Work Text:
Tonight, I'm gonna give you all my love in the back seat
Bubble pop electric, Bubble pop electric
Gonna speed it down and slow it up in the back seat
Bubble pop electric
Uh-oh, in the back seat
~*~
They won.
He hit his first homer of the year.
And they won.
Not necessarily by his doing—it was a team effort, of course—but the thought of hitting the homer and winning the game was good. They were finally starting to win—making a bit of an early come back, if you will.
They should be celebrating.
Why aren’t they celebrating?
Drew makes his way through the visiting teams locker room, reaching down and pulling on his gym shorts and taking note of his surroundings. Most of his teammates have already made their way back to the hotel, ready to get some rest for their next game against the Nationals.
He has a good feeling about tomorrow.
But tonight...
His eyes fall on Matt Chapman, watching as the man walks through the locker room a few yards away in nothing but a towel, hiking the fabric higher against his hips. Drew’s throat goes dry at the sight.
Why hadn’t they celebrated?
“Hey, we’re headed out. You ridin’ with?” someone calls out, startling him from his stare, a red hot flush rising to his cheeks.
“Uh, nah, man. It’s cool,” Drew calls back as he turns to face the voice, which had come from Ramos. The man stands at the exit of the locker room, a few of their other teammates passing by, presumably to join Ramos on the journey back to their hotel. “Not ready yet.”
“Alright,” Ramos responds with a nod and a wave and then he’s out the door.
Drew turns away, eyes glancing back to where Matt had been, watching as the third baseman grabs a few bottles from a locker in front of him then heads back towards the showers.
Knowing that it takes the man a bit to shower, Drew decides between waiting for him to finish or just going. He so badly wants to wait but Matt hasn’t given him any reason to. The man had opted to rent a vehicle to be able to do what he wants when he wants without any hindrance during their stay and he hasn’t offered a ride to Drew, so he doesn’t want to be too forward in asking.
He wants to talk to the man so badly though.
Just being in his presence sets the younger on edge—in a good way. It’s like his brain goes fuzzy and his nerves feel alight and he just can’t control the way he goes absolutely feral sometimes.
He loves the feeling.
Sighing, Drew decides to just grab his things and go. He doesn’t want to be a bother.
Pulling on a tee and his shoes, he begins to slowly make his way out of the locker room, trudging his way towards the parking garage as he pulls out his phone and tries to decide whether he should use Lyft or Uber.
As he walks—face stuck in his phone as he tries to figure out what’ll be the cheapest option for the night—he makes his way out into the parking garage where quickly notices three things.
One—it’s quiet. Eerily quiet.
Two—there’s only one car left. Somehow—out of every person one might think would be lingering around the stadium, whether it be a janitor or worker or even players—there seems to be only one person with a sure ride home left.
And three—judging by the car, that person is Matt Chapman.
The knowledge that he and Matt were seemingly two of—if not the—last people here was... interesting. It got him thinking.
What if he happened to linger just a bit. Maybe wait a bit longer before calling a late night ride back to the hotel. Catch Matt, feign stranded via rideshare cancellation, and get a moment to talk with the man?
Drew’s lips quirk slightly. It’s almost too perfect.
He slowly makes his way towards Matt’s rental—a flashy, sleek rover, of course—and sets his bag down, leaning against the rear taillight nearest the driver’s side.
Now, he waits.
He bides his time messing with his phone, switching between liking posts and scrolling through reels on Instagram.
Not too long later, maybe about fifteen minutes, the sound of the heavy door to the stadium swishes open against the concrete of the parking garage floor, the swishing continuing as the door closes with a loud lock of finality.
He looks up to watch as Matt makes his way towards him, head also in his phone, nearly reaching the car before he looks up. He surely wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting for him though, if his slight jump and curse are anything to go by.
“Matty,” Drew drawls at the reaction, smile spreading across his face.
“Jesus, Drew, what’re you doing here?”
“Was waiting for my Uber but the rider canceled. Gotta get a new one. Saw you were here though, decided to wait a sec. Say hi.”
“Like we haven’t been around each other all day.”
“Come on, Matthew, that’s different.”
