Three A.M.
by Grace (purplemud)
Summary: Big game equals an insomniac Nathan and how exactly does Nathan deal with it? (Naley)
Rating: T/4
Pairing: Naley
Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own.
Author's Note: I'm still in Georgia and still quite busy with work, but I happen to unearth this little scribble and to make up for the late updates of How To and 23, here's a little something from me. I have like tons of OTH scribbles so maybe I can put them all in here.
Spoilers: Seasons 1 to 4.
Nathan
Two years ago, just about the same time, the night before a big game, he'd be out by their backyard, shooting hoops. He could never sleep and it was the only thing he could do. It's not nerves. He's never been nervous about a game. Ever.
Well, okay, maybe his first real game, but never after that. He knew the game well enough to be confident that he'd get through it, conquer everyone, everything. Although never his father. Or at least the ever looming shadow of his father.
Maybe it was the reason why he'd always end up doing endless free throws in the middle of night, with no one watching him, taking down notes and giving him suggestions or criticisms – depending on who's keeping track of how many consecutive basketballs made it into the basket.
And more than that, it was peaceful and calm out there, no noise from the crowd. No jeering. No shrill screams. No one calling or chanting his name like it's some sort of mantra. He'd been yelled at so many times, he was beginning to like this kind of silence. The kind that is only broken by his own even breathing, the sound of the basketball slapping against concrete. The staccato slap, slap, slap surrounding him. It's a familiar sound, he'd heard it all of his life. In fact, if pressed, he'd admit that his first ever real memory is watching his father dribbling that big orange ball all around the house.
It's a lonely sound, actually. But he never noticed it before. Never realized that it was the echo if his own heart. But really, how could he? He wasn't the kind of guy who'd think about such things. There was only one thing he cared about and that was winning and to win, you gotta get the ball in - as Tim had so often told him.
Nights like that, he remembered it in great detail: he'd let the ball skim the palm of his hand, slap it with just the right amount of force - the movement controlled and precise – born out of years and hours of endless practice. He'd pause for a moment, visualize the shot inside his head before he'd bend his knee, flex his wrist, take a deep breath and then finally let go of the ball. It would go flying in. And it's all instinct. Even with the fading, barely there light, he'd always get a nice, clean shot. Nothing but net. Perfect. And he can do this in his sleep, too.
But no matter how beautiful, how graceful the arch is, he was never satisfied. Nothing satisfied him. Not the big house and the privileges bestowed upon the son of a local basketball hero, all the adulation and praises he'd get for being a local high school basketball hero in the making. The attention - maybe even affection - that he craved from his parents that he so easily got from friends and school mates and the endless girls who'd stare at him, battling their eyelashes, always touching him, always willing and ready to answer to his every whim. All of those - it meant not nothing of course, but at the same time, it didn't mean anything.
On nights like that, the things that should make him feel proud or happy, they all felt phony. Even his relationship with the hottest girl in school seemed more like a day time soap opera that everyone in their school would scrutinize and talk about. Sometimes, even winning a game is not enough. Because one win is just that and he needs (wants?) to win it all, even though at the back of his mind, he knew that it wasn't possible. But to lose was also simply unacceptable.
No. It wasn't nerves that kept him up all night, all those times. It was anger. It was seething, helpless frustration at the realization, the brutal truth of his life: everything is planned around basketball season, the tournaments he had to play - high school, college, after college - it will never end and he'd always be spending the rest of his life shooting basket after basket, after basket, angry at himself, angry at his father, angry at his destiny.
When he met her, that changed. Everything changed.
Nathan feels her breath against his skin. Her eyes are closed. Her lips slightly parted. An innocent, silent invitation that's enough to fill him with warmth all the way down to the base of his spine. Her brown hair is tousled, curling against her shoulder blades that he wants so desperately to kiss but she looks too precious, too vulnerable, so he keeps his distance, afraid to disturb her peaceful slumber.
He loves watching her sleep. Every time he does this, he'd fall in love with her all over again. Every night, every morning. That's how he knew it. That's how he understood what it feels to love. To really, really love. The kind that even her softest sighs would always make his heart ache in ways he never thought was possible.
