No lyrics. For original version, see either Luke's AGU Board or the Kim-Kim Army.
Never Tear Us Apart
Acepilot
AN - No.38 in the Road series. This was going to be the end of the series, but I've decided to do a few more afterwards. I hope you're all still enjoying them. This fic kind of goes back to the beginning - the night Phil and Kimi got together. I once swore that there were two Road series episodes I'd never write - Phil and Kimi getting together, and Tommy and Lil's wedding. Well...here's one of them. I'm still working on the other. Please review!
Disclaimer - the characters in this fic are property of KlaskyCsupo. If you're reading on Luke's AGU Boards, the lyrics in this fic are from "Calling All Nations" and "Never Tear Us Apart" respectively, and both were written by Andrew Farris and Michael Hutchence, from the INXS album 'Kick'.
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"Dance with me!"
I roll my eyes. "No. I don't dance. You know that."
Kimi Finster huffs and glares at me, but her lips slim to a tight smirk and her eyes narrow suggesting she has some sort of new mischief to cause. "Fine. Don't dance. I'll just be out there…on the dance floor…where any man could just wander up and seduce me and take me away…"
I roll my eyes. It's not that I'm not attracted to Kimi. I am. And I would definitely – definitely – not like to see her hook up with another guy. But I most certainly don't dance. It's a thing. Ask anyone.
Ask, for example, Tommy and Lil.
Who are currently sitting to my left and shaking their heads in seeming amazement.
"Yes, can I help you?" I ask, turning to face my sister and her boyfriend.
Tommy just laughs and shakes his head, but Lil leans forward. "You're a real idiot, Phil."
I nod. "Thanks."
I watch her for a while from the comfort of the couch in the corner, and I'll admit to feeling my blood pressure rise when I spot her sidling up to another guy – one I recognise kind of vaguely from school. I think he's a jerk.
Well, actually, if I didn't think he was a jerk, then I do now.
For someone who is no more a part of my life than Tommy, or Lil, or Dil, or Chuckie, she does tend to occupy an inordinate amount of my thinking. It wasn't always this way. I can still remember a time when I didn't think of her much at all.
Okay, that didn't come out right. When I didn't think of her any more than any of my other friends might be a better way of wording it.
At any rate, those days are behind me now. I'm slowly having to face up to the truth.
And the problem is that it's not a truth I feel like I'm ready to face up to. I'm still in high school for crying out loud – and I'm certainly not some dull lovesick puppy like certain other people – who may or may not be my sister and friend – who I could (but won't) name. I'm 18 – I've had sex. A few times. It didn't work out, generally. But I certainly don't want to suddenly commit myself to a relationship – not now. Not yet. Maybe after I've gotten out and explored the world a little. We'll see what happens then.
Because I've got this unerring feeling that if I hooked up with her, then I'd never get another chance to be with anyone for the rest of my life. And I'm shallow enough to be able to admit to how uncomfortable that makes me. There's a difference between what I've had so far and what I would have with someone like Kimi.
It occurs to me that this entire line of thought is being based on the – rather arrogant – assumption that she actually likes me. Which is totally unfounded. She might think I'm a complete jerk and moron. Maybe she just flirts with me for fun. Who knows?
Yeah. Convince yourself of that. Just remember, there's no way so much sexual tension builds up between two 'just friends'.
"And now, for your aural pleasure, we have some volunteers."
The sound of this voice from the stage starts me panicking. Not because of the voice. The guy who owns it is actually quite nice – he's the DJ here, I've met him a few times. No, the reason I start panicking is twofold: for one, the word 'volunteers' reminds me that this place is a karaoke bar.
And for two, it makes me notice that Dil and Chuckie are auspiciously absent.
I turn my head reluctantly to the stage and witness my best friend and my crush's brother standing at the stage. Chuckie looks wobbly enough for me to assume that this either wasn't his idea or that he's a bit tipsy – or, more likely, a combination thereof. Dil, however, looks his usual upbeat self. A little too upbeat, actually. Makes me wonder if Amanda is here tonight and I've missed it.
Dil keeps insisting to me that there's nothing going on between him and his unusually close female/platonic friend, but I'm smart enough to know that there either is or he very much wants there to be.
We're not that dissimilar.