Matt quirks an eyebrow at him as he clicks a button on the rentals key fob, opening the trunk and throwing his bag in. He quickly shuts the trunk then moves to stand in front of the younger man. Drew’s nerves start to go off, throat becoming dry and the hair on the back of his neck standing up just from being close to the man, alone, one on one.
“How so?” Matt asks, crossing his arms as he waits for an answer.
Drew shrugs meekly. “I don’t know. We didn’t get to talk.”
“We sat next to each other at lunch.”
Drew’s cheeks flush lightly at the point. “We were eating.”
Matt huffs out a laugh. “No, we all ate. You ran your mouth the entire time.”
Drew’s flush grows deeper. Matt’s eyes sparkle playfully.
“I got a lot to say man.”
“When do you not,” Matt teases, shifting his stance. “So what’re you still doing here then?”
Drew swallows thickly. “Just... sayin’ hi.”
Matt’s eyes narrow. “That all?”
It grows silent for a moment.
Drew huffs, frustration taking hold. “We should be out celebrating, man!”
“Celebrating what?”
“Our win!”
“We did. In the dugout.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean, Drew?”
Drew groans. “I mean like going out!”
Matt laughs. “Dude, we’ve only won the first game. We still have two more. We don’t have time or reason yet to celebrate like that.”
“But I hit a homer!”
“Like you haven’t before?”
“My first of the season! And we didn’t celebrate!”
“Dude, we congratulated you in the dugout.”
They’re at an impasse. Matt isn’t understanding him and Drew just doesn’t know how to put it into words.
“I just... I don’t know, man. I was excited.”
“You’re always excited,” Matt starts, and then his eyes narrow again, and lips part slightly. “Oh, I see.”
Drew cocks his head slightly. Did he finally get it? The thing Drew was too embarrassed to admit but wanted Matt to realize so badly?
“It’s not that we didn’t celebrate,” Matt starts, taking a step towards Drew, and the younger’s breathing stalls as he gets closer. “It’s that we didn’t celebrate, huh?”
Though it’s exactly what he wanted, Drew flounders.
“I mean—I, um—it’s like, uh...” he doesn’t know. Now that it’s out there he doesn’t know what to do.
Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to.
“Hmmm,” Matt responds, then to Drew’s astonishment, begins to lift his arm.
Drew falls still, breath catching as Matt’s hand becomes level with his throat, fingers tracing a burning trail against his neck. “No, has nothing to do with that, does it?”
The sarcasm is dripping off his tongue, voice dropping as his eyes hone in on his fingers at Drew’s throat, knowing exactly what the boy wants.
“I—” Drew starts, voice high and catching immediately.
Matt takes another step closer, fingers wrapping slowly but firmly against the younger’s throat, enough to feel the way the muscles work against his palm as Drew inhales shakily.
The air between them is thick and tense, the spark between them bright and alive.
Drew watches as Matt’s eyes fall to the hand he has placed against his throat, the man’s fingers flexing against the pulse point fluttering in Drew’s neck, causing him to gasp at the sensation. He continues to watch as Matt swallows thickly, jaw clenching.
“God,” Matt starts in a low voice, head shaking slightly. “Love the way my hand looks wrapped around your throat.”
The words shoot straight to Drew’s cock and his stomach drops as Matt crowds him against the side of the rental, using the hand at Drew’s throat to push him back as he wedges a knee between his thighs, the feeling of Matt’s rough jeans through his flimsy gym shorts immense.
“Can’t believe you’re already hard,” Matt starts, the perpetual flush at Drew’s cheeks teetering between aroused and embarrassed at his words. “Or have you been hard since the locker room?” When Drew looks at him confused, Matt chuckles and continues. “You think I didn’t notice you watching me?”
The flush at Drew’s cheeks turns to embarrassment.
“I—I wasn’t—”
“Oh, come on, Drew,” Matt coos, flexing his hand against Drew’s throat. “You weren’t that subtle about it.”
He doesn’t know how to respond.
So instead, he whines.
The sound has an effect on Matt, the man’s gaze dropping to Drew’s lips, eyes darkening by the second.
“You wanna do this?”
His implication can’t be missed. Drew nods enthusiastically.
“Please.”
By the way Matt’s fingers flex against his throat, Drew concludes the man must’ve been affected by that as well.
Matt pulls back quickly, hand at Drew’s throat sliding down the grasp the collar of his shirt as he unlocks the car.
