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Chapter Text

Friday, March 29, 2019

A lot had happened in the last week. Wednesday, they had sat down as a family and discussed the issue of the grandparents again. Daniel had finally made up his mind. He wanted to meet them. He could tell that his father and brother thought he was making a mistake; opening himself up to getting hurt. He couldn’t blame them for that. Each had, in their own way, been hurt by his grandparents, but the need to meet them, to understand them, was too strong to ignore. His mother had always been a great, gaping absence in his life, and despite the best efforts of his father and brother to fill the void, he could still feel the weight of her absence. He just felt, somewhere deep down, that getting to know them might help him to understand why his mother had left. Of course Esteban and Sean had explained it over and over, and they had always insisted it wasn’t his fault, but somewhere deep down, he had his doubts. He needed to do more than just believe. He needed to know.

They had been surprisingly supportive, despite those misgivings, though. Yesterday, Esteban had called and made arrangements to initiate contact. All three were somewhat surprised that the Reynoldses didn’t just hang up on him. But they didn’t, and so Daniel had shared a short and awkward conversation with them. It was fraught with nervous energy, feeling each other out, strangers getting to know one another. Still, it had been a start. They seemed eager to meet him. Sorry about how things had turned out. Remorseful over missing so much of their grandsons’s lives.

To Daniel’s surprise, Sean had talked to them, too. Sean had shared an almost pleasant conversation with Stephen, but Daniel could see the confused, hurt little boy Sean used to be hiding just below the surface. His conversation with Claire had been stiffer, more formal, but still polite. Daniel could see how much effort that took, too. But nevertheless, the talks had taken place. They were moving forward. Cautiously and slowly, but forward.

It was an awful lot to process, and even after a whole day, he was still struggling with it. He had agonized over it before bed. He had had dreams about it while he slept. He had mulled it over during his morning shower. He had daydreamed about it during classes when he was supposed to be paying attention to math or science or the rules of grammar. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it anymore, because the day of the Tune-Up Tournament had finally arrived. School was out for the day, but the baseball team’s night was just beginning. They had two games tonight; one in the late afternoon and one in the evening, with a break for food in between.

Even though these games would not count as part of the official season, everyone was excited for it, and if the enthusiastic cheers from the other players on the other teams during the opening ceremony was anything to go by, the Ospreys were not alone in that regard. Last weekend, the JV and Varsity teams had enjoyed their version of the Tune-Up Tournament. The JV team finished 4-4, and the Varsity team finished 5-3. Coach Harris seemed fine with those results, though the boys themselves did not. The older boys had been pushing themselves all week trying to make up for the weaknesses the tournament had exposed, and the sixth graders, as they had been coached, tried their best to learn from those mistakes, too.

Coach Harris had explained to the boys how the tournament would work differently than the regular season. In the season, their pitching rotation would center around three pitchers, but in the tournament they would be using four. In both cases, though, Coach Harris would be adjusting the pitching assignments to face the best available pitcher against the better teams whenever possible. Basically, that meant that Jayden would face their toughest competition, Naresh would face the next-best teams, Javier the next two, and Tommy the weakest two.

As luck would have it, their first game of the tournament was against the Stewart Middle School Panthers out of Tacoma, generally regarded as the weakest team in the tournament. That meant that it was Tommy Wilson slated to pitch for the Ospreys, and poor Tommy was a big bundle of nerves. Tommy and Noah had gone out with Coach Harris to represent the team for the coin toss.

The boys looked resplendent in their brand new Home uniforms; the lighter Vegas Gold ones. Their hats were perched jauntily atop their heads, bearing the school’s falcon head logo. Their new cleats were shiny in the afternoon sun. Their counterparts wore uniforms of black and a garish, almost neon, green. All of the boys from both sides looked ready and eager.

The coaches had already handed in their rosters and line-ups, and the umpires had already conducted the pregame equipment check to make sure that all of the gear from bats and balls to catcher’s equipment was rules-legal. Unsurprisingly, it was all legit. The odd piece of illegal equipment might get found now and then, but that was usually the result of an oversight; a practice Fungo bat getting packed with the game bats, for example. There’s not much call for cheating in sixth grade baseball.

The umpire had checked the lineups over, too, and seeing nothing obvious amiss, tucked them into one of the pouches he wore on his belt. Umpires have many such pouches to hold all the various accouterments they might need; a clicker (the device they use to track balls and strikes), a small brush to clean off the plate, spare baseballs, the aforementioned lineups, and a small pad and pencil to write down any necessary information, such as ejected players or coaches.

The umpire held his mask in his hand, talking to the teams.

“Stewart captains, ready?” the umpire asked.

The boys and their assigned coach all nodded.

“Osprey captains, ready?” the umpire asked.

Noah, Tommy, and Coach Harris nodded.

“Stewart, you will call it in the air. This is Heads. This is Tails,” the umpire recited with a practiced air. As he said this last, he held the coin with the appropriate face up in his palm, waving it to show the heads and tails to each team so that they would know what it would look like. The coin was a custom coin about the size of a half-dollar, apparently made to celebrate the tournament. The heads was a bust of famous historical educator Asa Mercer, the teacher that taught the first class at the University of Washington in 1861, when the University actually taught primary school classes, not college classes. The Tails side was the logo of the Seattle Interscholastic Athletics Committee situated next to the logo of the Washington State Interscholastic Athletics Committee, the two organizations jointly hosting the tournament.

“Who is calling it?” the umpire asked, looking the delegation from the Panthers.

A short blond boy raised his hand, offering a shy smile. The umpire nodded and prepared to toss.

“Call it in the air,” the umpire reminded him and the flipped the coin up high.

“Heads,” the blond boy said immediately.

Noah smirked to himself.

“Should have gone with Tails. Tails never fails,” Noah thought.

That was a silly superstition. Tails was statistically the more likely outcome on most coins, but the difference was negligible; significantly less than a single percent.

Silly or not, luck was on their side. The coin came up Tails.

“The coin is Tails,” the umpire noted, showing the result to both teams. “Ospreys, you have won the toss. Do you want to bat or take the field?”

“We’ll take defense,” Coach Harris spoke up.

The umpire nodded.

“Osprey has elected to take the field, they are the home team and will bat last. Stewart, you are the visiting team and will bat first. Any questions?” the umpire recited, having gotten the pregame spiel down to a science at this point.

There were none, all parties shaking their heads no.

“Then let’s have a nice clean game. Play ball,” the umpire recited.

The home plate huddle broke up, the teams going back to their respective sides while the umpire waited behind home plate. He stooped low and brushed the plate clean. This was mostly just to have something to do, as he had already brushed it clean before the plate meeting.

“We’re Home team, grab your gloves,” Coach Harris shouted as they returned to the dugout.

Charles quickly started prepping the fielders while Coach Harris rushed to help Noah put on his catcher’s gear.

The Panthers coach, meanwhile, had shouted to his team that they were the visitors.

“BAT FIRST?” the coach challenged.

“SCORE FIRST!” the Panthers players answered.

Tommy looked anxiously over at the opposing dugout at the sound of the shout.

“Not on our watch,” Jayden said.

“You’ve got this,” Daniel said, clapping a supportive hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“And we’ve got your back,” Chris reminded him.

Tommy breathed a little easier after the pep talk. He nodded at his teammates.

“Let’s go, guys,” Harry said.

“We’re hunting goose eggs, boys. Go find me some,” Coach Harris shouted.

This was playful slang for zeroes across the board. This meant no hits, no walks, no runners, no runs. A clean shutout inning. That’s the easiest way to win a game; stack up clean innings and the rest takes care of itself. Perfection is less intimidating when you break it up into smaller pieces. Not games, innings. Not innings, at bats. Not at bats, pitches. You do one thing right, then the next, and then the next, until you’ve stacked up enough perfect plays that the not-so-perfect plays don’t matter.

