Joe blinked. He'd been signing an autograph for a young fan, turned away just for one moment as Ben was announced to be walking to the crease. He was sure Ben's name had been called, sure that he was coming out number four. But the man holding the GM bat with Ben's tattoos and adjusting the straps on his pads at the non-striker's end had 44 on their back, not 38. And the name 'RAINE'.
Joe would know Ben's body anywhere, having seen it intimately enough he could map it out with his eyes closed. But this didn't make any sense. That couldn't be Ben. Ben didn't wear 44 or RAINE on his back. For Durham, it had always been 38, and for anyone it had always been STOKES. This didn't add up or make any sense.
He was about to ask one of the standers by if they'd changed the order, sure that if Rainey was playing it would be in the fielding innings and certainly not coming out at number four but having no other reason on how this could make sense, when the batters took a quick single as the ball nipped through the fielders. The batter wearing 44 took his guard, turning to face him after he scraped his mark and giving him a very familiar wink with instantly recognisable eyes.
Something in Joe's chest hardened, his jaw locking in rage as Ben turned back around to face his first ball, leaving no doubt that, no, it was not Ben's number nor his name on his back, but it was in fact his boyfriend at the crease.
"Sorry, Joe, do you mind?" He tried very hard to suppress his rage as he crouched down to the young kid who had come over with her mum, holding out an autograph bat for his to sign. His head snapped up at the unmistakable sound of Ben being caught out by a ball, the thing seeming to have bounced up on him more than expected. After a small hesitation, Ben trotted a single, getting himself back off strike.
Joe gave the young kid a smile, making sure to add the smiley face to his autograph, as he got back to his feet to watch Ben at the crease.
Why did he have Rainey's shirt on? Joe wanted to ask, wanted to demand an explanation for this utter bullshit. Ben had been planning to play in this match since he announced his retirement, they had time to get a sodding shirt with 38 and STOKES on it. Why was Ben sporting someone else's name like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.
If he was sporting someone else's name, it should have been Joe's.
It wasn't a feeling Joe was expecting to feel today; jealousy. But right until Ben was walking back towards the club house - 8 off his 13 after nicking it back to the wicketkeeper - Joe wanted nothing more to streak onto the field and rip the shirt off Ben's back. He was barely thinking as his feet powered him around the outfield, following Ben's movements back to the away dressing room and not stopping until he'd followed Ben inside.
Ben seemed shocked to have Joe so close behind him.
"I'm alright," Ben sighed, clearly thinking Joe had come to check on him after going for a low score. "That invariable bounce is something else."
"Get it off," Joe muttered, trying to keep his voice low as he followed Ben back to his spot in the cramped room. Ben frowned at him.
"Get that shirt off," Joe demanded with more insistence, pulling at the hem. Ben's still gloved hands came on top of Joe's trying to stop him ripping the material from his torso. Ripping. What a great idea. "Ben, get it off."
"Hey, what the fuck?" Ben pushed back, getting Joe to sit in his spot as he frowned at him from under his helmet. Joe tried, once again, to get to his feet to get the shirt off Ben, but the all-rounder held him in place. "Joe, what the fuck is going on?"
"I need you to get that shirt off." Joe huffed, as if somehow he hadn't been pretty damn clear about that. Ben blinked at him.
"Because that's not your name and that's not your number!" Joe spat hotly, indignant that Ben couldn't see why this was such a problem. Ben, however, didn't move, raising his eyebrow at Joe.
"I don't play T20 for Durham, so I don't have a shirt," he tried. The resistance to take the damn shirt off just made Joe more angry.
"This isn't a T20 game, it's a fucking 50 over," Joe snarled, pushing to his feet and trying to get the shirt off Ben once more. He knew Ben had ODC Durham shirts with his name and number on them. They'd arrived at the house last week.
"It's just a shirt, it doesn't mean anything," Ben protested, keeping Joe's hands away from pulling at the blue and yellow shirt on his body. Joe would not be deterred in his mission.
"It's been pissing me off since you walked to the crease."
"What?!" Joe couldn't understand why Ben was confused about this. If he'd walked onto the field with someone else's name and number on his back, Ben wouldn't have even let him take his guard.
"Can you just take it off!" Joe stamped his foot in frustration, openly glaring at Ben now and not caring who was hovering in the doorway to find out what the fuss was about. Let them see. Let them all see that he wouldn't just sit by silently whilst they branded Ben as theirs. He might have gone back to Durham to play for them, but Ben was Joe's.
"Alright," Ben said slowly, hands out in defence in case Joe tried to rip the material from his skin. He pulled off his gloves and helmet, not dropping his defensive stance, before taking the shirt off his body. No sooner was it free, Joe bundled it up, tossing it aggressively across the room and leaving Ben in just his tracking bra. "I did not know you to be this jealous."
"I'm not jealous," Joe snapped, his eyes flashing in fury. Ben just cocked an eyebrow at him.
"I just borrowed a shirt," he tried, putting his leg up on the bench to remove his pads. Joe let out a hot breath.
"Next time, borrow one that doesn't have someone else's name on it."
"I really didn't think this would bother you," Ben mused, still removing his batting gear.
"Alright, next time I go out to bat I'll walk out wearing someone else's name and number."
"It's Rainey, Joe." Ben was trying to contextualise it, make out that Joe had over reacted. So what if he had; the sight of Ben wearing someone else's name had enraged him beyond comprehension. Ben didn't have to understand why, he just had to never do it again.
"You're mine, Ben." The words punched through the air, the seriousness of Joe's tone shocking Ben to stillness. "I won't have anyone under the impression otherwise."
"It's never been in doubt," Ben tried to reassure, but Joe was still too raw to the fire. Too close to the rage he'd felt at seeing someone else's name on his boyfriend's back. That sight would haunt him for the rest of his life, catching like litmus paper every time a shot of Ben in blue and yellow was brought to his attention.
