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Someone else was pitching for the day, and Dallas was actually a little relieved for the break. The more he pitched, sometimes, the more anxious he got about if he was going to throw the right ball, if he was going to use enough force, if he was going to trip up while pitching. Maybe Malek would call a ball for him and he would get the signal confused with something else. He loved baseball, but sometimes he needed a break.
Someone else was batting for the day, as usual, and Jonas Parker was stuck on the bench. He hugged his knees to his chest, watching Basinger bat, curling his hands as if he had a bat in hand and mimicking swings.
Dallas looked over at him, watched Parker make a small swing with an accompanying sound effect. He smiled. It was really cute, how much Parker really liked baseball.
It was just like how, earlier, Parker had been going through some of his collection of baseball cards, showing them to Dallas at lunch. He would hand a card to Dallas and immediately go off about their batting average, or the teams they had been on, if they had been in Major League and if they hadn’t; if they hadn’t, why they should have been. He got very adamant about some of them, and Dallas nodded along wholeheartedly.
After some time, Parker had suddenly stopped and sit back in his chair, going quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Dallas had questioned him. He was starting to get really interested; Parker had just mentioned pitchers.
“This is probably boring you…” Parker mumbled. “I mean… everyone always tells me I talk too much, and I know it, but I just… baseball is so cool, you know?” He looked up at Dallas nervously, probably expecting him to shoot him down like everyone else had, but Dallas grinned.
“Baseball is the coolest. You can absolutely talk to me about it always, okay, Parker?”
The blonde boy grinned, showing a mouth full of braces, and his cheeks flushed with happiness. The rest of lunch period was spent in fervent conversation, and Dallas even left with one of Parker’s favorite cards, as a gift.
He pulled it out now, looking it over. It was a Tony Gwynn baseball card, a famous right fielder, a man of color. He was incredibly flattered that Parker had given it to him. Parker never gave his cards out to anyone. Not Ben, or Phoebus, Blake or Ty. Nobody but Dallas. His cheeks turned red and he smiled down at the card.
“He was awesome,” Parker said, startling Dallas only a little. “I saw him play once, when I was little.”
“That’s awesome, Park,” Dallas told him, and Parker grinned for a second before his smile fell.
“I cried a lot when he died…” Parker looked down at his knees, a tear threatening to drip out of his eye.
“Hey, hey,” Dallas tried to say gently, putting his arm around Parker. “I’m sure he’s up somewhere, you know, playing baseball in a good place.”
Dallas didn’t believe in that sort of thing, and he wasn’t sure if Parker did, but Parker smiled all the same. The tears still rolled down his cheeks, but went around the wideness of his smile to drip off his chin. Dallas set his glove aside and wiped Parker’s tears away with his thumb.
“There. All better,” Dallas said with a smile. He kept his hand on Parker’s face, gently brushing his cheek.
Parker started to slowly turn red and his smile shook a little.
“Um, Dallas…?”
Dallas blinked. “Yeah, man?”
Silence, for a moment, as Parker stretched his legs out and turned his whole body to face Dallas. Before Dallas could blink, Parker leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
It was a shaky, anxious kiss, and he pulled back almost immediately, looking away.
Dallas was breathless.
“Um… so I … know I said something about it earlier, but, yeah, I... “ Parker shrugged nervously, picking at his cuticles.
Said something earlier…? Dallas thought back to lunch; all Parker had done was talk about baseball and give him the card.
The card! That had to be it. That was Parker’s confession, giving away something that meant the world to him.
Dallas smiled softly and ruffled Parker’s hair. What an unbelievably pure angel, he thought. He pulled Parker into a hug.
“Me too, Parker. Me, too.”