The boys grabbed their gloves and charged the field with fire in their eyes. They took some extra balls with them to warm up. The infielders tossed the balls around the bases, and the outfielders tossed relays to each other in the outfield. Once Noah got his gear on, he got situated behind the plate and Tommy started tossing his warmup pitches. He was a little shaky at first, but soon found his rhythm. Noah gave him clear, solid targets and his signals were easy to read.

After a few pitches, the umpire cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted “BALLS IN!”

This was the fielders’ cue to throw the spare balls back to the dugout. They came bouncing in and Coach Harris collected them, quickly stowing them in an equipment bag. The only person left with a ball was Tommy, taking his last few warmup pitches. When he reached his allotted limit, the umpire held his hands high and shouted again.

“PLAY BALL!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Tommy held onto the ball, waiting for the batter to step in. Once the kid stepped up, Tommy dug the ball into his hip, rolling it in his fingers as Noah cycled through the signs.

“Fastball, straight down the middle,” Tommy thought. Bold, but Noah wouldn’t have called for it unless he was sure Tommy could do it. Still, Tommy shook him off.

Noah sighed and signaled again; sinking fastball, inside. Tommy nodded. That was his most comfortable pitch. He gripped the ball and came set. He paused and then took his full windup, unleashing his best pitch.

Tommy held his breath as batter took a swing, but the bail sailed in, tailing inside at the last second. There was a satisfying slap of leather on leather as the ball hit Noah’s glove and Tommy released that breath.

“STEEEE-RIKE ONE!” the umpire shouted animatedly.

All the boys laughed at the umpire’s theatrical delivery, even the kid who just whiffed on the pitch.

“That’s the way. Just like that. All night long,” Coach Harris yelled from the dugout.

Both he and Charles clapped excitedly and rooted Tommy on as Noah returned the ball to him.

“Hunting goose eggs, one pitch at a time,” Tommy reminded himself.

Tommy’s search for goose eggs in the hits column ended in less than one inning. With the first two batters already out, the third batter hit a little bloop single that just slipped over Harry’s outstretched glove and plopped into right field. Javier charged in on it and he got there fast, but not before the Panthers runner made it to first. As the players on both sides prepared for the action to continue, the coaches of both sides chattered to their players, issuing instructions.

“Look alive out there, defense! Look alive!” Charles shouted.

The outfielders were already paying attention, but they perked up even more at the shout, coiling themselves like runners in the blocks before a race.

“Force out at first and second. Pick your base,” Coach Harris called.

The infielders nodded and readied themselves, just as the outfielders had done. On any infield hit, the player fielding the ball could choose whether to throw to first base or second base. A force out meant that all they had to do was beat the runner to the bag with the ball, tagging the runner himself was not necessary.

This was the complicated dance of the infielders. If the ball was hit to the third base side, either Daniel or Clayton would attempt to field it, depending on who had the better angle. If it was Clayton, Daniel would back out of the way to give Clayton a clear throwing angle to second. Clayton could also throw to first. If it was Daniel, he could either throw to first, throw hard to Chris (who should be covering second), flip it to Chris, or try to run to the bag himself to beat the runner.

If the ball were hit to the first base side, then Daniel would need to cover second while Chris tried to field the ball. Chris would then have the same options that Daniel and Clayton had; throw to first, throw to second, or leg him out. Chris would have one more option, too. While he didn’t have to tag the runner, doing so would still be an out. If he fielded the ball in time to catch the runner going by him, a simple tag would end the inning.

All of those many moving parts had to be kept in mind and juggled in preparation to respond to whatever happened at the plate.

The runner took a cautious lead at first base and Harry slid over to the bag in case Tommy wanted to try for a pick off. Noah didn’t seem too interested in that, though; he kept signaling Tommy to ignore the runner. It was a good call on Noah’s part. The runner didn’t get any farther than first. The next batter went down swinging on three straight pitches for the third and final out.

The Ospreys trotted into the dugout and the Panthers prepared to take the field, each in the opposite roles they had been in before. The crowds for both teams cheered words of encouragement to their respective players as they warmed up for their new positions. They kept it up until the umpire called for ‘Balls In!’ and announced ‘Play Ball!’ once more.

Jayden strode to the plate, swinging his bat to keep his arms warmed up. He watched down the first base line for signals from Coach Harris. Unsurprisingly, it was ‘swing away.’ The first runner’s job is almost always to get on base by whatever means possible. Some teams would try to hit for power; scoring home runs or big hits with every batter, but Coach Harris ascribed to ‘small ball.’ This was the strategy of stacking up lots of smaller plays to score runs. You get a man on base and then you advance him by whatever means it takes; a steal, a hit, a walk. Doesn’t matter. Just keep moving. You don’t have to get everything on one big swing; small, consistent plays would carry the day.

“You got this, Jay!” Sean shouted from the bleachers.

“That’s my boy!” a proud, booming voice declared.

Jayden was ecstatic that his dad had made it to the game.

If the Panthers were hunting goose eggs, they didn’t find any. The first two pitches were on the border. The umpire called one a ball and one a strike. Maybe they were slightly different places or maybe the umpire was inconsistent. Either way, on the third pitch, Jayden took a swing at a sinker that he probably should have let go by him.

It was really weak contact. The crack of wood on leather was soft and hollow. The ball dribbled down the third base line so slowly it was almost comical.

“Did, dig, dig!” Coach Harris shouted as the crowds on both sides cheered encouragement and instructions to their players.

It wasn’t the kind of hit you’d write home about, but Jayden was fast and he legged it out to first faster than the pitcher could get to the ball and throw it. Pretty or not, it went into the score sheet as a hit.

“Nice wheels. Way to dig it out,” Coach Harris said.

Coach Harris gave Jayden a congratulatory smack on the butt and retreated to the first base coach’s box before the umpire could call time again. Once the umpire called time, Coach couldn’t leave his box or touch any of the players. They only had brief moments to celebrate between plays.

Daniel was next, and he strode to the plate with a look of fierce determination. He was a little nervous, but not much. He had practiced for this moment and he felt ready.

“Let’s go, Daniel!” Sean shouted.

“Get a hit, angel!” Lyla cheered.

“Good eye, now, mijo. Pick your pitch!” Esteban shouted.

Jayden led off at first, taking a generous step toward the second base bag. He took a second. As he took a third, the pitcher whirled and threw at the base, but Jayden dived back head first in plenty of time. He stayed down until Coach Harris gave him the all clear and then he stood up, dusted off his pants, and took the same lead again.

The pitcher threw to the plate this time; a straight heater that just barely missed the outside corner.

“Ball one,” the umpire announced in an almost disinterested tone.

The Osprey fans cheered and shouted ‘good eye’ while the Panthers fans booed and assured the umpire that he was blind. Coach Harris shook his head in disgust. He found such behavior distasteful. He had read the parents the riot act about sportsmanship in the stands. If there were any arguments to be made, he would make them, and not one player or fan had better try to do his job for him.

The second pitch was right down the middle, but Daniel was a little late, slicing it foul over the fence on the first base side. A pack of smaller kids went tearing off after the ball to fetch it and bring it back while the umpire pulled a new ball from his pouch and handed it to the Panthers catcher, who threw it back to his pitcher.

“One and one,” the umpire announced.

That was the count; the tally of balls and strikes. The balls were always announced first and the strikes second in such a count.

Daniel looked down the baseline, one foot still outside of the box, getting his signals. He learned what he needed to know. No steal attempt incoming. Swing away.

