first baseman hopes that the team with the pinstripes' perfectly wonderful centrefielder knows he loves him."

Rory kissed him again quickly. "Centrefielder loves you too. And missed you more than he wants to admit."

"First baseman would love you a little more if you went and picked up the face mask off the floor."

Rory rolled his eyes and pushed himself up off the bed. "As you wish."

"Love you."

"I love you."