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the one trait that people often considered to be ron’s downfall was his honesty. brutal and to the point and, worst or best of all, depending on who you were, often entirely true. and he had no problem with addressing someone’s shortcomings. which is why the publishing company he works for, assigned him to cover the sports section. with million dollar contracts, scandals, alleged drug use, and everything in the high stakes world of professional athleticism, ron was never afraid to call out all the bullshit. he was ruthless, precise, efficient, and detailed. in a profession where truth matter above everything else, he thrived. he often received scathing letters and threats but they always found their way to his junk mail or the trashcan, none of them holding any merit. however, after a particularly critical column on boston’s new pitcher, he gets something he never expected. the pitcher storms into his office and demands an explanation. ron would’ve had the wherewithal to be upset, if he wasn’t so damn impressed. and a little bit attracted to the redhead yelling at him. and that’s what really ended up surprising him.
ron was working on editing the other writers’ column when the door to his office slammed open.
“you have some fucking nerve man!”
ron looked up and saw boston’s newest pitcher, red faced and angry, standing before him.
web ran into the office, “ron you need security?”
ron shook his head no, “it’s okay web, please close the door on your way out.”
web stood uncomfortably for a second before following ron’s order.
“how can i help you, mr. malarkey?”
the man scoffed and ron tried to hold in his laughter.
“you can help me by telling what the hell this is about!”
don slammed today’s newspaper onto ron’s desk.
ron looked between the paper and the pitcher.
“it’s a newspaper, people often read in to stay current with issues and culture in today’s world.”
the man looked at ron in absolute frustration and ron shouldn’t have found it as attractive as he did.
and yet…
“very funny smartass,” don sighed, “why did you write it?”
ron shrugged, “because it’s my job.”
don sat down without being offered a seat and leaned heavily on ron’s desk.
“it’s your job to tear down and criticize every little thing about me?”
ron looked to don and the open and vulnerable expression on his face made him want to reach out and touch.
he cleared his throat, “it’s my job to report the truth and the truth is that you’re holding back and not playing to the best of your ability. you’re bringing the team down.”
don looked genuinely hurt before becoming angry again.
he pushed the chair back as he stood.
“and what the fuck do you know about the team? about how i play?”
ron smiled, a little smug but mostly polite.
“you’ve been in the minors for four years. you been pitching one hundred and four mile per hour fastballs since high school. yet last night you barely reached eighty-none. you’re single, no children, no significant other, boy or girl.”
don’s eyebrows rose and eyes widened at that.
ron continued, “you have a dog named cat, your best friend’s are the first baseman, alex penkala, and the catcher, skip muck. you are good friends with the rest of the team since most of you playing in the same minor team. you play like you’re afraid of being good. like if you play too well from the start, you’re bound to fail sometime and you’re someone who doesn’t take failure easily. so rather than risk a possible screw-up of decline in performance, you choose to play at a mediocre level rather than at the elite level you can. am i close?”
ron watched don take in everything he’d said, enjoying the shift of emotions dance across his face. it was a sight to behold.
don sat down heavily in the chair again.
he looked at ron for so long, without a word, than it began to make ron uneasy.
“you’re kind of creepy when you do that.” don’s eyes were shining with a light mirth, anger having shifted to awe.
ron’s shifted his eyes back to his laptop, “so i’ve been told.”
“but you’re right.”
ron’s hands stopped typing, silence filling the room.
“what?” ron asked incredulously.
“i said you’re right. i am…i am afraid of eventually not being good enough. of stretching myself too thin too quickly. or losing everything i’ve worked, basically my entire life, for.”
ron studied the man before him. in all his years of doing this, no one he’s criticized has ever admitted that he was right. it made ron’s breathing shorten, the man’s sturdy build, bright smile, warm eyes, and red hair, of course had nothing to do with it. maybe.
“i can understand the fear, but would you rather have a long career of being average or a possibly short career of being exceptional? you can be one of the greats, don. you just need overcome your fears, or at least fight them. everyone is scared of failure, but you can’t let it control you.”
ron smiled, trying to make it assuring.
don stared at him for a long moment, ron took it all in instead of fighting against it.
“dinner.”
ron looked at don in question.
“what?”
don blushed and ron swallowed hard. everything about this man, including his anger was somehow becoming endearing to ron.
“i m-meant to say, have dinner with me…please.”
ron smiled, “okay.”
don looked surprised either by how fast his response was or by the fact that his response was yes.
“okay? okay. great. i’ll pick you up from here around eight?”
ron nodded, “it’s a date.”
don blushed again and nodded before making a hasty exit through ron’s office door.
web came back in not a minute later, “what was that about?”
“nothing. he just wanted to yell at me before asking me out.”
ron tried to hide his smile but found that he couldn’t.
web gaped, “w-what? you…you…ronald speirs are going out with a professional athlete.”
ron nodded.
“you?! ronald speirs who told me not a week ago that all athletes are brutes and don’t deserve they amount of time you spend covering them.”
ron shrugged, “maybe i was wrong.”
web dropped the books in his hands.