As Dil proceeds to belt out a surprisingly passionate rendition of 'The Loved One', with Chuckie providing crooning backing vocals that are ever-so-extremely out of key, I watch Kimi grinning at the stage where her brother and Tommy's are making complete fools of themselves but at least having a good time doing it. When they do come down off the stage, she escorts them both back to our table.
"Good job, guys," Tommy offers, but the effect of the compliment is kind of killed by the poorly restrained laughter in his voice.
Dil just grins. Chuckie shrugs embarassedly.
"And you've got to sit still," Lil says, tapping the red-head on the knee. "This might be one of the last times we get to go out before you leave for college, and I intend to give you a good talking to about the ways of the world before the night's over."
Chuckie looks to Tommy for help. "Ways of the world?"
He shurgs. "I dunno. You know, I checked the maps, and you're going to be living within a half-dozen kilometres of Angelica. Just when you thought you'd be escaping her forever."
Chuckie ducks his head. "Yeah, but what can you do? We'll probably never see each other, you know."
"True, true," Kimi agrees, patting her brother on the back. "I can't believe my big brother is all grown up, though," she wails - slightly sarcastically. The dab at the eye is definitely for dramatic effect. "Going off to uni. Next thing you know - "
"Let's just focus on this thing for the moment," Chuckie insists, pulling back from his sister's arm. "I'll be fine guys."
"Just wait," I finally pipe up. "Within a few months you'll meet some nice girl and forget all about us."
"Maybe you and Angelica can double-date," Dil suggests to gales of laughter.
We toast Chuckie with a few non-alcoholic drinks, and for a moment I'm so happy to just be amongst my friends - no worries, no pressures, just a good time to be had by all - that I coud practically cry. Okay, maybe not cry, but close. It takes everything off my mind, for a moment. Even her.
But then she announces, "I'm going to dance again."
She looks straight at me.
"Anyone coming?"
I gulp and I'm eerily aware of Lil grinning at me, even though I can't see her. Chuckie has turned and started talking to Dil about something.
Probably, nothing's going to happen.
"Yeah," I finally say, "I'll join you."
"I thought you were just going to spend the whole night on that couch..." she teases me when we're on the floor, dancing to some pop song I'm temporarily unable to identify. The one good thing about this club is, on the rare occasions it does play pop, it's at least old and half-decent. The one person who ever requested teeny-bopper stuff got laughed out of the place.
"Well, I'd hate to seem anti-social," I banter, trying not to look too stupid. I've got to admit, my legendary confidence does tend to falter in the face of getting up on a floor and dancing. It's just not my element. Really not my element.
"You? No fear."
I admire the way she moves to the music. She's very good at it. I think she got Susie to teach her or something. Either way, she's eyecatching.
So, she's definitely not difficult to look at. She's cute, she's funny, she's - in every sense of the word - perfect.
So why am I so terrified of letting something we both want happen?
I find myself watching her lips, and - though it horrifies my eighteen year old male mind to think it - wondering what it would be like to kiss her.
The music slows down, and my initial urge is to turn around and sit down with the rest of the guys again. Dancing to slow songs with friends is a big, big no-no. It's simply not done.
But as I start to turn, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
I take a deep breath, and - aware that this might well be the death knell of my friendship with this girl - I turn back to face her.
She looks suddenly smaller and all the more beautiful. She's looking down but her eyes are rising to seek me out and she looks almost shy. Slowly, but surely, she wraps her arms around my neck. Instinctively, I slide mine around her waist, and - suddenly - we've stopped being the two of us and now we're one of dozens of couples out on the dance floor.
I don't know if I can tell you why I kissed her. Maybe it was the song. Maybe it was the build up of inevitability. Maybe it was the only way I knew how to face my feelings. But that was how it happened. No confession. No telling her I was in love with her, no pretty words. Just a kiss.
I pull her closer, pressing my lips to hers, sliding my hands up and running them through her hair. Any fears that she might not have reciprocated my feelings are thrown out the window as she attempts to hold me closer. I wonder for a second if the guys have noticed, but then any surplus thoughts are dismissed as she invades every sense I have.
I'm still afraid. But I'm learning...
When we break apart for oxygen and I can see her eyes in the dim light of the club, there's something there that I don't think I've ever seen before. And I probably never will see again.
"Let's go," I mutter, just loud enough for her to hear over the music.
She nods, and as we leave the club, I wonder what's going to happen next. How this is going to work.
But I don't want to think about it. All I want to think about is her.
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