The third pitch was a fastball inside that was just a little too far inside. Daniel managed to bail out in time, but he had gone to the dirt to do it. The catcher, to his credit, caught the ball and held Jayden at the base with a stare down while Daniel climbed back to his feet.

The crowd gasped as Daniel hit the dirt, but everyone seemed relieved that he had not been hit, even the Panthers fans. Daniel stood outside of the batter’s box, bat tucked between his legs while he brushed the dust off of his pants. He then swatted his hands together to brush the dirt off of his batting gloves before extricating the bat from his legs and going back into his stance.

“Two and one,” the umpire announced.

“You’re okay, Daniel. Pick your pitch!” Esteban yelled.

“You got this bro!” Sean yelled.

Several of the other fans also cheered. Not just Lyla, but also Tammy Wilson and Jayden’s mom and dad, and Noah’s mom. He recognized a lot of the voices cheering. They might not have come out to Lower Woodland Field to support Daniel specifically, but he was on the team. They rooted for him just as his friends and family rooted for the others. Supporting the whole team, not just their own personal player.

Daniel tried to tune out the advice from the crowd and watched Coach Harris. The plan had not changed. Swing away.

The pitcher took his stance and went into his windup. This kid had a tell and it was a bad one. Often you can tell whether a pitch will be a fastball or a breaking ball by the delivery motion. The sinker and the straight fastball are an exception; they have the same delivery motion. Except that this boy always dipped his shoulder if it was a sinker. Trying to give it a little extra movement. Daniel saw it at the moment of release. The boy did not dip the shoulder. That meant that this was a straight fastball with no real movement. And that meant Daniel knew exactly where the ball would be.

Daniel swung hard, rotating through the swing just like he had been taught. He caught the ball on the meat of the bat and made solid contact. There was a satisfying crack of wood as the ball rocketed in the opposite direction. Daniel caught the ball square and it streaked in a straight line, rocketing between the third baseman and the short stop like it was powered by a jet engine.

The ball skidded into the outfield grass and rolled. By the time the Panthers left fielder got to it, Jayden was already heading to third. The throw was late, though, Jayden sliding in such a way that he hit the bag and popped back up to his feet. He was already brushing the dirt from his pants when the ball arrived. Coach Harris waved Daniel through at first. He made it to second easily during the chaos. It was probably an ill-advised throw. The fielder never had a shot at getting Jayden. He might have been able to pick off Daniel, or at least hold him to first. Too late for that, now, though.

Harry was up next. He strode up to the plate, swinging hard and fast in his practice swings. Coach Harris gave him the signal. A familiar one; swing away. Given runners or second third and nobody out, Coach Harris wanted to capitalize and score some runs. Given that the runners could lead off and get a running start, a solid base hit would score two.

The crowd cheered their encouragement. Harry smiled extra wide when he heard Sean’s voice, and his mom’s, but it was his four-year-old sister’s shout that really made his heart swell.

“Hit da ball, bubby!” she shrieked, clapping her chubby hands together like she was applauding.

The first pitch was high and outside. It would have been a ball if he let it go, but that was right where Harry liked it. He could get good leverage in that position, really throwing his weight around. He made good contact, and the ball sailed high.

“Tag up! Tag up!” the Coaches called in unison.

Jayden and Daniel both retreated to their bases, crouching down against their bags like a runner in the starting blocks. If the ball went over the fence, or if it landed safely down, then this wouldn’t matter. But if it was caught, they were ready.

For one breathless moment it looked like it might be a home run, but the Panthers center fielder snagged it at the wall with a truly impressive catch. Worst team in the tournament or not, they weren’t a bad team in general.

The fielder threw the ball back as hard as he could, and the short stop did move up to be the cut off man. But none of that mattered; the second the ball was caught, the coaches shouted “Go! Go! Go!” and it was off to the races.

The cut off man spun and fired home, but he was far too late to catch Jayden, who didn’t even have to slide. Daniel scampered into third, also standing safely without the need to slide.

The crowd went wild and the coaches clapped and cheered.

“That’s the way to do it, boys!” Coach Eriksen shouted.

“An out for a run is a good trade all day every day,” Coach Harris said, clapping Harry on the back as he returned to the dug out.

The other boys clapped him on the back in both consolation and celebration as Harry took off his batting gloves and hanged up his helmet.

“Chin up,” Chris said before hurrying out of the dugout. He was due in the on deck circle, batting next after Clayton.

Tommy moved toward the doorway to the field. He was on deck next after Chris. He patted Harry on the back, too.

“Good job,” Tommy said.

Harry shrugged.

“I was out,” Harry answered, shrugging and shaking his head.

“A sac fly is still an RBI,” Tommy offered.

“A run is a run, dude,” Noah agreed.

Harry smiled. Yeah. He could live with that.

By the time that Tommy took the mound again in the second inning, Osprey was up 3-0, and that took the pressure off like you wouldn’t believe. He was like a whole different player after he relaxed and loosened up. Maybe he didn’t find as many goose eggs as he had hoped, but he did find one. He’d given up some hits and some walks, but when Wyatt Perrino took the mound in relief in the fifth inning, the Panthers still hadn’t scored. Tommy was proud of holding on to that last goose egg, and he had found some new confidence. He knew that he’d have to pitch again tomorrow, and probably against a slightly better team, but he wasn’t scared anymore. He had done it. He had taken the field and proven himself.

Chapter Text

Friday, March 29, 2019

The team’s first game ended in a 9-2 victory and there was plenty to celebrate during the between-games pizza party. Sure, Wyatt had given up two runs in relief, but nobody expected the team to shut out anybody, not even the Panthers. The Panthers might have been the weakest team in the tournament, but they were still a strong team. This was top-level scholastic play, not some recreational league. You didn’t participate in all-city tournaments like this unless you were serious about your program. These nine teams were all good teams.

Talk during dinner eventually turned to their next opponent; their old basketball rivals, the Saints.

“I want to beat them so bad,” Daniel said, clenching his fists.

“Me too,” Chris groaned.

“We will,” Jayden said with certainty.

Some people might mistake this confidence for cockiness. You could certainly make that argument. Jayden was the one taking the mound for this game, and the Saints’ ace would be the one he was facing off against. Most everyone was expecting a hard-fought, close game. A few of the boys were quietly confident. Only Jayden was so bold as to be certain, and that’s why someone might take his confidence for arrogance. But the thing that made Jayden so certain is that this was not his first rodeo. For many of the boys, this was their first real tournament. For others, their first real game. But Jayden had been pitching for years at this point, and had done tournaments in several cities across the country while moving around with his dad. Granted, he was only twelve, but Jayden had been pitching for a third of his life. He and the rest of the team had watched the Saints finishing off their afternoon game against the Huskies, and he wasn’t worried. He knew he could silence their bats.

When the boys returned to the stadium to play, the sun was already down, but the fields of Lower Woodland Field were still brightly lit by the overhead floodlight. Playing under the lights was different than playing in the afternoon sun. There was something deeply thrilling about it. Almost like playing in the big leagues for an imaginative young mind.

Jayden dug the ball into his hip, his slim fingers polishing the ball against the cloth of his pants while Noah cycled through the signs. Jayden knew more pitches than Tommy, so Noah was cycling through quite a few. He threw down the sign for the classic 4-seam fastball, but Jayden shook his head no. Sinker? Nope. Change-up. Nuh-uh. Slider? Nope. Noah signaled for the 2-Seam fastball and tapped his thigh.

“Jam him up? Yeah. Good idea,” Jayden thought.

Jayden was riding a hot hand. Bottom of the fourth inning already and he had himself a basket full of goose eggs so far. Hadn’t dropped a one. No walks. No hits. No hit batsmen. Not one Saint had seen the promised land of first base, much less anything beyond.

