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06 February 2005 @ 12:05 am
Go Mojo!  
Fuck the naysayers! This is for hackthis.

Unbetaed, Friday Night Lights fic. Don/Mike. Title from Allman Bros. "Ain't Wastin' Time No More".




1.

His ma’s sleeping soundly; Mike can hear her breathing, nice and easy. The door’s open like always, so if something happens he’ll hear.

He’s sitting out on the back step, leaning against the screen door. It’s hot, and little bit of wind kicks grit up onto his hands. Stings a little, when it gets in the cuts on his knuckles.

Don sits on the top of his car, across the gravel driveway and stares at his feet. He doesn’t drive out here unless it’s real bad, and so he doesn’t say much when he does. Just sits there on his car, and Mike sits with him, and Mike doesn’t say much either.

Mike’s house isn’t too far from the highway, and when he closes his eyes he can hear them rushing by. When his brother first left, sometimes Mike would sit out here and listen to the cars and wonder where people were going.

You have to drive by Odessa to get from one end of Texas to the other, doesn’t matter if you’re going north or south or east or west. Odessa’s pretty damned close to being the center of the whole state, maybe the center of the whole world.

“We’re dead without Boobie,” Don says, voice quiet.

Mike rubs his thumb over his knuckles, and shrugs. When he looks up, Don’s watching him. Don looks different when he’s not wearing a helmet or a hat, when he’s just sitting out here at night with Mike. His face gets soft, like maybe he’s scared.

Mike can stand being scared himself, but Don’s different.

“Could be,” he says after a while. “Could be we aren’t, too. But if we think we’re beat already, then we might as well not show up.”

Don’s eyes meet his, and they swallow up the light from the kitchen. Wind pulls at Mike’s collar, gets down the back of his shirt and makes him shiver a little, but he can’t look away until Don does. He never can.

2.

When Mike’s not on the field, it feels like his skin’s too big for him. Parties make it worse, because they’re too loud, too much altogether, so he just stands by the windows and watches.

Chavo’s kissing some dark haired girl in the corner, his big hands all over her small back, her round ass. When he meets Mike’s eyes over her shoulder, Chavo winks, like he does after a good play.

Mike doesn’t get how Chavo is always the same as he is when he’s playing. He’s always got that same walk, that same smile, like he’s just pulled down the biggest damn guy in West Texas, and there’s not a scratch on him.

When Don’s not on the field, he tries too hard to be like he is when he’s playing. He isn’t like Chavo – this doesn’t come easy to him. That’s probably why Don’s on top of table pulling off his shirt and drinking beer out of a funnel until it dribbles down his chin, his throat, over his collarbone, down.

Something about how Don dances makes the tracks of beer on his chest glisten, makes him look like he’s not just another kid who’s got a good arm who can run. Makes him look like some kind of young god. He’ll fall off the table, soon enough, and it’ll be over – he always does – and Mike will forget he ever thought that.

3.

When Mike’s throwing, he doesn’t have to wonder what the hell his ma’s going to be like when he gets home. He doesn’t have to think about the way that sometimes he thinks Odessa’s this big, mean-mouthed monster that eats up kids like him and Don and Boobie and spits them back out as the slope-shouldered men who sit around talking about the championship rings on their fingers.

He doesn’t have to think about anything but Don, who catches the ball and runs forever, his perfect legs pumping up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down until Mike’s back arches and he screams, exultant.

Touchdown.

4.

There are times Mike wonders if maybe he isn’t crazy as his ma is. People always say she isn’t right.

But he can’t be right either, because he doesn’t think about how nice some parts on the cheerleaders look when they bounce and jump. He doesn’t think about Melissa’s long legs under his hands, or the little sounds she made when she grabbed his hand and dragged it down between her legs so she could come, too.

He didn’t think about how good it felt when he was fucking her, just ran it through like a play in his head. This hand to the right breast, thumb on the nipple, lips up the neck and pull her leg around back. Break.

“You gay?” she asked him. “Prove it,” she said.