“fuck, what the hell did that guy do to you?”
ron didn’t answer, couldn’t answer because even he didn’t know. he just knew that something about don had captivated him in the past twenty minutes and he needed to figure out what it was.
don was pacing fast, wearing down the carpet in skip’s apartment.
skip, for all intents and purposes, was doing his best impressions of a fish out of water.
“you…”
“how…”
“with speirs…”
“how…”
don stopped pacing, looked at skip, and then started pacing again.
“i don’t know skip. i can’t figure out what made me ask or why he even said yes, but fuck. you have no idea what he’s really like. i can’t believe it. for all you guys complain and fear him, he isn’t that bad. he’s actually really nice and he’s intense and he smells like smoke and heat. and jesus christ skip, i’m totally fucked.”
skip started laughing loudly and don stopped his pacing in confusion.
“what? skip why are you laughing like that?”
“you…” skip couldn’t stop laughing.
“i…what?”
skip gathered his composure as best he could.
“you have a crush on ron fucking speirs.”
don took a moment to let it sink in before swearing.
“fuck. i totally do.”
then both men burst into laughter.
don’s alarm rang, letting him know he needed to leave.
“fuck. h-how do i look skip?”
skip gave don a once-over and smiled.
“like you want to have sex with a journalist.”
don winked, “exactly what i was going for.”
skip groaned in disgust and pushed his best friend out of his apartment.
ron was finishing changing and packing up for the night when someone knocked on his door coming in.
ron assumed if was web letting him know he was heading out, so he didn’t rush to put on his t-shirt.
he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it was don malarkey, looking like sex on legs and staring at ron like he was a cold glass of water and don had been in the desert for far too long.
ron’s default pride etched it’s way onto his face, “hi don, give me a minute.”
ron didn’t miss the rushed nodded and the hungry eyes glued to his chest.
ron smiled as he bent down to pick up his shirt.
he could’ve sworn he heard a soft “fuck,” from the man behind him and he smiled wide.
he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his bag, “ready?”
don smiled, face flushed, “hell yeah.”
don hadn’t moved from the doorway and ron met him in the middle.
ron was about to push through, but he stopped. he just had to…
“one thing first,” he braced his arms on either side of don’s chest and pressed his lips into the redhead’s.
he heard a soft moan before don kissed him back in a fevered haze.
it was slow and languid and hot and perfect.
when they eventually pulled back, both men’s eyes were dark with lust and longing.
don laughed shakily, “wow.”
ron bit his lip and grabbed don’s hand, guiding them out of the office and into the night.
don malarkey surprised the crowd with strikeouts to eighteen of the opposing team’s batters, including the final pitch of the game sealing the win and advancement into the finals. boston can sleep with immense pride tonight, knowing that our team is one step closer to winning the pendant.
don put down the newspaper with shaky hands.
he was stunned.
he and ron had been seeing one another for nine months and it wasn’t easy with him being on the road much, but they made it work. and when things were bad, they were still good and when things were good…they were great.
and this? this was the first time ron has put down into physically words, the affection he’d only ever given to don. it was a lot, considering his reputation. it meant everything to don. that ron both, cared about him so much that he was willing to tarnish his hard earned reputation, and that he said everything without saying much. don loved that. he loved a lot of things about ron. he just…loved him.
and that scared don more than winning the pendant, more than sobel’s training exercises, more than skip and luz on april fools. but don’s been dealing with this secret since their six month anniversary and he couldn’t handle it anymore. with so much stress and pressure, any relief, however slight or great, would be appreciated.
so when ron comes over, just a night of them relaxing with pizza and beer and some movie that don’s not really listening to, don realizes that he needs to tell ron. right now or he fears he never will.
he pauses the movie and stands up and watches ron’s confused eyes follow him.
“i have to tell you something and i don’t know how you’re going to take it.”
don notices a flash of fear in ron’s eyes before he covers it with casual indifference.
“okay.”
“so we’ve been dating for nine months ron and that’s…that’s the longest of i’ve ever been with someone. and it’s been the best thing, the greatest thing to me. and i…” he stops, unsure of how to even begin, “you remember the first day we met?”
ron smiled, how could he forget, “yes.”
“you…you told me that everyone has fears. and you told me that we have to overcome them or at least fight them and not to let them control us.”
ron nodded.
“well, the thing is i’m afraid.”
ron stood up and grabbed don’s hands, helping to calm him.
“afraid of what?” ron asked, eyes wide and, for the first time, don saw vulnerability in his eyes, like whatever don said next had the possibility to complete or break him.
don let out a short breath, “i’m afraid of how much i…i love you.”
ron’s mouth open in a silent gasp before he smilde bright.
“it’s about damn time don.”
don looked at ron in confusion.
“i’ve been waiting so long for you tell say that.”
don slapped ron’s shoulder, “you’re an asshole. why didn’t you say anything?”
ron grabbed don’s neck softly, “don, you nearly had a panic attack telling me just now, i wasn’t going to force you to tell me until you were ready.”
don kissed ron hard, lips sliding wet and hard against ron’s.
when they separated, don spoke softly into ron’s chest, right near his heart.
“i love you.”
ron kissed the top of his head, “i love you too.”