“This is a rental, Drew. Don’t make a mess.” He heads for the driver’s side back seat, pulling Drew by the collar with him and opening the door quickly. “Got it?”
Drew nods. “Got it.”
Matt smirks, hand trailing back up Drew’s neck, resuming its previous grip.
“Good.”
And then he’s pushing Drew into the backseat by his throat.
Drew falls back, scooting back as much as he can with Matt’s hand still attached to his throat. It takes a bit for the two to get situated but soon they’re settled down in the backseat of the rental, doors closed and locked, Drew on his back with Matt hovering over him. He’s straddling Drew, one leg between his thighs and the other angled down towards the floor, helping to keep him upright.
Matt leans over him, distributing his weight between pressing his thigh firmly against Drew’s dick, fingers tightening lightly against his throat.
Drew gasps at the feeling and Matt smirks, leaning closer, his unoccupied hand moving to grab Drew’s hip and pull him in an intense grind.
“Fuck, Matt.”
The man’s face is close enough now that the light huff of his laugh blows across Drew’s lips, sending a shiver down his spine.
“Come on, Drew,” the older taunts, starting a rhythmic motion between the two. “Thought we were celebrating?”
“Fuck, yeah, ‘course—” Drew cuts himself off with a gasp, hips canting upwards in a buck that has Matt pinning his hip back down against the seat.
“Ain’t a rodeo, man, jeez.”
The crimson in Drew’s cheeks darken once more, voice strained. “Shit, sorry.”
Matt chuckles. “Want you to move. Don’t want you to throw me off.”
With that Matt shifts, pushing forward into Drew in a way that has him whining again, the pressure between their clothed cocks sending a shiver through Matt, who clenches his fingers against the sides of Drew’s neck, drawing out his whine.
“Fuck, Drew,” Matt grunts, hips grinding down harder against Drew as his forehead falls to rest against the youngers temple. “You make the prettiest little noises, you know that?” He pants against the youngers ear, hips start to gain speed. “Just like a girl.”
The comparison evokes a moan from Drew, a high pitched noise that rings out loudly in the closed car. The words go straight to his dick, wetting the front of his gym shorts with precum.
Matt hums at the reaction, pulling back to gaze down at the outfielder, whose expression is already blissed out in their short time together.
“Look at you, with your long, soft hair, and your pretty blue eyes, and those lips... fuck, Drew. Bet you can suck cock better than any other girl around.”
Drew’s whines only sharpen, his hips grinding harder against Matt.
“Shit,” the word falls broken from between Drew’s lips and Matt smiles down at him, thumb releasing its hold to rest against the younger’s chin, pulling slightly to further open his already parted lips, Matt staring down at Drew’s mouth with a heated gaze.
“One day, Drew. But not today,” Matt huffs at the disappointed noise Drew cuts him off with. “Can’t make a mess in this car, remember? S’not mine. You got that?”
Drew nods. “Uh huh.”
“What’s that?” Matt retorts, thumb falling back to assist in squeezing against Drew’s throat once more.
“Mmmm can’t make a mess,” Drew starts, eyes screwing shut and hips starting to lose their rhythm. “Won’t make a mess.”
Matt grins wickedly at his correction, his voice low as he responds.
“Good girl.”
Drew’s hips stutter against Matt and the man’s grip on his hip tightens, beginning to push and pull the younger more quickly against him.
“Come on, Drew. You gotta be close, yeah? I know you’re close.”
Drew responds with a tight “Mmhm.”
“I want you to cum without me laying a hand on your dick, alright? Can you do that?”
“Ye—yeah.”
“Good girl.”
It’s like a magic phrase. Saying it gets Drew whining, hips grinding harshly against the other. Matt has scoot back a bit, adjusting so that the length of his thigh is up against Drew’s cock in full, tensing as Drew grinds down against him.
He wants Drew to come first. Needs Drew to come first.
“You like that, don’t you? Being called a good girl?” Drew’s hips start to stutter erratically and Matt knows he’s close. His fingers flex against Drew’s throat and squeeze on either side, the younger’s pulse hammering against his fingertips. “Because you are,” he whispers down to Drew. “My good girl.”
And Drew’s done for.