His ma doesn’t know the difference between what’s real and what isn’t, and Mike, with his hands all over Melissa’s body, with his cock in and out of her, well Mike didn’t think much of what was real. He just kept thinking, “Is this what Don does? Is this how Don would kiss her? Is this – “

Anyway, they say that kind of thing can run in families.

5.

It’s Sunday morning, after a good game and a better Saturday. Chavo’s home, studying, and Mike and Don are out behind the oil rig, lying on top of Don’s car.

“What do you think you’re gonna do next year?” Don asks. “You think you’ll go somewhere in Texas?”

Mike closes his eyes against the sun, and when he shrugs, his shoulder moves against Don’s. “Haven’t thought it out all the way yet.”

“Me neither,” Don says, turning his head a little and his hair brushes over Mike’s nose.

Makes him sneeze, and Don laughs. “What, that tickle?” He pokes Mike in the ribs, and Mike yelps, smacks his hand away. Smiles without opening his eyes.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Yeah, you too, shithead,” Don says cheerfully, and Mike smiles wider.

Next to him, Don’s chest moves up and down every time he breathes, nice and easy. There’s a steady buzzhum coming up from the grass, where the bugs hide in the dust.

It’s lazy and warm and Don says, “You were great last night, you know.”

Mike opens his eyes, and Don’s looking at him, and behind him there’s light and it makes his hair even brighter, and his eyes even bigger. Mike breathes deep, and says, “You, too.”

And Don puts an arm around his shoulders, and Mike closes his eyes again, and this – this is what Coach Gaines is always talking about.

This is perfect.
 
 
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Current Music: Four Leaf Clover (Live)-Abra Moore-Lilith Fair: A Celebration of Women in Music (Disc 1) (Live)
 
 
 
wearemany: clivewearemany on February 8th, 2005 08:37 pm (UTC)
ohhhh. oh this is lovely. don the golden god, which mike will forget, and what would don do, and this:

Wind pulls at Mike’s collar, gets down the back of his shirt and makes him shiver a little, but he can’t look away until Don does. He never can.

wonderful. i need a FNL icon, too.
pure FORESHADOWING: Bobcatitude!nifra_idril on February 8th, 2005 08:45 pm (UTC)
I get the feeling I'ma need me one of those FNL icons myself. But thank you, hon. I'm glad you enjoyed it! They're such *good* boys, aren't they?
so undeniably yours: mike :: the world hurtsparka_girl on February 8th, 2005 09:10 pm (UTC)
Very nice. Glad more people have embraced the FNL!love.


You should post to be_perfect.
pure FORESHADOWING: ak/hh unsinkable - crazyperfumenifra_idril on February 8th, 2005 09:33 pm (UTC)
Thanks, I'm glad you liked it! And thank you for pointing me toward be_perfect!
so undeniably yoursparka_girl on February 8th, 2005 09:44 pm (UTC)
no problem. :)
.: bitter end (krycons)hackthis on February 8th, 2005 09:22 pm (UTC)
Something about how Don dances makes the tracks of beer on his chest glisten, makes him look like he’s not just another kid who’s got a good arm who can run. Makes him look like some kind of young god. He’ll fall off the table, soon enough, and it’ll be over – he always does – and Mike will forget he ever thought that.

My brain! My brain! It's like goo now!

He doesn’t have to think about the way that sometimes he thinks Odessa’s this big, mean-mouthed monster that eats up kids like him and Don and Boobie and spits them back out as the slope-shouldered men who sit around talking about the championship rings on their fingers.

I have to go cry in my crappy draft beer now I think.

It’s lazy and warm and Don says, “You were great last night, you know.”

My eyes -- they like fell out my head. Oh, yes preciousssss. We will take over the world with FNL. One doubter at a time :D
pure FORESHADOWINGnifra_idril on February 9th, 2005 11:23 pm (UTC)
*grins* Oh yes, we will. Ain't no way we're not going to sweep the world like -- like -- okay, the only metaphor I could come up with was 'the black death', which is maybe not the best one. But! I am glad you liked this, and stop crying into your draft beer! It's watered down enough already!
counting down the hoursmetafic on February 8th, 2005 09:39 pm (UTC)
I like this, especially the Mike/Melissa. That's another one of those things it's hard to get a handle on from the movie, but you did a really good job with it.
pure FORESHADOWINGnifra_idril on February 9th, 2005 11:24 pm (UTC)
Yeah, that scene was really weird. I mean -- I think the implication is that he was a virgin? Or that he's just incredibly socially awkward? I'm not sure, but it made me go 'huh' a lot. But I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you!
B: MeloniBlueeyes - by groatylovekeller on February 8th, 2005 09:56 pm (UTC)
Love it so much!