The problem was, the Ospreys’ bats had also been fairly silent. The St. Michael’s ace was throwing a good game, too. Perhaps not perfect; the Ospreys had managed some runners, but so far, no runs.

Jamming the batter was a risk. It was basically inviting contact, allowing the batter a good chance to put the ball into play. The trade-off being that such a hit would probably be weak contact; a little slow-roller that would be easily fielded for an out. In short, it meant trusting his defense to play behind him and not try to do everything himself.

It was a risk Jayden was willing to take. He trusted his teammates, and so he nodded his head, coming set. Noah shifted down, preparing to lean over to better block the pitch with his body, just in case it made it past the batter. Always keep the ball in front of you; the goal of any catcher.

Jayden went into his windup, giving it everything he had. The ball came in fairly hot, especially for a 2-Seamer, but the movement wasn’t enough to completely fool the batter. The boy got only part of the barrel onto the ball and it squirted down the left field line, rolling lazily like a bunt. Noah threw his helmet off backwards; it’s easier to see and breathe without it. He hustled after the ball even as the batter became a runner, speeding off towards first. Noah snagged it bare-handed, came set, and launched it down the line. Harry made sure his foot was touching the side of the bag, extended his mitt and slapped it closed around the incoming missile with a satisfying *thwack.*

“Yer OUT!” the umpire bellowed.

This umpire was not quite so ostentatious as the first, but he clearly still had a slight theatrical flair. The first base coach and the runner both protested to the second umpire, closing in from behind second base, but that umpire wasn’t buying what they were selling, either.

Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t know what they’re whining about. Wasn’t even close,” Harry thought.

His foot was on the bag. The throw beat the runner by a good step and a half. It was so obvious even a blind man could see it.

When their protest didn’t work, the Saints gave it up without any further ado. The teams switched out, returning to their dugouts.

“Let’s go, boys,” Coach Eriksen shouted.

“Top of the fifth, fellas. Let’s rattle those bats,” Coach Harris prompted.

Only two more innings left in regulation. An extended battle would be bad for both teams. Both of these pitchers would need to pitch again tomorrow. The Saints were nearing a point where the coaches might have to pull the pitcher just to save his eligibility for tomorrow’s game. Fortunately for the Ospreys, Jayden’s evening had been far more efficient. So far, they had recorded 12 outs on 17 pitches. Total domination, just as he had predicted it would be.

“Let’s go, Ospreys!” Lyla shouted cheerfully.

“Wake up those bats, boys!” Esteban shouted.

“Big stick, Javi! Swing it like you mean it!” Sean shouted.

Javier smiled and nodded at Sean sitting in the stands. Javier was more comfortable batting right-handed, but he was capable of switch hitting. He lined up to bat left handed. This would make things harder on the right-handed pitcher, and also buy him a step closer to first base. Instead of turning to Coach Harris, he watched down the third base line, getting his signals from Coach Eriksen.

Coach Eriksen moved his hand wildly, hiding the actual signs with rubbish, but Javier caught it. A bunt? A bold move, but it might just work. The Saints certainly wouldn’t be expecting it. It wouldn’t be a bad time to try it, but it wasn’t an obvious situation, either.

Javi took some practice swings before stepping into the box. He swung hard, like he was swinging for the fences. Part of the ploy to make the fielders expect he was trying to hit for power. It worked, they all took a step backward to give themselves an extra half-second to field the ball if it came their way. With Javier’s speed it would be important to keep the ball in front of themselves.

That was exactly the opening they had been hoping for.

“Big hit, Javi! We need a home run,” Noah yelled.

Noah could see the sign as well as Javi could. He was just doing his part to sell the bit. The Saints pitcher came ready and hurled it with all of his might. A fastball that tailed off to the right. Javier just watched it go by. If he were on the right, that might have jammed him. From this side, though, that ball was outside when it started and only went farther outside as it went.

“Way to watch!” Javi’s dad shouted.

Javi smiled and nodded at his dad.

“Rally starts here, boys, let’s go, now,” Coach Harris shouted, clapping his hands in a driving manner.

Javier didn’t turn to look; he was busy watching Coach Eriksen for the sign. Bunt again. Javi nodded.

This time the pitch was straight down the middle and right where Javi wanted it. He shifted his hands, putting one hand behind the barrel and another one way up the handle of the bat, both hands in a pinching grip. He tapped the ball down the third base line and spun on his heel, already racing at full speed down the line before either the pitcher or the catcher registered what was happening. After a moment to catch up, both sprinted after the ball, but Javier was like greased lightning. He sprinted straight through the base, veering off into foul territory. The rules allowed for this. A safety measure to prevent players from injuring themselves trying to stop on a dime at the bag. He beat out the throw by a solid two steps.

“Get a hit, baby!” Noah’s mom yelled.

“You got this, keiki!” Noah’s father shouted.

The bleachers were packed to the brim with friends and family of the players. With the tournament being so close to home for everyone, and also held on a weekend, a great many parents that would otherwise be busy with work had jumped at the chance to watch their sons play. Noah’s parents were no exception.

“Big swing, Osito!” Esteban yelled.

The term meant ‘little bear,’ a reference to Sean’s tendency to call the boy ‘teddy bear.’ The name sort of stuck, although Sean usually avoided it in public, since it had the potential to embarrass Noah.

“You got this, big guy!” Sean yelled.

“Rally, guys!” Lyla yelled.

Noah got his sign; a complicated set of instructions that amount to ‘swing away if it is a good pitch, but be ready for Javier to steal.’ Javier took a commanding lead from first, moving three generous steps away.

The pitcher shook off several signs from the catcher and then jumped around to attempt a pick-off at first. Javier was too quick, though. Thanks to the pitcher’s need to turn around before throwing, Javier hadn’t even needed to slide to get back safely.

The first baseman threw the ball back to the pitcher and the dance resumed. Javier led off. The pitcher shook off the signs. He made another unsuccessful pick off attempt.

Noah took a couple practice swings and stepped in as the players reset once again. Coach Harris took advantage of the gap between time being called to whisper into Javier’s ear. Javier nodded his head to indicate he heard and understood the coach and waited to put the plan into action.

Javier took a lead again, this time smaller. He watched like a hawk, waiting… waiting. The pitcher came set. Javier tensed. Wait for it… there! The pitcher rocked his weight onto his back foot, starting his pitching motion and Javier bolted like a rabbit running from a hound.

The first baseman noticed first, screaming a warning.

“HE’S GOING! HE’S GOING!” the boy shouted.

The catcher shifted his weight, getting ready to pop up and attempt a throw. The pitcher was the last to react, but there was nothing he could do. By the time he had processed the warning, he was already hurling the ball. Noah backed out of the way as slowly as he could get away with. The pitcher ducked to give the catcher a throwing lane. The second baseman slid over to receive the catch and the short stop moved behind him to block any potential overthrow. To their credit, the Saints were well coached. They had done everything exactly as you should, but it was all too little, too late. There was a cloud of dust as Javier slid feet first into the base, sliding on his ass across the surface of the dirt until the collision with the bag slowed his momentum. The throw was on target, but not on time.

The umpire behind second threw his arms out wide, waving them horizontally.

“SAFE! SAFE!” the umpired repeated.

The Osprey crowd went wild while the Saints fans yelled words of consolation and encouragement. Javi waited for the ball to go back to the pitcher and for time to be called before climbing to his feet, maintaining at least one point of contact with the base, just in case. He dusted himself off, brushing the dirt out of his pants and then clapping his hands together to rid them of dust, too. It worked okay, but there was still a big brown dirt streak across Javier’s left butt cheek and all the down his thigh. Sliding can really work the dirt into the fibers of your pants.