And he likes that kind of ache too. It's painful but it makes everything real, because sometimes, he'd find himself wondering if he's just dreaming, if he just conjured her up: the perfect girl, his wife.
How could he have gotten so blessed to have Haley as his wife?
His wife.
It still surprises him and that the little jolt of pleasant surprise, well, he likes that too.
There wouldn't be a day in his life when he'd ever stop wondering if he's good enough for her. Maybe someday. After all, it has been proven how positive an influence Haley had been in his life. He'll keep on trying to be the best and only guy for her. He'll work hard on that, because he knows that he's capable of doing really stupid things, things that could drive her away from him and this scares him shitless. Scares him like he's never before but he's going to do everything he can to keep her because if he lose Haley, he'd be lossing everything.
And he'd never let that happen.
Haley shifts in her sleep, curling around herself, her closed fist resting against her chest. He glances down at her hand, sees the wedding ring on her finger and an overwhelming sense of completeness fills him. His heart aches a little bit more and he feels his lips curling up.
"What are you smiling about?"
Startled by the sleepy voice breaking the silence, Nathan lazily reaches out to pull her in his arms and Haley immediately settles into him, her body pressed against him. Warm and gentle, her scent surrounding him. He tightens his hold on her, nuzzling his nose against her neck before finally dropping his head and sucking on that shoulder blade he had been fantasizing about just seconds ago.
"Nothin'." He murmurs the word against her skin and he hears her sighing softly, angling her head so he could better access her –
"Nathan, it's three in the morning." Haley informs him in a gently chiding voice.
Well, maybe she needed to check the time first before giving him better access to the graceful arch of her neck. "Can't sleep. Big game tomorrow."
She pulls away a little, meeting his eyes. "Don't you mean later tonight?"
He chuckles softly, his hands going underneath her shirt, palm resting against the small of her back, his thumb tracing her tattoo. The soft sigh she's making tells him that she's enjoying the attention. He already knows that though. If he lets his fingernails ever so light graze her skin, she'd start purring like a playful little kitten. He does it just to hear her and she doesn't disappoint him.
His wife is fucking sexy as hell.
Nathan moves his hand higher, following the line of her spine. He hasn't mapped out her whole body yet, but he remembers all her senstive parts. He has it catalogue inside his head.
"Mmmhhhhmm," Haley half purrs, half moans. "I've wondered about that, you know," she tells him, stretching against him, pushing her chest against him. "Why you're suddenly turned into an insomniac every time there's a," she pauses to wiggle out of his embrace, "big game." She states this with air quotes, which he finds ridiculously cute.
"Old habit." Nathan quickly states, but he pauses after a second, reconsidering this statement. Grinning at her, he raises his eyebrow, meeting her eyes. "Well, new old habit."
Haley mimics his raised eyebrows. Intrigued by his statement. She likes to play coy too, so she doesn't ask him outright. Instead, she re-wraps her arms around him, inching her face closer. Close enough to tempt him silly into kissing her.
Nathan holds back, or tries to. Not sure how long he can keep himself from literally jumping her.
"You aren't feeling nervous, are you?" Haley asks, her fingers weaving through his short hair. For some strange reason, she finds his hair fascinating. And Nathan sure isn't complaining.
"'Course not." He answers smugly before bending his head and gently nipping at the skin just beneath her collar bone. Haley arches her back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him down so he's half sprawled on top of her.
"Then why are you still up? You should be getting as much rest as you can."
"''M busy." Nathan is mumbling the words as he keeps dropping little kisses all across her exposed skin.
He hears her soft snort, which is also cute, by the way. "Doing what?" Her playful, half-sleepy voice is even cuter.
"Watching you sleep." He tells her matter of factly. It's the truth anyway, he isn't just trying to please her or anything like that. So what if it sounds incredibly sappy and pansy-assed, he'll never get tired of seeing her face when she's asleep. She looks impossibly younger, her features gentler, fuller and it he feels as thought he's seeing a part of her that only the people closest to her have seen and will ever get to see.
Counting her family, it's a pretty short list. Just him and Lucas, probably. Although Lucas would have probably missed admiring her the way he would often admire her. Not that Lucas should, by the way.
Haley scrunches up her face, twisting her lips a little. A small displeased pout. "Why?"