His head is swimming. Matt’s words—the grip on his throat and grinding of his hips—all of it forms a barrier between Drew’s thoughts and actions, rendering him useless. All he knows now is that he has to be good for Matt.
And he wants to be good so badly.
His hips still against Matt’s thigh, moan ringing out once more loudly throughout the car as he cums in his gym shorts.
“Fuck,” Matt grits, watching as the front of Drew’s shorts darken.
His eyes flick back up to Drew’s face, taking in his blissed out expression, and watches as his eyes open, pupils unfocused and blown as they settle as well as they can on Matt.
“Did I do good?” Drew asks in a small voice through pants and the question stirs something dark in Matt.
“Fuck, Drew,” Matt shifts, lifting up on his knees to hover over Drew, letting go of him to reach down and undo his jeans as fast as he can, reaching in and pulling out his cock without a second thought. “You did so good,” he continues as he fists himself roughly with one hand and uses the other to grab the hem of Drew’s shirt and push it up to his chest, exposing his lower stomach, words coming out in a growl as pleasure takes over. “So fucking good.”
Drew watches in awe as Matt jacks his cock quickly over him, wishing more than anything to reach down and do it for him. He knows not to interfere though. As much as he wants to, Matt is on a mission and he hasn't asked for permission to touch. He doesn’t want to be bad, afterall.
“Come on, Matt,” Drew starts. “I did good, didn’t I?” he continues and Matt nods. “So you’ll give it to me, right? Mark me? Your good girl?”
“Shit,” Matt grunts, a growl rumbling at the back of his throat as he falls over the edge, shooting ropes over his knuckles and painting Drew’s stomach with his release. “Fuck!”
He continues to tug at his cock until there’s nothing left, then stills once it’s over, it taking everything in him not to collapse down onto Drew. After a few moments he tucks himself back into his jeans then braces a hand on the seat next to Drew, his own head coming to rest against the younger’s shoulder as he tries to gain his composure.
It falls silent for a bit, the two taking the time to steady their breathing and gather themselves. After a minute Matt huffs out a laugh, lifting himself from his place at Drew’s shoulder and Drew looks up, watching as the man’s face shifts from scrutinizing to something softer.
“You good?” Matt asks quietly.
Drew nods. “Yeah. You?”
At this, a small smirk tugs at the corner of Matt’s lips. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
Drew laughs. “Feel like I might.”
Matt rolls his eyes, sitting back on his haunches and reaching behind himself to unlock the door to the car.
“Wait here,” Matt says as he climbs off of Drew and out of the car. Drew sits still and takes in a deep breath, the short moment broken when the trunk opens, Matt shuffling around in the back before reappearing a few seconds later. “Here.”
Drew’s about to ask what’s going on before Matt climbs back inside, kneeling on the ground next to him the best that his body will allow in the small space. Then he’s reaching forward and wiping Drew’s stomach off with what seems to be a hand towel that he can only assume Matt has retrieved from his bag in the trunk.
The action stirs something in Drew—something deep that he knows has to do with complex feelings that he just can’t let himself get into—at least not now. Maybe not ever.
That last thought sends a pang through his chest, but he pushes it aside and decides to ignore it.
“Thanks,” Drew says quietly, a small flush of embarrassment dusting across his cheeks.
It’s funny. He’s never really considered himself as someone to ever get that embarrassed, as demonstrated by his frequent erratic behavior in the dugout. Now he knows what it takes.
Matt gives him a small smile. “Told you—can’t have you making a mess in here.”
“What? This was all you!”
“Yeah, whatever,” Matt takes the easy route, wiping the towel against Drew once more then shuffling his way out of the car, ignoring Drew’s defensive sputtering. He goes through the trunk one last time to put away the towel, pulling closed the door just as Drew steps out from the backseat of the rental. “Alright, let’s go.”
Drew’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”
“Back to the hotel, idiot.”
He says it with a sort of admiration that has Drew’s heart dangerously skipping a beat.
“Oh.”
“What, were you gonna wait for another ride?”
“I mean, I can, I don’t want to be a bother—”
“Get in, Drew.”
It’s said with an air of finality, Matt turning and getting into the driver’s seat. Not wanting to waste more time going against Matt’s orders, Drew grabs his bag and heads around to the other side of the rental, and is rewarded as soon as he settles into the passenger seat.
“Good girl.”