Javier got ready and led off. He watched the pitcher and his coach at first in turn, trying to keep an eye on both. If he needed to run, he would stop watching the first base coach and watch the third base coach instead. You would always watch the coach that was easiest to see from your current angle.

With the successful steal, the pitcher seemed a bit rattled. He had thrown two failed pickoff attempts and a single pitch to home; a ball, and now there was a runner in scoring position. A fast runner, too. The pitcher removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm before donning the hat again. He pulled the ball from his glove and twirled it anxiously in his hands.

Noah took his sign and nodded. Another steal attempt. His job was to provide cover to Javi, not unlike the play Daniel had made during practice a couple weeks ago.

Javier took his lead as Noah settled in. It wasn’t quite so generous as the lead from first base had been. The pitcher had a better throwing angle and less distance to turn, so the throw would come in quicker. But it was still apparently enough of a lead to make the pitcher a little nervous. He hadn’t thrown the ball to second, yet, but he kept glaring over, checking where Javi was at.

The pitcher came set, and Javi honed in on his feet again, just like Coach Harris had taught. There it was; the thing Javi was watching for. The pitcher turned his toe toward home plate after coming set. By rule, the pitcher was obligated to throw to the plate now. Javier took off toward third base at top speed. It was still a risk, because you had to bank o the umpire having seen the movement and also to call it, but that was always a risk. Despite some disappointments at time, after all umpires are only human, the officials in these games tended to be quite good at the job. Exceptionally good, if they were working a tournament. 

The catcher leapt from his stance and pointed. The infielders all shouted. The pitcher saw Javier going and threw to third base. The throw would have been in plenty of time, save for one thing. The home plate umpire and the umpire behind second both charged toward the play, arms held up in the same position that a basketball referee would use to signal a three pointer or a football referee would use to indicate a field goal; arms straight up.

“THAT’S A BALK!” the umpire announced.

The Saints players looked shocked. The crowd erupted into boos and jeers. The head coach charged the field to argue the call, face red beneath his purple hat.

“I didn’t do anything,” the pitcher whined.

“No way that was a balk,” the coach argued.

“It was a balk, take your base,” the umpire repeated. This last part was addressed at Javier, who sheepishly advanced the rest of the way to third base amidst the chaos of the argument.

“How was that a balk?” the coach challenged.

“He stepped toward the plate,” Javier offered.

“No, I… oh,” the pitcher said. He had just realized that yes, in fact he had. His face turned red beneath his purple hat in a remarkable impression of the coach's face, albeit with embarrassment, not anger.

“You can’t call that a balk at this level,” the coach argued, deftly switching his argument from ‘we didn’t do it’ to ‘okay, we did it, but it doesn’t matter.’

“The boy is absolutely right. Your player came set, started a pitching motion, and didn't deliver the pitch. That’s why I called it,” the umpire said.

“And that’s what I saw, too. Textbook balk,” the second umpire argued.

Coach Harris walked partway toward the argument, but did not get into the middle of it.

“Come on, fellas. Let’s just play ball, okay? Clearly your pitcher realizes his mistake. Let's not ruin the game for our boys. It’s a teachable moment,” Coach Harris said calmly.

The Saints coach, to his credit, recognized the wisdom in that statement. He took a deep breath and agreed. They had both seen enough coaches losing their shit and getting tossed from the game over the years. This one was reasonable enough to take the exit ramp when it was offered. The boys were here to learn about teamwork, fair play, and sportsmanship in addition to baseball.

“Yeah, let’s just play ball,” the Saints coach agreed, albeit begrudgingly.

“Good man. Let’s PLAY BALL,” the umpire bellowed, returning to his position behind the plate.

The Saints crowd grumbled quietly while the Osprey crowd clapped and gave them their dues. A minor altercation. Tempers flare, but no one had t be ejected. That was a plus.

“Good sportsmanship, Saints! Good job,” Esteban shouted, clapping politely.

A few of the other Osprey parents picked up the calls and politely clapped, too, and that seemed to at least somewhat mollify the agitated Saints fans.

The game continued on. Noah’s instructions had changed. He was to bunt; a safety squeeze. The squeeze play was a bunt intended to assist a runner at third in scoring. Similar to a sacrifice fly, a squeeze play aims to trade an out for a run. That’s almost always a good trade. In a six-inning game, there will always be 18 outs for the visiting team. If you score 18 runs, you are having an absolutely ungodly night on offense. As such, runs are much more valuable to the offense than outs are to the defense.

Javier took a short lead at third. He knew what was coming, and he wanted every advantage, but he didn’t want to tip their hand to the pitcher, and he didn’t want to get picked off, either, so his lead was cautious.

Noah took a deep breath and dug in, swinging the bat just as forcefully as he had when his orders were to swing away. Much like, Javier, he didn’t want to tip their hand. This was the mental side of baseball that many people overlook; the game within the game. This invisible aspect to the sport was why it had gained the reputation as being a ‘thinking man’s game.’

The Saints pitcher came set, minding his feet this time. At least he had learned from his mistake. He delivered the ball straight down the middle of the plate. Javier took a few bounding steps toward home as the ball was pitched, but didn’t fully commit yet.

There is a type of squeeze called the suicide squeeze. In that, the runner on third commits to stealing home before the batter bunts. If the batter misses the bunt, the runner is pretty much a sitting duck. This variation, the safety squeeze, means the runner waits for the batter to actually bunt before he runs. The batter still has to do his job, but if he misses, then the runner has time to retake his base. The opportunity cost is that he probably can’t try again.

It all comes down to how much you value the runner at third. In a more dire situation, you might go all in, gambling everything on such a play. But runners had been at a premium tonight, and runs nonexistent, so Coach Harris was being a little more cautious. A runner on third with one out was still a good opportunity, so even if Noah ended up out, Javier was the more important pawn in this situation.

Noah squared up for the bunt and tapped a perfect slow-roller down the first base line. As soon as the ball bounced off the bat, Javier was off to the races. The catcher had to chase down the line to go after it. The pitcher ran from the mound to cover home. It was foot race to home plate. There weren’t a whole lot of boys in the tournament that good beat Javier in a foot race on even terms, and quite a few of them were on his own team. There were even fewer boys who could hope to catch Javi with a head start, and the Saints’ ace pitcher was not one of them.

Javi streaked past home, stomping hard on the plate before the pitcher had a chance to get there. The catcher’s only option was to throw to first. Noah ran as fast as he could, and he almost made it. His speed was pretty good for a boy of his size. If the catcher had hesitated even one more moment, the big boy would have stolen a single from the almost-certain out. But the throw beat him by a fraction of a second; less than a step.

“Yer OUT!” the umpire yelled.

This was the second-base umpire who had slid towards first to watch the action there while the one behind the plate stayed close to the plate in case of a play there.

The Osprey crowd went wild. It was only a single run, but in a game this close, one run might be enough.

“Okay, buddy. You had a good night,” the Saints coach announced, moving onto the field.

The Saints’ pitcher took off his hat and protested.

“Come on, Coach. I’m not even tired,” the boy whined.

The coach chuckled. One aspect that makes you a good ace pitcher; aggressiveness. You don’t want to quit. That’s also why staying in the game isn’t the pitcher’s call. They refuse to admit in when their stuff is gone. This boy’s arm was tired, whether he liked it or not.

“I know, buddy, I know. But we need to give Joey a chance. Have to save you for tomorrow,” the coach said consolingly.

The pitcher wasn’t happy, but he understood the necessity to preserve his pitching eligibility. He took off his glove and trudge to the dugout, his hat in one hand and his glove clutched in the other.

