A/N: I am SOSOSOSOSOSO sorry I haven't updated! My comp. decided to fail on me and we had to get it fixed. And I was SWAMPED with homework. (Damn me for being so smart and getting into accelerated history!) But I'm back now. (Grins) Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for reviewing! Eleven reviews for one chapter, my non-existent heart will explode with love for you all! I WOULD have more reviews but NOOOOOOOOOOO! Some fucktard decided to report me. Pussy. But ANYWHROE, thanks so much to the sweeties who reviewed. I love you all. I really do.
A/N- the sequel: Okie dokies, this chapter is based on the song by Franz Ferdinand called, "Michael." If anyone wants to view the lyrics, they can be found here: http: love FF. Download that song; it's awesomeness in a can!) Anywhore, I decided that I should make a song-fic chapter to this song. Yes, I am aware that this is 1965, and Franz Ferdinand wasn't around then. It's called, "artistic license." Please read and review! And, BTW, Bryon is the main character from, "That was Then, this is Now." He went out with Angela for a while. This is pre-Outsiders; roughly a year or so.
Warning: This chapter has explicit M/M. That means detailed Boy on Boy action! ( Well, they kiss but…) If you are very squeamish and/or homophobic, HIT THE BACK BUTTONON YOUR BROWSER NOW! Liz is NOT very fond of getting reviews like this: oMg, WtF, tIm AnD dAlLy ArE lYkE SoOosoOo NoT gAy!1111 DaLlYzZ mYnE!111 (Granted, I've never gotten a review like that before, but whatever.)
Disclaimer: Tim, Dally and the rest belong to S.E. Hinton. Alicia and all characters that you don't recognize belong to Liz and Tree-Huggers Inc. © All rights reserved. "Michael," belongs to the genius that is Franz Ferdinand.
"Hey, Tim, Buck Merrill's having a party on Saturday. Wanna go?" It was early Thursday morning and Tim was sitting bleary eyed at the kitchen table. Curly was leaning back in his seat with the morning paper in his lap. He was checking to see if his friend was mentioned for knifing some drunken Mexican. Tim looked slowly up at his younger brother. It was three days ago Tim had found Curly passed out at the table, surrounded by beer bottles. It was surprising that he'd recovered so fast. But then, Curly was a hardy drinker.
"Give me back my fucking shirt before I rip your fucking head off!" Angela was sprinting after Alicia. Angel's face was red and she looked seriously pissed, while Alicia was looking mildly amused.
"Catch me if you can!" She crowed, looking over her shoulder. Said shirt was tight and black and went just above her belly button. Angela glared at her.
"I fucking hate you." Angela growled.
Alicia ignored her. "So, Curl, what did I hear about Buck having a party?"
"Buck Merrill's havin' a party." Curly repeated.
"Ah. I'm goin'. Wanna come with me, Angel?" Alicia grinned at her sister. "I hear that Bryon kid's gonna be there."
"I'm not goin' with you until you give me back my shirt."
Alicia sighed and rolled her dark eyes. "Fine." She pulled the shirt off, revealing a black bra, and went back upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned, now in green. "Are you ready to go now, Angel?"
Angela smirked. "Let's go to the center of torture and boredom. And, ah, hell, Ali, I'll go to the party with you, too. Just because you're my sister and I love you."
"Angel, the only thing you love is yourself." Alicia snapped.
"Now, class, I have your costumes all ready for the play. Remember, Thanksgiving is only a month away, so you need to practice your lines at home as well. I'm counting on you all." Miss Narwin beamed at the class. She was standing at the front of the room with two huge boxes next to her. One box was labeled, "pilgrim," and the other, "Indian." "When I call your name, come up and get your costume." She grabbed a brown Pilgrim costume out of the box next to her with a piece of paper attached to it. "Sarah King," she called. "Evan Michaels…"
Twelve minutes and seventeen costumes later, Miss Narwin pulled out the last Pilgrim costume. It was very pretty, rich brown with a crisp, white apron, shiny black shoes and a matching cap. All the other Pilgrim girls had just a plain light brown dress with no apron, hat or shoes. "Rose Keller, this costume was made especially for you. Since you're the star, you have to look like the lovely star that I know you will be."
"Thank you, Miss Narwin. I appreciate it ever so much." Rose simpered.
Angela gave a fake cough that sounded oddly like, "Kiss up!"
