My haters would absolutely love this, Tim told himself as he sat in the passenger seat of his brother's new Ford pick-up truck. A steely silence was filling the air between them, and neither could muster even the slightest glance at the other. Tim was mad at his brother, probably for the first time in his life; and Robby was disappointed in his Timmy for doing what he did.
And now the youngest, and nationally-famous quarterback, was about to pay for what he'd said.
The house they shared loomed in the distance, and Tim counted down the seconds before he heard the inevitable. There was no doubt in his mind what was to come. It'd happened before, though not since his college days. Even then he'd been able to weasel out of the situations his competitiveness and passion sometimes put him in, but there was no way he'd be getting out of this one. He'd slipped up, said the wrong thing to the wrong person, and his father had found out and sent a hard repercussion down. Robby had no choice but to see it through or risk his own neck.
"Get inside," Robby said as they pulled up to their relatively normal, neighborhood home. "Wait for me in my room."
Tim got out of the truck without a word, mounted the stairs up to the front door and unlocked it quickly. His pup Bronco bounded forward happily, and licked his hand in welcome. Tim scratched the bronze dog between the ears as he made his way upstairs, Bronco wading alongside him. He stopped only to put his phone and keys on his bedside table then continued down the hall to Robby's room.
How could he have been so stupid? He sat on the bed and didn't think to stop Bronco before the dog jumped up and laid with his head on the quarterback's thigh; the player stroked it out of pure habit as he ran over the incident in his mind.
He'd been frustrated. The snide comments from his coach, from his owner, that he wasn't sold on his ability to the lead the team to victory. I was four and one as a starter this season! He'd only thrown two interceptions compared to what? Seven touchdowns? His numbers were better than the "Great John Elway" at this point in time in his career, and yet he wasn't sold? He'd come back from fifteen down in less than three minutes to send the game versus Miami into overtime, which they won. He beat the Oakland Raiders, scoring twenty-four unanswered points in the second half to handily defeat them by fourteen. He'd completed two passes, not his fault, but still willed his team past the Chiefs. And one of those completions was a fifty-six yard touchdown pass that put the game out of reach. And just four days ago he'd led a ninety-five yard drive in the final minutes, capped it off with a twenty yard touchdown run, to beat the Jets.
But John Elway wasn't sold?
"What more do I have to do? I've given everything I have in the past five games for this team, and this is how you repay me? By telling the world you don't believe in me yet?" Tim had practically screamed at his owner.
The door to the room opened, and Bronco cocked his head up. "Bronco, out," Robby ordered the puppy, tossing his keys and phone down. Bronco just stared at his owner's brother. "Tim, goodness, tell your dog to get out. You know he'll only get upset if he's in here."
"Go on Bronco," Tim said, patting his dog's back. The puppy looked up at his owner for a second before jumping from the bed and trotting from the room. Robby closed the door to the room with a snap, and turned to his baby brother heaving a sigh.
"Can I ask why you had to decide to let your frustrations show today?" Robby asked, rolling his computer chair to rest next to the bed and sitting down. Tim didn't watch his brother; he was studying the fabric of his athletic shorts closely, counting in his head to seventeen before Robby said anything else. "Tim, talk to me." Again, Tim was quiet. "Timothy. Richard. Tebow."
Hearing your full name, when you're so used to being called Tim or Timmy, is enough to catch anyone's attention. Tim looked up to find his brother staring at him with a set jaw, as if he was clenching his teeth together. "What in the world gave you the notion to talk to your boss that way? Are you insane? Do you want to be benched for the game Sunday?"
"Of course I don't want to be benched!" Tim said defensively.
"Then why did you open your mouth? And don't give me the crap about his comments. He's been saying the same thing ever since he took over. And it hasn't bothered you yet."
"I'm sick of it, okay? I'm sick of being the first one at practice, the last one to leave! I'm sick of going to meetings, studying tapes until one in the morning, practicing my throwing motion, running plays with receivers over and over and over! I'm sick of giving him everything, everything I have, and still not being good enough? What more do I have to do? Do I have to throw a one hundred yard touchdown pass? Do I have to make every pass, not give up a single sack or throw the ball away even once? What more can I do to show him that I love what I do and I'm putting my heart into every single play?"
"You just have to keep working Timmy," Rob said gently. "I know it's frustrating, believe me, I know. I've been there through all this. I can see how it affects you. But you can't let it get to you. It can affect your game, and that's the last you need. Just keep winning. No one can say no to a W on the sheet."
Tim sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He knew what was coming next.
"Drop your pants and stand next to me," Robby said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
"You're not going to take me over you knee?" Tim asked, momentarily dumbstruck. Robby just looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm twenty-four years old, Robby! I'm an NFL quarterback!"
"Oh, okay," Robby said. "If that's how you see it, then you won't mind me calling Dad and letting you repeat that to him? What do you think his response will be to that?" Tim didn't even want to think about it, and Robby knew immediately he had squashed all of Tim's defenses. "Drop your shorts and stand on my right."