Daniel stared at the ceiling, recalling with relish the rest of the game. Jarrett, Jayden, and Daniel had managed to get on base against the relief pitcher, who was not nearly as dominant as the ace. Harry had then smashed a grand slam to clear the bases. Clayton grounded out, Chris got beaned by a pitch, and then Tommy went down swinging to end the inning. The Ospreys held up on defense during the bottom of the fifth. Nothing of note happened for either team in the sixth, making the final score; 5-0. Only one of those runs counted against the starting pitcher; Javier’s. Jayden completed his full game shutout, although a man did get on base in the fifth, preventing the perfect game.

Still, all of the boys were on cloud nine after the game. Tommy and Jayden had pitched good games. Harry had his big hit. Daniel had done his part, as had Chris and Noah. Each player on the team was a cog in the machine that led to their wins, and they were all super glad about it.

And tomorrow, the adventure would continue with six more games. Tonight, though, it was time to celebrate and then get some rest.

Chapter Text

Friday, March 29, 2019

Some part of Daniel wished that he could have invited the whole team over for a slumber party, but having fourteen guests was a bit of a non-starter, and doubly so on such short notice. It all worked out for the best, though. Jayden, Chris, Noah, Harry, and Javier were staying the night with Daniel at the Diaz house. Tommy, Logan, and Brennan were staying the night with the Perrino twins. Kole, Jarrett, and Clayton were staying at Naresh’s house. All of the boys had to promise not to stay up too late, so they would be well rested tomorrow’s games.

Coach Harris couldn’t officially forbid any slumber parties, but he could bench any players who were sluggish. The boys didn’t want to disappoint him, anyway. Nor did they want to disappoint their fans or each other. So when they promised not to stay up too late, they meant it. Of course, that didn’t mean they couldn’t have some fun first.

The gathered boys didn’t want to be rude, but everyone except for Daniel was a little disappointed that Javier had been invited. Not that they didn’t like Javi, but they didn’t know that Javi was in on the secret sex club fun, so they all thought they wouldn’t get a chance to properly enjoy themselves tonight. It had been a funny scene when they learned otherwise.

The second that the boys retired to Daniel’s room to ‘go to bed,’ the mood turned horny. Except of course, nobody but Daniel knew the fun was about to start.

“Tell ‘em, Javi,” Daniel said.

Javier blushed and shook his head no. He knew right away what Daniel meant, but he didn’t see why he needed to tell four of his teammates that he had sucked Daniel’s dick last weekend, much less that he had done the same for Daniel’s big brother.

“Trust me, Javi. They won’t care. They need to know,” Daniel argued.

Javier blushed still deeper. He sighed. He still didn’t see why Chris, Noah, Jayden, and Harry needed to know, but he did trust Daniel.

“Fine, but you tell ‘em,” Javier said, averting his eyes in shame.

“Javi joined the club last weekend,” Daniel announced.

The four gathered boys’ eyes widened in surprise while Javier found a new shade of crimson to turn. Except then it struck him.

“Club? What club?” Javi asked, wondering aloud.

“No way!” Chris said.

“Awesome,” Harry added.

“Right on, Javi! Welcome,” Noah said.

“Fresh meat!” Jayden said, smirking.

“Wait, wait, wait! You guys all jerk off together?” Javi asked.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted.

“And then some,” Noah said, winking.

“Wait… what else do you do?” Javier asked.

“We’ll get to that later. In the meantime, you need to do the official initiation ritual,” Daniel insisted.

“I thought you said I was in already?” Javier said, confused.

“Yeah, you’re in to do things with me and Sean, but you need witnesses to make it official with the group,” Daniel said, making up the rule on the spot.

“So I just have to suck you again while they watch?” Javi asked.

“No, you just have to suck Sean,” Daniel clarified.

“Oh, um, okay. I’ll try. It was so big, though,” Javi said.

The other five boys giggled knowingly.

“Yeah, but you get used to it,” Harry said.

“You sucked him, too?” Javi asked.

“We told you, Javi. We all did,” Noah said.

“And each other,” Chris added.

“You all swap sucks? Even you, Jayden?” Javi asked in surprise.

“Yeah. Took awhile for Sean’s, but I can deepthroat the whole thing, now. Once I learned to do Daniel’s, it wasn’t that hard to do Sean’s,” Jayden confirmed.

“Whoa,” Javier said in awe.

He had no idea his teammates did such things. He knew that they had a lot of sleepovers, of course, but he didn’t know that this is what they got up to at them.

“We should all get naked,” Daniel suggested.

No one seemed to have a problem with that. They all took off their clothes and threw them into one big pile; a veritable mountain of tween undies, shorts, and t-shirts.

“Whoa, nice one. Perfect hole stretcher,” Noah said, upon first seeing Javier’s boner.

“Thanks,” Javi said, not realizing Noah was stalking about his own hole, and not some random girl’s.

Like the other boys, Noah had seen Javier and all of his other teammates naked in the locker rooms and showers, but this was the first time seeing him erect. For everyone except Daniel, that is.

“Yeah, good size for sucking,” Harry admitted.

“I can’t believe you all do it, too,” Javier said, smiling.

“Yeah, we do,” Chris confirmed.

“We have so much fun together,” Daniel said, smiling. “I knew as soon as we started talking last weekend that you’d want in on this, too.”

Javier laughed and smiled. He couldn’t help but nod his head.

“Yeah, it’s kind of wild, but I’m up for it,” Javier admitted.

“You’re going to love this, Javi,” Jayden assured him.

“I know I do,” Noah said, smiling.

“He’s super good at it, too,” Daniel revealed.

“My favorite bottom,” Jayden said, smirking at the memories.

“Whoa, wait a minute… Bottom? You mean you guys do anal?” Javi asked.

“Totally,” Noah admitted.

“Sometimes,” Jayden said.

“Jayden is mostly a top, but he’ll bottom sometimes. Noah and Harry are pretty strictly bottoms. Chris and I will go either way, but I lean bottom and Chris leans top,” Daniel explained.

“Whoa,” Javier said, even more blown away by this revelation than the one about oral.

Perhaps the most surprising information was the two boys who were strictly bottoms were Noah, the big boy, and Harry, the brawny boy. It seemed so weird to Javier that the most physically intimidating boys would be the ones that liked to take it.

“You don’t have to do anal if you don’t want, but if you want to take Sean’s, you’ll need some special stretching,” Daniel said.

“Holy shit. Sean’s?” Javier asked, remembering back to Sean’s massive member. How anyone could take Sean’s gargantuan cock up their ass, Javier couldn’t imagine.

“Yeah. We’ve all done it,” Daniel said.

Javier’s eyes went wide.

“All of you?” Javier asked.

“All of us,” the boys answered in unison.

“Hot,” Javier admitted.

He wasn’t sure that he wanted to bottom, at least not for anal, but he didn’t mind sucking a dick, and if the other boys wanted him to do some sort of show to gain official entry in the sex club, the tradeoff seemed worth it. He had enjoyed sucking Sean and the access to the other willing boys seemed like it would be more than worth it.

“So what do you say? Should I go get Sean?” Daniel asked eagerly.

Javier laughed. Daniel seemed almost more eager to get Sean’s cock sucked than his own. He wondered how that sort of relationship had developed. What must they have gone through together to form that sort of bond?

“Yeah, sure, let’s do this,” Javi agreed.

Sean was more than a little pleased to hear the knock at his door. He always tried to give Daniel and his friends some space and privacy. He was more than happy to show them a good time or even just hang out if they asked for it, but he didn’t want to be creepy or overbearing by hanging around when or where he wasn’t wanted. In fairness, he was usually wanted, anyway.