Miss Narwin beamed at Rose as she pulled the Indian box to her. She withdrew a pair of plain, buckskin pants and a matching shirt. Looking at the paper, she said, "Lukas DeVerto." She grabbed another, looked at the piece of attached paper and called, "Erik Miller…"
It was five minutes to the bell and Miss Narwin had given everyone their costumes but Alicia and Angela. The teacher pulled out two identical costumes: long, buckskin dresses and a matching headband. "Oh, you two will look absolutely darling, girls." Her grin was so large Alicia wondered why her face didn't crack in half.
"Thank you, Miss Narwin." Angela said, flashing her teacher a broad smile.
Curly was bored. He'd skipped school and was lying on the worn-out couch in the living room watching Bugs Bunny. In his left hand was a cigarette and in his right was a beer bottle. He sighed and threw the cigarette down and stood. No one was home. His sisters were both at school, his parents were at work and Tim was off somewhere. Curly thought of his older brother. He remembered that Tim said he wasn't going to be home until around four in the afternoon. Curly looked at his watch. It was one o'clock. He had three hours.
The younger Shepard brother dashed up the stairs. Running past Alicia and Angela's room, he went to Tim's room. The door was closed, and a sign hung on it saying, "Nobody cares, go fuck yourself." He turned the knob with shaking fingers, opened it and walked in, slowly.
Curly had been in his older brother's bedroom about three times in the past four years. Once when he was sick and his parents weren't home. Another time was with Angela when they were looking for his cigarette lighter. The third time, he was hiding from Alicia, who was seriously pissed off at him.
The room was small and dark. Tim's bed, on the opposite wall, was unmade and there was a pair of jeans on it. The closet door was open and clothes and other junk was falling out and there were clothes, papers and magazines strewn across the floor. The blinds were half-open and a little sunlight filtered through. A dresser stood in a corner and a few drawers were half-open.
Curly crept to the dresser. Carefully, he opened the top drawer. A few pairs of half-folded plaid boxers stared back at him. Curly grinned. He knew that Tim hid everything in his underwear drawer. He lifted the boxers out and carefully set them on the floor. Bingo.
Under the boxers was a pack of cigarettes, a switchblade, a Playboy magazine, a cigarette lighter and what seemed to be letters. There were three in all. With shaking fingers, he opened one of the letters.
Dear Dally, 4/26/65
I can't believe I'm writing this. I should be out banging chicks or jumping some hippies. Would you believe that I'm sitting in my room at two in the morning, almost completely sober without a chick in my bed? Would you believe that I don't like girls? Would you believe that I, Tim Shepard, like you as more than a friend? Neither would I, but I guess that's how life works, isn't it? I remember the first time I ever met you. You were only 13, I was 15. You were fighting off these jackasses from Brumley. It was you against five other guys. I stepped in and together we kicked the shit out of them. After we were done, you turned and almost smiled and said, "thanks." We've been friends ever since.
It feels so weird saying this. I sometimes get jealous of that Johnny kid, because you love him so much. I see him, all weak and helpless and then I see you with him. I feel like I want to kick his ass. I know that I couldn't, because then you'd hate me forever. I can't talk about this with Curly or my sisters. Curly wouldn't understand, Angela would laugh and Alicia would say that it's just a phase, or that I'm insane. I think that I am insane. After all, no other guy likes other guys like this. They're too afraid to. This one kid openly admitted that he was gay, and another kid beat the shit out of him.
I think I'll die without telling you that I love you. I'll grow up, get married to some broad, have kids, get drunk and die. She'll never be the one that I love, but she'll do. And you'll marry Sylvia, have kids, get drunk with me and die. And you'll never know that I love you. After all, it's not like I'm going to show this to you.
Love, Tim
Dear Dally, 6/04/65
Today we had a rumble with the Socs. Your gang and mine. You fought really well today. I guess that was because you were mad at Sylvia. She cheated on you, and who was there to tell you to leave her? Who was the one that took you to the bar and gave you all those beers? Who was the one to help you home? Me. And you know why I was there? 'Cause I'm the only one who cares. I'm the only one who gives more than two shits about you, Dally. And that's the way it's gonna go. That's how it's always gonna be. And, no matter what, Sylvia or no, I'm the only one who'll look after you.
Love, Tim
Dear Dally, 9/25/65
I seriously hope that you don't remember last night. I hope that I never forget it. It was great, but meaningless at the same time. You kissed me, but you were drunk. I took advantage of that. I'm sorry. I should have made you back off. But I didn't. I remember the feeling of your hands on me. I wanted to make that moment last. I was drunk, but had more of a grasp on reality at the time. We didn't talk much. But it wasn't a meaningless fuck at Buck's house either. It wasn't like fucking a chick, because you were stronger and you didn't do all that annoying mewling that chicks do. You were the more dominant one. If you do remember it, you'll never treat me the same again. But I'll remember that forever, even if you don't.
