A/N: Promised myself I would update this, so I did. Here it is the fifth installation of "Passing the Holidays." Only this time, it's Tim's 18th birthday! (Liz and Kelly burst into a rendition of 'Happy Birthday'… to the tune of 'The Phantom of the Opera') Anywhoodle, enjoy… But, first, the disclaimer! Yay disclaimers! (Note: at the end, there are more reviewer commenty-thingies.)
Disclaimer: Erm, I don't own anything. I'm just a sad sixteen-year-old who, as my mother so lovingly puts it 'has too much time on her hands.'
Tim lies on his bed and tries not to listen to the raging poker game downstairs. He knows exactly how it's going to end: Curly will cheat, Alicia will get pissed at him, end up hitting him, Curly's friends will side with either one of them, Alicia's friends will side with her, and it'll end up being a brawl. That's how games generally are in their house.
"Curly, that's bullshit! You have the fucking ace up your fucking sleeve!" Tim hears Alicia's voice rise.
"No I don't, Alicia! Ow, leggo of my arm! Fuck, you ripped it! Fuck, you ripped 'em both!"
Alicia's voice is borderline hysterical now. "You had an ace and a king!" She hates cheaters.
"C'mon, Curly, you promised you wouldn't cheat." That was one of Curly's friends, and he sounded more than a little angry. This is going to be one of the times when Curly's friends side with Alicia. It usually didn't happen like that, but it was bound to tonight.
Normally, when Tim would play, he would side with Curly, even if he knows Curly's wrong. He doesn't know why he does this, he just does. But today he doesn't feel like playing because he feels sort of sad. He doesn't know why, but he does. It's his birthday, why should he feel like this? He's eighteen and he's an adult and can buy cigarettes and skin mags without using a fake I.D., so why did he feel like everything was going downhill? He feels sick and worried and tired and he has a headache and it doesn't help that there's screaming downstairs.
After a few moments, he can't take it anymore, or he'll kill someone. So he stands and nearly starts running downstairs. He passes Curly and Alicia yelling at each other, over the dining room table, with Angela and everyone else watching in mild interest. He just needs to get away.
As he pushes open the front door, he realizes that no one hears him. Of course, Alicia and Curly spoke about five times louder than normal people, and when they yell, they're almost deafening. And maybe Tim's glad that no one hears him, because he doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he doesn't want to talk to anyone. Instead, he starts to run down the street. Running wasn't one of Tim's talents, because he never partook in sports, and the smoking didn't help, either. So he just slows down after a few minutes and starts to walk.
It's nearly been twenty minutes, and Tim's on his third cigarette. He takes a long drag, and lets the fact that he'd eighteen settle over him. Replaying the day over in his mind, he realizes that the only person in his entire immediate family that had acknowledged the fact that it was his birthday was Curly. That did not bode well with him, because Curly was the stupidest and most forgetful person Tim ever met.
Maybe that's why he feels depressed. He feels like he's been forgotten, like suddenly, because he's a legal adult, he has to take care of himself and everyone else was ignoring him for that reason. Not that Tim would mind taking care of himself, because he's naturally independent, if he did say so himself.
He keeps walking and smoking and brooding, when he hears something behind him. Not really paying attention, he shrugs it off as a stray animal. When he hears it again, he's a little more afraid, because he knows that Jack Brumley was more than a little pissed at him for 'cheating' at pool. Then he feels two arms slowly snaking around his waist, and he tenses, thinking it's Brumley planning to beat the shit out of him. But the voice that whispers in his ear isn't Jack's. It's softer and almost gentle, and when Tim hears it, he relaxes against the embrace.
"Hey," the voice says. It's Dally's voice. Tim lets his head fall backwards onto Dally's shoulder.
"Hey," he murmurs, and kisses Dally's neck.
There's no one around, so Dally slides a hand up Tim's shirt and trails his fingers over Tim's stomach, when the older boy pulls away. "We've gotta get outta here," he whispers.
Dallas looks confused. "Why?"
"Jack's pissed as fuck at me. Bastard thinks I cheated at pool and he wants to kick my ass."
"Did you cheat?" Dally asks, knowing better than anyone that Tim doesn't cheat. It's one of the few honest things he does.
Tim snorts. "No. He thinks me and Curly are more or less the same fucking person."
Dally laughs and takes Tim's elegant, beautiful hand in his clumsy, stupid one and they walk down the street. Tim's legs are longer, but he walks more slowly, as though savoring the moment, when Dally walks quickly, like he's trying to keep the time going. So Dally practically drags Tim down the street, and Tim laughs and pulls him back and soon they bumble down the street together, hand in hand.
When they reach Tim's house, the two run upstairs, unnoticed by anyone. Alicia and Curly are still fighting, and everyone is ganging up on Curly. Normally, Tim would help his brother, but now he knows that it's one of those times when Curly has to fight for himself. Not that that will be a problem, of course, because Curly is a fighter.
They reach Tim's bedroom, and Dally presses Tim against the wall. He kisses Tim, and for once Tim's not thinking about anything but it. He just lets himself sort of melt into the kiss. There's yelling downstairs, and Alicia screams something about 'ten times in a row!' but he doesn't listen. He ignores the fact that his house is full and he's about to have sex with his boyfriend, because he's eighteen, and he should be able to make his own choices about who he sleeps with.
He knows that no one will hear them, considering Alicia's screaming. And they're so in sync and so together and Tim never wants this to end. He just wants to stay in this moment forever and never have to leave or anything. Just to live in this moment and this time and this place.
When they're done, Tim stays awake and watches Dally sleep. He remembers once someone said that when people sleep, they look more innocent. Dally doesn't really look innocent, he looks younger and more vulnerable. Tim reaches out and runs a hand through Dally's pale hair. He loves Dally's hair, because it's nice and blond and thin, compared to his rough and thick and hard to maintain curls.
Tim lies down next to him, and watches the steady rise and fall of Dally's chest as he breathes. Dally doesn't twitch in his sleep like Curly does, nor does he make sighing noises like Angela and Alicia. He sleeps silently and Tim likes that. Tim closes his eyes and breathes in Dally's scent, and, for a moment, he is utterly and completely happy. It's like a moment of peace, and he loves it.
A/N: Eh, not as fond of this chapter as I could have been. But, whatever.
llefay- LOL, I think everybody hates the name game. I had a volleyball camp this summer that made us do that (that's where I got the inspiration from) and I said, 'I'm Liz and I like lemurs and lemons.' Anyways, thank you!
Hahukum Konn- Aw, thanks. I'm rather pleased with the 'cuteness' parts in this fic, because I'm more of an angst-type whore. (Just look at freakin' 'On the East Side!') I just wanted something light 'n' fluffy.
taste of fire- Thanks! (Hugs)
Trogdor the Burninater- First, I love your name. (Why does it make me laugh so much?) Second, thank you! I had this sort of... craving to write fluff, and it just sort of happened.