His only surprise when answering the door was that it was Chris, not Daniel, that had come to get him.

“Hey, there, kit. You guys okay?” Sean asked, ushering the blond boy into the room.

“Yeah, but we need you,” Chris whispered.

They both kept their voices low. Esteban had already gone to bed and they didn’t want to wake him. Even if they were not afraid of being caught in the act, they didn’t want to disturb Esteban’s sleep or be accused of breaking their promise to their coach.

“Okay, I’m coming. What do you need?” Sean asked.

“Mostly this,” Chris said, grinning impishly as his hand rubbed the bulge in Sean’s boxers.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Sean admitted.

Sean leaned his head down and gave Chris a kiss, which the blond eagerly returned, his hand finding Sean’s nape in a mirror of Sean’s own signature move.

“You’re easier to kiss since your growth spurt,” Sean teased.

Chris grinned at the compliment. He was proud of his new height, only a few inches shorter than Sean these days, the boy was growing into a regular bean pole. Sean no longer had to stoop down and Chris no longer had to lean up onto his tiptoes when the two made out. And Sean had to admit that all that working out for baseball was doing incredible things to Chris’s ass. To all of his boys’ butts, really. Getting more toned, more firm, more ripe for the plucking.

“Yeah. It’s nice,” Chris agreed.

“Let’s go, then. My boys await.” Sean teased.

Chris smiled at him and stole one more quick little kiss. Sean’s hand brushed over the thin cotton material of Chris’s briefs’ they were all he was wearing. Still Power Bear underoos. Sean couldn’t have imagined wearing such things in middle school, but then he also couldn’t imagine have regular orgies when he was in middle school, so maybe the world had just changed a lot in the last six years.

“Let’s hurry. They get impatient,” Chris teased.

Sean chuckled. He knew that to be true. Daniel and Noah, especially.

The two of them made the very short journey across the hall to Daniel’s room. Sean wasn’t exactly surprised that the boys were all naked. Daniel’s slumber parties tended to include plenty of nudity. The little hornball loved his fun, and Sean loved it, too, to be fair.

Sean moved to the appointed position, easily discerned by the five naked and erect boys kneeling in a half-circle waiting for him around the expected spot. Chris slipped off his undies and tossed them back in the pile before joining the others in the semicircle, taking his spot between Daniel and Noah. It took Sean a moment to realize they had lined up in the order that they had joined the club. Javier, as the newest boy, was all the way to the right. Last in line, so to speak.

“Looks like my boys have a special treat for me,” Sean said, smiling.

“Yeah. We wanted to do an initiation ritual for Javi with the whole group,” Daniel explained.

‘We’ was perhaps not entirely accurate; the whole thing had been his idea, but at the slumber parties, nobody much argued with Daniel’s ideas. Daniel’s ideas always led to a lot of fun.

Sean saw Javi, knelt down, naked, arms behind his head like the others, armpits on display. Unlike the others, Javier’s armpits were properly hairy. Jayden had quite a few short, curly hairs there, and Chris had a few wispy ones coming in, But Noah, Harry, and Daniel were still mostly hairless, just a little light fuzz that would soon sprout into hairs. Javi, though, had a practical jungle under there, as thick and full as the bush spreading across his groin and legs. Sean liked this, too. He loved all of his boys and everything about their beautiful bodies, no matter how they changed.

“I see you’ve taught him the position already. What a thoughtful gift,” Sean said, smiling.

Sean walked over to Daniel, all the way down on the left end. He smiled across the semicircle, admiring his harem of now six eager boys looking up at him.

“You see, Javi. In our little club, everyone does their part,” Sean said.

Daniel smiled eagerly and rushed to do his part of the ritual, taking Sean down to the root in one slow, easy motion and then resting there, nose in Sean’s bush, sniffing.

“Good boy, cub,” Sean said, patting Daniel on the head.

Daniel recognized this as his cue and reluctantly released Sean’s cock from his mouth. Sean slipped down to the next boy, Chris.

“I love teaching my boys,” Sean said.

Chris leaned in and, like Daniel, sucked Sean all the way into his mouth.

“Good boy, kit,” Sean said, patting the blond on the head.

Chris moaned softly in response before releasing Sean’s cock. Sean moved down to the next boy, Noah. Noah took his turn, going all the way down to the root with gusto.

“Of course, some boys are more eager than others. Noah is a very eager boy,” Sean said.

Noah groaned softly in response to show just how eager he was.

“Good boy, teddy bear. Very nice,” Sean said, patting the Hawaiian boy on the top of his head.

Noah reluctantly released the cock from his mouth and then kissed it goodbye; a sweet little peck on the tip. Sean smiled and snorted softly through his nose. Noah really did just absolutely love cocks.

Sean moved down to the next boy in line, Jayden. Jayden dutifully swallow the whole thing, thought it obviously took more effort than it did for the other boys.

“It didn’t come as easily to Jayden, but he proves that anything is possible if you work hard enough,” Sean noted.

Sean ran his hand along Jayden’s forehead, pushing the thick curls out of his eyes.

“Good boy, J-Dawg,” Sean said.

Jayden’s bright blue eyes sparkled at the compliment. Jayden released it and Sean moved down to Harry.

“Harry had a different sort of struggle. He had to work to accept himself and what he wanted,” Sean explained.

Harry took Sean down to the root, humming and moaning in satisfaction once he completed his one-way bob of the head. Sean groaned in answer and ran his hand lovingly through Harry’s hair.

“Good boy, duck,” Sean said, stroking the back of Harry’s head with loving little scritches.

Harry released Sean’s dick, just as reluctant to end the fun as Daniel and Noah had been.

“And that brings us to you, Javi,” Sean said, walking over.

Javier smiled up, eyes twinkling. This all felt so heady, so arousing. The cult-like ritual made him feel included in something in a way that nothing else had before.

“If you still want to, we can teach you how to go all the way down, just like the other boys,” Sean said, looking down at Javi on his knees. “Do you want that?”

Javier smiled eagerly and nodded his head.

“Speak up for me, Javi,” Sean said.

“Yes, Sean. I do,” Javier admitted.

“Good, good. Now, when we play our games, sometimes the other boys like to call me sir. Would you like that, too, Javi?” Sean asked.

Javier gulped, looked over at the other boys, all smiling and watching him with bated breath. They had explained to him that Sean liked to be called ‘sir’ when they played their sex games. Javier was game for it; he nodded and smiled again. After half a moment, he realized he was supposed to say it out loud.

“Y-yes, sir,” Javi said.

“That’s a good boy, Javi. I knew you were a team player,” Sean said, cupping Javier’s cheek in his hand.

Javier gulped and Sean could see it on his face; something had clicked into place. Javier was realizing the fun of being submissive to the older more dominant male, of not just joining with the group, but of knowing your role and accepting it.

“Now, when you are able to fully take my cock all the way down your throat, we will have a special party just for you. In the meantime, all of the other boys swallowed as part of their initiation ceremony. Do you want to be like the other boys, Javi? Do you want to be a good boy and swallow for me?” Sean asked sweetly before reminding him “You don’t have to. Only if you want to.”

Javier’s eyes sparkled with a hint of trepidation and a whole lot of something akin to hunger. He nodded slowly, smiling up at Sean. His body trembled slightly with excitement and his narrow, tapered cock gave a lurch that made it sway mightily in the air. He had never swallowed before, but he was curious. The salty flavor when he sucked his brothers ranged from sweet to bitter, but he didn’t think the pre was that bad. He couldn’t imagine the actual cum would be that bad, but he was sort of eager to find out. Worst case scenario, he could spit it out.

“Yes, sir. I want to,” Javier admitted.

“Good boy, Javi. Tell me, kiddo. What is your favorite animal?” Sean asked.

