The Arms You Fell Into
Sep. 10th, 2009 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fleurlbNotes/Warnings: These are three loosely related stories whose titles all come from AA Bondy's song "The Pines Are Dancing." Story One takes place before Season 1. The other two stories take place after Season 3. I don't think there's anything particuarly spoiler-y here.
Disclaimer: NBC, Peter Berg and all those other people own everything recognizable here. I am only doing this for fun and to pass the time until Season 4 starts.
Story One: The Pounding of a Midnight Heart
Tim half-collapsed on Tyra with a contented sigh, careful to fall to the side. He rested his head on her chest, pressing his ear close so he could hear her heart.
He closed his eyes as he listened, the pulse fast and strong at first, then easing to a slower, more steady pace. Tyra's hand was still tangled in his hair, her fingernails lightly scratching small circles into his scalp. His eyelids felt heavy, so he gave in and slid off into that odd twilight between sleep and wakefulness.
The night was hot and muggy, and the heavy darkness pressed in around them. The scratchy blanket irritated his skin, but he didn't want to move. Ever.
This spot under the trees at the edge of the lake had become his second home. It was the only place he felt he could breathe easily. Even Tyra was different here – more relaxed, her mouth soft and warm instead of sharp and angry. However many times they broke up, they always seemed to end up here. It was the only place they made sense.
Tim drifted, nearly able to believe that no one else existed. Just him and Tyra, the trees and the water, the frogs and crickets singing a melody set to the steady bass line of her heart. He felt Tyra shift underneath him, struggling to get comfortable on the hard ground.
Lifting himself onto his elbow, he pressed a kiss into her collarbone. Tim shook the hair out of his eyes so he could see her. Half-lidded eyes still dark with desire looked back at him intensely enough to nearly derail his thoughts.
“What time d'you need to be home?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
“Whenever,” said Tyra with a dismissive wave.
“Really? But last week....your mom....she seemed pretty upset when you stayed out all night. You probably don't want to get in trouble again.”
“That was last week.” She sighed and rolled her eyes.
Tim cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
“Last week, she was on that responsible motherly kick, all worried about where I was and what I was doing. But then she met a new guy and she hasn't even been home for three days. She called, a few times when they came up for air, so at least Mindy and I know she's still alive.”
Tyra's voice was brittle. She turned her head and shifted her gaze so she was looking past Tim.
He didn't know what to say, but he knew what to do. Comfort was a bit outside his abilities but distraction was a service he could provide.
He ran his hand down her side, his fingertips skimming the surface, light enough to tease but heavy enough not to tickle. His hand grazed over her hip and continued down her leg. He watched her face, which was barely visible in the dim light. He thought he caught a twist to her lips, a fleeting smirk.
“Tim, at least kiss me when you do that,” she said, her voice part playful, part exasperated. He grinned and pulled back slightly, the refusal to give in to her request a clear dare.
She caught his wrist in one hand while using the other to push him over, effortlessly rolling on top of him. Her fingers were tight around his wrist, nails digging into soft skin. She settled onto him and roughly stretched his arm above his head, no question but that she was now in charge.
Tyra leaned down to kiss him, pulling away at the last second. He grinned up at her as her smile went from amused to wolfish. He waited, patiently, and when she finally kissed him, he savored it, ready to drift off with her again.
--- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- ---
Story Two: A Match to a Ball of Lies
The pressure had been building for weeks. Every time he smiled and nodded as Lyla made another plan, he felt like he was adding bricks to an unsteady pile that would one day topple and crush him. He told himself he just had to get through the summer. Billy always said not to burn bridges. But it was hard, feeling like he was trussing himself up in a series of little lies and glib assurances.
Tim realized he had to light the match and watch the fire burn just as Lyla was kissing a hot, lazy trail down his chest, her hands deftly popping open the buttons of his fly as she murmured about going to visit him in San Antonio over the homecoming weekend.
“Hold on a second,” he rasped.
“What? What's wrong?” she asked, barely pulling her mouth away from his skin. She popped the last button, and he felt sharp nails pull back the waistband of his briefs to allow hot, soft fingers to slip inside.
His breath caught in his throat, and it was so tempting to just shake his head and let her continue. But the rain pounding on the windshield sounded to him like the truth demanding to be let in. He grabbed her hands and eased them away. Lyla pulled back from him. He could see hurt and confusion on her face.
“Tim?”
He rebuttoned his fly and pulled his shirt closed, then took a deep breath and raked his hand through his hair. When he looked over at Lyla, she'd shifted over to the passenger side of the truck, her back pressed against the door and her expression still uncertain. He was grateful for the distance, since it would make it easier for him to think, but it was a bitter moment because he knew she'd never touch him again, certainly not that way.
“Lyla, I been thinking about this a lot. You and me. You need to go to Vanderbilt without any strings or commitments.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, I want you to have the whole, the best college experience. Parties, friends, everything. That's not going to happen if you're tied to me.”
“But I love you Tim. You're the one I want and I don't care if you're a thousand miles away. There's the phone and email and cheap airfare and if we want to stay together badly enough, we can.”
“I love you too.....so much. But Lyla, it's not enough.”
She looked at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. He could nearly pinpoint the exact second that her confusion gave way to anger and suspicion.
“What's going on here, Tim?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this really about what's best for me? Or do you want to go to San Antonio State a free man? Are you the one who really wants the whole, best college experience?”