Tim slowly pushed himself up onto his feet and stood on his brother's right. He hooked his thumb into the elastic of his athletic shorts and peeled them down. Robby wasted no time in pulling his youngest brother face down across his lap and slipping the boxers down his legs too. There's was only a second's silence before the first loud, sharp 'smack' landed on Tim's right cheek.
He'd been in this position before, dozens of times. Seeing as his dad was a preacher and all, Tim grew up in a house molded by corporal punishment. As he'd grown older and matured, the spankings had been fewer and farther in between. Mostly they came when he let his competitiveness and passion for sports get in his way of thinking clearly and making good decisions. Since he'd entered college at the University of Florida, he'd been punished six times. Two of those, as no one knows, came from his coach, Urban Meyer. One came during his junior year when he wasn't having a good game, wasn't in a very good mood, and chipped Meyer's tooth. The second had come after the LSU game his senior year when Urban found out he'd lied about not having headaches after his concussion.
But now Tim found himself over his brother's new, receiving a spanking for smarting off and saying the wrong thing. Not only was it completely embarrassing to be in this position, it was also disappointing. He was thankful though, as Robby lit a hard, and particularly loud, fire in his butt that his brother Peter wasn't here to witness it. It was bad enough that he was getting spanked at twenty-four. He didn't need another person to hear it.
The young Tebow had experience with pain. And the pain he was feeling now wasn't going to make him cry by any means; he hadn't cried from a spanking since he was thirteen. But it did hurt. The most Tim showed off his discomfort was wiggling or curling his toes around the carpet. He wasn't going to make a sound. He just hoped it'd be over soon.
After one particularly hard smack, a whine sounded outside the door of the bedroom, and a scratching at the door's base followed. Bronco was pawing at the door.
Tim gasped audibly when Robby hit him on his toned upper thigh, and that caused another loud wail to sound outside in the hallway. The distant sound of a door slam was enough to make Robby falter in the steady pace he'd kept for the last ten minutes. Tim's worst fears were answered when he heard his older brother Peter call out from downstairs.
"Rob? Tim?" Bronco gave a bark, and the next time Peter spoke, it sounded from outside the door. "Guys, are you in there?"
Oh no, Tim thought desperately as the door knob turned.
Bronco had taken two steps at a run into the room when Peter caught his collar. The middle Tebow brother took in the scene in front of him in slight shock then looked at Robby. "You could have spared him the embarrassment of me walking in, had you responded the first time I said your name."
Bronco struggled against his captor as his owner hid his now blushing face in his muscled arm. Robby rolled his eyes. "Like you haven't seen it before. Wait for us outside? I'm almost done."
"Whatever he's done, I think this is enough," Peter said.
"Dad told me what I was to do, Peter. Leave and let me finish," Robby ordered.
Honestly, Peter didn't care. Tim's but was a bright, dark crimson and he looked to be in pain. He'd had enough, and Peter wasn't going to let his younger brother take anymore. He let go of Bronco's collar and the pup shot forward. It was hard for Robby and Peter not to laugh as the dog jumped onto the bed, crawled onto his owner, and plopped down right on Tim's punished butt.
Tim couldn't hold it in as Bronco's paws clawed unintentionally at his burning flesh. "Ouch! Bronco!"
And that broke the ice. Robby and Peter both busted out laughing, which startled Bronco. The shocked pup fidgeted around, and once against Tim made his pain audible. "Stop laughing and get him off me!" As soon as Peter had picked the dog up, Tim was on his feet rubbing his butt futilely. "You guys suck beyond belief."
Carefully he pulled his skin tight workout boxers back up with a groan. When neither brother stopped laughing, Tim pouted as he took Bronco away from his older brother. The pup immediately started licking Tim all over the face. Luckily, the excited dog didn't catch the quarterback's mouth.
"Thanks buddy, for caring. You're a better brother," Tim said, sobering his two brothers at once.
"You can't be serious," Robby said.
"I'm the one who let him stop you anyways!" Peter said, looking at Tim in shock.
Tim grinned, but that changed when both brothers got mischievous looks on their faces. Plopping Bronco down on his feet, Tim sprinted out of the room with Bronco, Peter, and Robby hot on his heels. And the chase only stopped when Tim had run both his brothers to near exhaustion and set Bronco on them.
Robby and Peter folded when the puppy trodden all over them, licking their mouths and ears over and over while they tried desperately to catch their breath.
"Thatta boy, Bronco," Tim laughed, holding out his hand. Bronco barked and lifted his own paw to shake with his famous owner.
I love Tim Tebow, and I just had the notion a while ago to write this story. Of course, now he's 6-1 as a starter, and will be playing the Bears tomorrow to try and make that 7-1, and a six game win streak. I believe he's a great player and an amazing person. Plus, he's drop dead sexy. And it makes it better that he's celibate, and a devout Christian! So, here is my guilty pleasure story of me imagining him getting his butt warmed. (He has a great butt, just saying.)