Javier shrugged his shoulders.

“My brothers call me jackrabbit, ‘cause I run fast and my nose twitches when I’m nervous,” Javier said.

Sean smiled, nodding along. Javier was indeed fast on his feet, and ran with long, bounding strides that reminded Sean of a jackrabbit. He could see where they got that nickname. And although he hadn’t noticed it before, he was having trouble seeing anything else, now. Javier’s nose did indeed twitch in such a cute way; tiny little jerks like it was vibrating. It was doing it now, actually, trembling even faster than the rest of the boy.

That name would do.

“Then you will be my bunny rabbit. Do you like that name, bunny?” Sean asked.

Javier smiled and nodded. His brothers meant the name as a joke, half-teasing, half compliment. He could tell that Sean meant it differently, though. No joke, just gentle affection.

“Yes, sir. I want to be your bunny,” Javier answered.

“Good boy, bunny. Now, go on and enjoy your carrot. But watch those teeth,” Sean said with a wink.

Javier smiled and nodded, eyeing Sean’s enormous cock with greed and awe.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Javier answered.

Javier leaned in and took Sean’s cock into his mouth. He closed his eyes and bobbed up and down on as much as he could. Maybe five inches. His brothers never made him go all the way down. The were close enough to bottoming out at the point his throat blocked their cocks that Javi could just stretch his lips and it felt like their whole dicks were in his mouth, anyway, or so they thought. They never knew how wonderfully tight a throat can squeeze a cock; like a warm, wet vise. Like it was trying to swallow you whole and thank god your dick was attached or else it would be gone forever, lost in that living abyss.

As Javi suckled at the big Latino cock of the older boy, the lessons began, and Sean was not his only teacher.

“Don’t forget to relax the jaw,” Noah offered.

“And cup his balls. He likes that,” Daniel added.

“Don’t forget the tongue,” Chris suggested.

“Look in his eyes, he likes eye contact,” Harry added.

“Don’t choke yourself. When he gets to the back of your throat, just stop. You can work at it later,” Jayden suggested. Of all the boys, he had had the most trouble learning to deep throat.

Javier nodded, cock still in his mouth, as he tried to keep this all in mind and incorporate it into the routine. He closed his eyes and moaned softly, sucking at the tip with loud, sloppy sounds and soft, needy moans. He was far less hesitant than he was the first time. The unconditional acceptance from the group emboldened him, freed him from his inhibitions. He was not worrying about how gay he looked or trying to pretend to be macho. For the first time in his life, he was allowing himself to just enjoy giving head and he found that he quite liked the feeling.

“You’re doing so well for me, bunny,” Sean cooed, running his fingers through Javi’s dark hair.

Javi’s hair was parted at the left side, rolling over his head in a soft swoop, with the back and the sides shaved. Sean swapped between rubbing the fuzz on the shaved part beneath his thumb and carding his long fingers through the swoosh. Javi seemed to be enjoying both, moaning softly every time Sean performed either action.

The blow job had gone on for quite a few minutes at this point, and the longer it went on, the more both Sean and Javi seemed to be enjoying it. As Sean’s breathing started to pick, a self-satisfied twinkle began to form in Javi’s eyes when he looked up at Sean, lips stretched obscenely around the teenager’s long, thick cock. He increased the pace of his head-bobbing and hand-stroking alike, jerking the remainder of the shaft and fondling the balls with equal gusto.

Javi knew he was getting Sean close. He knew all the tell-tale signs from doing this to his brothers, and from watching Daniel finish him off last week. Unlike with his brothers, though, Javi didn’t look at this as a chore he had to do, he was enjoying it, and so he felt a sense of pride that he never felt when he blew his big brothers. He found that he quite liked that heady feeling, too.

“Getting close, bunny. You still want to swallow for me?” Sean asked, brushing the long bangs out of Javier’s eyes and across the top of his head to join the rest of the swoosh.

Javier’s eyes twinkled and he nodded, never slowing his sucking. He closed his eyes and moaned around Sean’s cock.

“When he cums, pull out to the end to give yourself space,” Daniel instructed.

“And swallow fast. Really chug,” Noah instructed.

“And if you spill some, don’t worry, you can always lick it back up after,” Harry offered helpfully.

Javier sighed in pleasure, eyes still closed and nodded in acknowledgment of the advice. He could do all that. He slurped at the shaft still faster, tongue working overtime as Sean’s breathing started toward critical mass.

“Here it comes, bunny,” Sean warned one last time.

The other five boys waited with bated breath. When Sean pulled Javi’s head back enough to look into his eyes again and then grunted, the other boys cheered softly and started chanting, low and soft.

“Chug, chug, chug!” and “One of us! One of us!”

They had a glorious time watching Javier swallow his first load. His small Adam’s apple bobbed with the effort, and although there was far too much to swallow, and it poured out of his lips and down his chin, nobody gave him any shit about it. He latched onto the tip, suckling like a baby calf until the torrent stopped and then went in search of the parts he missed, lapping it all up until there was no more mess to clean.

The taste was surprising to Javi. Sean’s flavor was very reminiscent of Jose’s, but of course stronger, because there was so much more of it, not just the tiny amounts that leaked out before his big brother orgasmed. It was also saltier, but less bitter, a subtle but noticeable difference in flavor that took Javi by surprise. Jose’s pre was more bitter than Jorge’s, and so he figured it just got more and more bitter as you aged. It was a not-entirely-incorrect assumption. It is true within an individual, but Javi did not realize there was also variance from person to person.

Sean tilted his head and gazed down at Javi, making eye contact ad Javier’s tongue finished bathing him and he looked up again, seeking approval. Sean panted, catching his breath, allowing his wilting, spit-slick cock to just hang in the air between him and the kneeling boy.

“You did such a good job, bunny. You swallowed like a champ,” Sean assured him.

“Thank you, sir,” Javier panted, a grin breaking out from ear to ear.

“No, thank you, Javi. That felt really nice,” Sean said.

Javi smiled up at Harry as all the other boys rushed to pat him on the back, congratulating him on doing so well and welcoming him to his full member status in the sex club.

“I’m going to let these other guys return the favor this time, so everyone gets a turn,” Sean said.

Javier nodded. He didn’t feel hard-done-by. There was no shortage of eager partners waiting on him.

“You boys have fun, but don’t stay up too late,” Sean warned.

The boys nodded eagerly, muttering agreement and promises without objection. Sean picked up the pile of clothes and dumped them into Daniel’s hamper. He picked up the whole thing and moved toward the door.

“I’ll have these washed and dried for you in the morning,” Sean promised.

“Thanks, Sean,” Daniel said, smiling.

His big brother took such good care of him and his friends. It felt really awesome.

“No problem, cub. Don’t forget. Big day tomorrow. Six games. So don’t wear yourselves out. Just one round each,” Sean said.

The boys all nodded their agreement, smiles on their faces.

“Promise, Sean. Thanks. Good night,” Daniel said.

Daniel gave Sean a good night kiss and the other boys filed through to get one, too. Javi went last and Sean could taste his own salty flavor on Javi’s lips.

“Good night, boys,” Sean said.

Sean ducked out of the room, a smile on his face. Behind him, he could hear the boys dividing off into pairs to swap sucks. Daniel and Chris, Jayden and Harry, Noah and Javi. He envied them the good time they would have, but he was grateful that they had shared some of that fun with him. A joyful offering from a good, dutiful, and loyal tribe of eager young things.

Sean carried the laundry down the steps. He sniffed each pair of undies as he dumped it into the machine; fragrant and ripe with the scent of the sweaty boy who wore them. His boys. His club. His harem. And what a wonderful pack they were.