Ah, always the curious little cat. Or bobcat. His Haley bobcat. He's pleased with the new nickname he has for her. He'll save it for later and see how she reacts to that. Haley doesn't want to be called "cute". She thinks being called that is tantamount (tantamount, being her exact term) to comparing her to a puppy. She refuses to aknowledge that in some ways, she is just like a puppy. Totally adorable.
"I'm a tiger." She told him once, crawling on top of him as he lay sprawled on the bed. She then pounced on him and of course, since this is Haley, promptly falls off the bed. He remembered his heart stopping and jumping into his throat, afraid that she had hurt herself. He had quickly jumped down and found her clutching at her side, giggling like crazy. Adorable. Nathan isn't sure why Haley can't see that.
"He-looo Nathan." Haley is tugging at the waistband of his boxers and this is enough to snap him back to attention.
"'Cause I want to." He answers in a gravelly, dark voice.
Haley smirks at him. "That's not a good reason, Nathan." She tells him this, in wife-y tone, letting go of his boxers and smiling in satisfaction at the audible snapping sound as garter met skin. "You'll be tired later." Haley continues, not missing a beat, ignoring the predatory look Nathan is sure he's already wearing. "I don't want you being a sleepy, slow poke on the court. It's not fun cheering for you when you aren't all sweaty."
Returning the smirk she had just given him, Nathan deftly twists his body, turning them over so she's completely underneath him with just a blink of an eye. "Slow poke, huh?"
Haley giggles as he starts ticking her. "Na-Nathan, s-s-stop." Her laughter fills the room, echoing all around him.
Smiling at the sound of her laughter, Nathan leans down, the tip of their noses almost touching. Haley looks up into his eyes as he cups her face, tilting it up. "I'm busy watching you sleep and falling in love with you all over again."
Haley flushes and he feels the heat rising off from her body. "Ah. You're being charming. You must want something."
Pressing into her hips, his hands sliding from her back, into her side and resting on her abdomen. "Hales, baby, I love how well you know me."
"Nathan, hello, you're a guy." She tells him rolling her eyes, "You aren't that hard to figure out and, you're not exactly being subtle." The last part was mumbled shyly and she's so adorable when she gets like this. Before he can say something to rile her up, she beat him to it, reminding him that, "We can't. Not before a big game. Don't want to tire you out." Haley looks serious enough, but Nathan can clearly see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"I think I can still manage to win the game tonight." He answers with a shrug.
"Confident much?" She winks up at him, wiggling and moving her body against him.
Nathan flashes Haley a feral, little grin. "Oh, you know it."
Haley beams up at him as she wraps her legs around his waist. Nathan immediately groans out loud. Although he loves bantering with Haley, he loves kissing her more. And without any warning, he crushes his lips against her, surprising her a little. The little "O" of surprise is enough to grant his tongue access into her mouth and he kisses her with everything he has, everything he's feeling for her right now. The love. The need. The want. The burning, burning desire.
Nathan pulls back when the pain in his lung has become too unbearable. He rests his forehead against her, watching as Haley lazily smiles up at him, running her tongue against her swollen-kissed lips, her eyes still closed. "Mhhhmm."
"Hales." His voice cracks at the intensity of his feelings but he doesn't care. He wants her now, so bad.
She slowly opens her brown eyes, alight with passion and love – all for him, all because of him and Nathan feels as though he has won the game.
"Well, since you're already, uhm, up…" Nathan eagerly moves for another kiss but Haley stops him, "But if you get yelled at by Whitey tonight at the game, you don't get to blame me."
Chuckling softly, Nathan shakes his head before moving to cradle Haley's head, weaving his fingers on her hair, his thumb resting against her cheeks. He feels his heart madly dancing inside his chest and he can bet that she feels it too. The smile she's giving him confirms it. He drops a small, sweet, chaste kiss on her cheeks and then on her forhead before finally moving into her mouth, asking her softly, wanting her, needing her to know. "Do you know how much I love you?"
Haley's eyes darken as she bites her lips. "Show me." Haley tells him in a low, smoky voice.
And Nathan didn't need another invitation.
Gently kissing her, Nathan thinks this is so much better than shooting baskets alone in the backyard.
-end-