Love, Tim
Curly stared at the letters. He read and reread them. He had no idea… How was it possible that Tim, his older brother, someone he'd known his entire life, actually had feelings? Real, honest-to-God feelings. Feelings of love, actual love, no less? He couldn't believe it. Tim Shepard was in love with Dally. Curly had always dismissed it as an infatuation, but he never expected this. He had to show Angela and Alicia and see what they thought. Neither of them had ever been in love, but they were girls and they knew more on the subject than Curly did. He shoved the letters in his pants pocket and ran downstairs.
"Okay, you can have scenes four through eight, and I'll be scenes nine through thirteen, okay?" Angela pointed at the script.
"Right. I get the 'big' feast scene and make a big speech about how wonderful Rose is. Thanks, Angel."
Angela glared at her sister. "Gosh, I'm sorry, I just wanted to be nice and give you the big scene. My bad." Her voice was dripping in sarcasm.
"Well, one of us has to do it. Why can't it be you?"
"Because I don't want to."
Angela and Alicia were sitting on their living room floor. Tim was sprawled on the couch, watching the TV. He scowled at them, annoyed.
"I don't wanna do the feast scene, either! Why can't you do it?"
"Jesus Christ!" Tim jumped up. "How about I flip a coin and whoever loses has to do the feast scene!" He rolled his eyes. From his pocket, he pulled a nickel. "Okay, Ali, heads or tails?"
"Heads."
The coin flew into the air, flipping above their heads. "Let it hit the floor." Tim commanded. The coin landed.
"Heads!" Alicia called, triumphantly. Angela's face fell. Alicia punched the air with her fist. "Yes!"
Angela scowled. "Lucky chance. Best two out of three."
Alicia laughed, "No way, man! I won fair and square. Tough, Angel. You're shit outta luck." She giggled and punched her sister's arm. "Better start working on the speech about Rose."
As Alicia was celebrating her victory, Curly came downstairs. He ran up to Angela and grabbed her arm. She looked at him, annoyed and smacked his shoulder. "Don't you fucking touch me." She snapped.
"Angel, I need you for a second. You too, Ali."
"What for?"
Curly rolled his eyes. "Why the hell do you care? Now come on."
The sisters looked at each other and shrugged. "Whatever." Angela said as she began to follow him.
Curly led them into his bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, he tossed his sisters the letters that Tim would never send. "Read these in order." Angela picked up the one from April 26 and Alicia read over her shoulder. Alicia's mouth was slightly open as she read and her eyes were huge. Angela, however, had an unreadable expression. Her face looked both angry and sad. After ten minutes, they had read all three of the letters.
"Wow. Just fucking wow." Alicia said.
"I don't believe it. Tim, our brother, can actually feel."
Curly shrugged. "I feel bad for him. I mean, he's… gay, ya know? And people aren't gonna like that."
Alicia rolled her eyes. "Come off it, Curly. Tim can handle himself, you know that."
It was finally Saturday night. Angela and Alicia had spent the entire day wondering about who was going to be at the party, what they were going to wear and how they were going to get there. At 6:00, they were ready. Angela was wearing a tight, pink T-shirt and a short black skirt. Alicia had on a tight black shirt and a short red skirt. Angela looked at Curly who was sitting at the kitchen table smoking. "Aren't you going to come?"
"Nah, me and Candy broke up." Curly, for once, looked a little upset about breaking up with a girl. Normally, he would be in a rush to go to a party to find the first chick to bang.
"Curly, since when has breaking up with a girl been a problem for you?"
"I dunno. She was the first chick I've ever actually liked. And Tim…"
"And Tim what?" Tim was leaning against the doorframe, looking quite good in a pair of ripped jeans, a black shirt and a black leather jacket. His black curly hair fell in his eyes with a kind of casual elegance. A smirk played about his lips. There was no wonder that he brought some good-looking girl home with him pretty much every night.
Curly was taken aback at the sudden appearance of his older brother. "Er… and Tim'll be there to pick up all the pretty girls with his er… manliness."
Angela snorted and Alicia looked down at her feet, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Tim rolled his eyes. "Sure, Curly. You can stay here and drown you misery in beer and cigarettes, while Angel, Ali and me are at Buck's. Have fun." Tim turned around and walked out of the kitchen with Alicia and Angela behind him.