He doesn’t have to think about anything but Don, who catches the ball and runs forever, his perfect legs pumping up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down until Mike’s back arches and he screams, exultant.

So damn hot!

Touchdown.

Oh, you were still talking about football ;-). My mind was completely in the arena where Mike and Don were having extremely hot sex.

I've fallen into FNL and I can't get out. Ever. Don't send help, I'm a happy fangirl.
pure FORESHADOWINGnifra_idril on February 9th, 2005 11:25 pm (UTC)
*laughs* See, I feel like when they're playing football they may as well be having totally hot sex, becuase dude. They are just so -- the vibe there? It's like hot DAYUM. *grins* Anyway, I, too, am a happy, happy fan. And I'm happier, even, that you enjoyed this!
Adoable Frunk: good of the podlyra_sena on February 9th, 2005 03:31 am (UTC)
I'm not saying I'm going to watch the movie, oh no. But I will point out the really lovely lines in this.

He doesn’t have to think about the way that sometimes he thinks Odessa’s this big, mean-mouthed monster that eats up kids like him and Don and Boobie and spits them back out as the slope-shouldered men who sit around talking about the championship rings on their fingers.

He doesn’t have to think about anything but Don, who catches the ball and runs forever, his perfect legs pumping up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down until Mike’s back arches and he screams, exultant.

Touchdown.


Er, okay that was almost the entire section. But gahd, baby, it's sooo wonderful. I love the words, the rhythm, the way you've captured that moment he has out on the field. Beautiful.

This:

Something about how Don dances makes the tracks of beer on his chest glisten, makes him look like he’s not just another kid who’s got a good arm who can run. Makes him look like some kind of young god. He’ll fall off the table, soon enough, and it’ll be over – he always does – and Mike will forget he ever thought that.

is angsty and tender and oh so sweet.

Mike opens his eyes, and Don’s looking at him, and behind him there’s light and it makes his hair even brighter, and his eyes even bigger. Mike breathes deep, and says, “You, too.”

And Don puts an arm around his shoulders, and Mike closes his eyes again, and this – this is what Coach Gaines is always talking about.

This is perfect.


*happy sigh* I love gay-but-don't-know-it boys. Oh yes.

NOT SEEING THE MOVIE DAMN YOU.

...but this is gorgeous writing, my sweet.
pure FORESHADOWINGnifra_idril on February 9th, 2005 11:26 pm (UTC)
You'll watch and you'll love it, ho. *grins and hugs you*
Sweet Melissavorsythia on February 9th, 2005 01:05 pm (UTC)
I simply must say that your title pleases me *immensely.* Also brings back memories of when we saw the Allman Bros together... remember the crazy lady? Good times...
pure FORESHADOWINGnifra_idril on February 9th, 2005 11:26 pm (UTC)
Oh, man! I had totally forgotten her! Gah! Those were good times man....I think I'm actually going to have to listen to some more Allman Bros, maybe right NOW.
Kay Deluca: lucasuntappedbeauty on March 1st, 2005 10:52 pm (UTC)
Oh, but this is wonderful! I love the feel of it, the details. I have one hell of a soft spot for Mike, and you really did justice to the character.

One of the things I thought you handled particularly well, though the fic wasn't heavy on it, was the dialogue. It read just right for Texas and for these guys without going overboard. It had the rhythms without stressing or spelling out the dialect.

Also, your descriptions make me wibbly inside, particularly this one:

He doesn’t have to think about anything but Don, who catches the ball and runs forever, his perfect legs pumping up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down until Mike’s back arches and he screams, exultant.

Gah. Very well done; I enjoyed this immensely!