Woes of the Wingmen

№ 5:

"Finally, you're here!" Bruce looked up to find Vance. Whose curly (and gorgeous) hair was in a ponytail and he took off his denim jacket, the one with the club and spade symbols on either side. And set it on the bleachers.

"Here," he threw a baseball mat. It fit into his right hand perfectly.

"I wanna practice my hitting first. And you did say you would like to throw shit around as a sport."

He looked confused, Bruce realizing this, elaborated.

"I mean when you said you've always wanted to play football."

"Oh, I'm surprised you remember." He smiled a little.

They got into position, Vance had already seen a couple of baseball games with his dad, so he was already familiar.

"Hit me."

He threw it with all his might. But it was so fast that Bruce missed it.

"How many turns are we doing?"

"Five, and then we can switch."

He nodded and then waited for Bruce to prepare. He smiled with his lips as encouragement. Bruce couldn't help but return it.

Vance tried to throw it a little slower this time, to make it easy on Bruce. He still missed it, but seemingly on purpose.

"Don't go easy on me, Van."

His eyebrows went up in surprise at the nickname. But he shook it off and threw the baseball again. This time, Bruce hit it.

"Nice job, Rue." He had a smug look on his face. Seemingly saying the pet name because Bruce said it first. He only smiled, being unbothered.

He proceeded to hit the ball for the next two runs, hitting a new record for most balls hit in a row.

They switched places but when Bruce saw Vance holding the bat, he noticed his form was off.

"Hold on, Vance," he said, walking over.

"What?"

"Your form is wrong. You're supposed to hold it like this." He fixed it by spotting him. The chest-to-back contact made Vance gulp. And his face went slightly red. Bruce assumed it was just embarrassment, he was only half-right.

"There you go!"

He smiled only a little. His head was still not in the game. He shook it off and prepared himself.

He looked at Bruce intensely, his eyebrows furrowed. The pitcher found that little habit of his cute. But he needed to focus and throw the baseball.

He threw it and Vance missed.

"Sorry, I just have bad hand-eye coordination."

That was a lie, he had a bad attention focus.

"It's okay I do too. It takes practice."

He nodded in understanding.

The next two balls he missed, making him curse. But after that, he finally managed to hit it. Resulting in a scream, that was happy for once.

"Suck it, fuckers!"

His middle fingers were to the sky. Bruce only laughed.

V: His laugh is cute, I like seeing him like that.

Vance looked at him, softly, with what looked like heart eyes to anyone else besides them.

He hit another ball after the next one. Being his last turn, they switched places two more times. Vance liked baseball, but he especially liked being the pitcher. He would like to pretend the ball was the Grabber's head. And sometimes Bruce would imagine the same thing.

"Man, I'm exhausted. Wanna go for some pizza?"

Vance was surprised, he thought he would've wanted to be done with him by now. But he accepted the offer.