“It's not like that.”
“Oh, really Tim? Then what is it like? Explain it to me.”
“I'm not going.”
“What are you talking about?”
“College. San Antonio State. I'm not going.” He was amazed at the relief he felt, like he'd pushed that pile of bricks over and managed to leap out of the way with only a few scratches.
Momentarily at a loss for words, she blinked several times before responding. “But Tim. You're not....I don't know what you think you're doing, but this opportunity – you can't just throw it away.”
“I'm not going.”
“This is ridiculous. Does Billy know?”
Tim looked down at the steering wheel and shook his head.
“Then let's go talk to Billy. Maybe he can convince you that you're making a terrible mistake. Because you are, Tim. You are.”
“No, I'm not. It's my decision and it's done. My scholarship is gone. My place is taken. It's all done.”
“What? But when?”
“Two days after Billy's wedding.”
“Tim! That was three months ago.”
“I know.” He'd always lived by the rule that it was easier to get forgiveness than permission, but he'd known for weeks that this was a situation where he'd get neither. Certainly not from Lyla.
She turned her head and stared out the window into the rain. A flash of lightening lit the sky and Tim counted in his head until the thunder rumbled. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she slapped it away.
“Take me home.”
“Lyla-”
“Now.”
He looked at the stubborn set of her chin. The tightness of her folded arms. The stiffness to her back. He sighed and started the truck without argument. Before he put it in gear, he tried one last time.
“Lyla, look at me.”
She refused to turn her head. He opened his mouth a few times before giving up. The fifteen-minute drive to her house felt like three lifetimes.
When he pulled up at her place, she waited until the truck stopped and then climbed out calmly. The only sign of their fight was the barely controlled slam of her door. She walked slowly, like she didn't notice the rain. He watched and waited until the door closed behind her, then he drove away.
--- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- --- --- -- ---
Story Three: The Pines Are Dancing
The party at the lake the night before the season opener was a Panther tradition. Tim went out of habit, without really thinking about what it would be like now that he was no longer a Panther. Still, it wasn't like he was some sad, fat thirty-five year old who was crashing a teen party.
He still knew nearly all the guys on the team. No one looked at him like he didn't belong. Rally girls still paid attention to him, especially since the rumor of his recent single status had rolled through town.
Even though it was the same as countless other parties, it was different. It felt all wrong Even though everyone treated him like he still belonged, he knew the truth. And the truth stung.
He kept to the edge of the party, more of an observer than a participant. The sun was setting behind the trees across the lake. A breeze blew through, carrying a chill on its sharp edges.
Tim stood up and stretched, thinking maybe he should head home while he was still safe to drive. A lone figure swaying at the edge of the water caught his eye, so he wandered over. It was Julie Taylor.
She was wearing an oversized blue Panthers sweatshirt. The sleeves came down over her hands, folded fabric hiding everything except her fingertips, which were clutching a red Solo cup. She was wearing tight jeans and blue sneakers. Her blonde hair fell straight down her back. The expression on her face was dreamy and far-away. Tim almost felt like he was intruding.
“Taylor,” said Tim, lifting his beer bottle in greeting.
“Hi,” she said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Been asking myself the same thing,” he replied as he jammed a hand in his pocket and hunched his shoulders. He shifted uneasily on his feet.
“Look, the pines are dancing,” she said, turning her head to look back across the lake.
“You drunk, Taylor?”
She laughed and shook her head. He deftly plucked the cup out of her hands and took a sip, tasting the tang of rum mixed with sugary Coke.
“You lie,” he said with a smile, holding the cup out of her reach.
“I do not. That's my first one. I swear.”
He looked at her skeptically.
“OK, maybe it's my second. But I'm definitely not drunk.”
Tim was able to reach up and set the cup onto the branch of a tree, wedging it into a hollow in the trunk so it stayed there.
“Tim, give it back.”
“Nu-huh, Taylor,” he replied, shaking his head. “You start talking about dancing trees, I say it's time to cut you off. Friends don't let friends hallucinate.”
“But look,” Julie said, gesturing out across the lake. “They are dancing.”
Tim looked, but all he saw were branches moving in the breeze. He shrugged. “I'm not seeing it.”
She reached out, grabbed his hand and pulled him over. Surprised, he tried not to stumble. She put his hand on her hip and then slid her hands up his chest. She leaned in close, her swaying hips gently pushing him into copying her languid rhythm. They danced for a few minutes, her head resting on his chest, the weight of it somehow both novel and natural.
“Now, look at the trees, look especially at the tops.”
He turned his head and looked. “Nah, Taylor, I'm still not seeing it.”
“Well look again,” she insisted. “Really look, Tim. Like you're seeing them for the first time.”
He let his eyes go out of focus and then looked again. The shape and motion were the first impression he picked up. He laughed.
“You can see it?”
“I can see it.”
He looked down and she was looking up at him. He felt like he was seeing her for the first time too. He leaned down, partially expecting her to pull away, but she stretched up and met him halfway. He closed his eyes and kissed her as they danced to the music that only she and the pines could hear.
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Date: 2009-09-11 12:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-09-11 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 07:51 pm (UTC)And I am completely counting the days until 28 Oct. :)
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Date: 2009-09-12 05:08 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-01-04 06:54 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2010-01-06 12:03 pm (UTC)