When the Shepards arrived at Buck Merrill's, the first thing they noticed were two people making out on the front porch. Tim pretended not to notice, Alicia made a face and Angela tapped the girl on the shoulder and whispered, "Get a room." Instead of knocking, Tim merely strode in. Shrugging, his sisters did the same.
All the furniture in Buck's living room had been pushed to the sides, making it a sort of dance floor. People were sitting in chairs or on couches, watching the people dancing. Beatles music was wailing from the stereos and people were nodding their heads to it.
Sitting on one of the chairs was a tall, husky, roguishly handsome boy with dark hair and eyes. "Oh, God, Ali. That's Bryon!" Angela squealed, pointing at him.
"So?"
"Come with me and say hi," pleaded Angela.
Alicia sighed. "Whatever."
Angela strutted over to him, her backside swinging. Alicia had to admit that her sister was very pretty. Her long, black hair shone in the light, she was very slender and had a movie-star face. Any boy would want her, even if it were just a one-night thing. Angela gave the Bryon kid a very flirty smile as she sat down next to him. "Hey, Bryon."
Bryon gave a start, looking surprised. "Oh, uh, hi, Angela. How are you?"
Angela got closer to him. "I'm fine. You?"
"Oh, I'm, er, great."
She placed her hand on his leg. Her face was about a foot from his. "Did you and Olivia break up again?"
He looked sad. "Yeah. Only this time it was permanent."
Angela had a very seductive look on her face. "I can help make you feel better, if you want me to." She pressed her mouth on his and her arms wrapped around him. Alicia turned her head away. She wasn't really in the mood to see her sister and some random guy groping each other. Instead, she focused on the dance floor.
Dally was dancing with a very pretty blonde girl that Alicia didn't know, but assumed was Sylvia. The girl was pressing her breasts up against Dally and he kept touching her lower back. But Dally's eyes kept glancing in the opposite direction. Alicia's eyes followed to the same spot where Dally was looking. Leaning against the wall with a bottle of beer was Tim. Tim's black eyes were resting on Dally, and his dark hair was falling in his eyes. He brushed it away and gave Dally a small smile. Dally almost smiled back. He said something to Sylvia and then went to Tim.
Dally had been dancing with Sylvia for the past hour. She was very good-looking and was, overall, pretty decent, but he wasn't romantically attracted to her. When Tim showed up, it was like a famous move star had come. Tim was looking especially good tonight: ripped jeans, black shirt and leather jacket. He turned to Sylvia and looked into her gorgeous blue-green eyes and said, "I'm gonna go talk to Tim, okay, baby?"
Sylvia smiled coyly. "Sure, Dally. Come back, though, okay?"
Dally weaved his way through the crowd. A new song was playing on the stereo.
This is where I'll be
So heavenly
So come and dance with me, Michael
Dally reached Tim. The older boy acknowledged him by nodding. Dally remembered the night when he'd kissed Tim. He was partially drunk, but so was Tim. He remembered Tim's hands in his hair, his arms around him… Dally shook his head.
So Sexy, I'm sexy
so come and dance with me Michael
I'm all that you see, you want to see
came and dance with me Michael
"Hey." Tim half-smiled. He lit a cigarette and handed it to Dally.
"Thanks." Dally took it and stuck it in his mouth.
"Who's that your with?" Tim nodded to Sylvia, who was putting the moves on another kid.
"Oh, that's Sylvia. I'm not really dating her, but… yeah." Dally broke off, uncomfortably.
"Oh. She's pretty cute."
"Not as cute as you." Dally covered his mouth with his hands. The words had slipped out before he could stop them. Oh, shit. Oh shitty shit shit, motherfucking hell, damn, fuck!
So close now your so close now
come and dance with me
come and dance with me
So come and dance with me
Tim laughed. "Thanks." He ran a hand through his dark hair.
Dally looked at him with a kind of determined air. "I mean it, you know. You are better looking than her."
Michael you're the boy with all the leather hips
Sticky hair, sticky hips stubble on my sticky lips
Michael your the only one I ever want only one I ever want only one I ever want
Again, Tim chuckled. "Thanks, Dal."
"Tim? Do you remember anything about this one night here?"
"I remember a lot of nights here, Dally. When?"
"Uh, about a month ago… We were both drunk and… er… I kissed you and…"
Tim looked at him, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Why?"
"I was thinking if I meant anything by it and you meant anything by it and…."
Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor
Michael your dancing like a beautiful dance-whore
Michael waiting on a Silver platter now
and nothing matters now
"And what if I did mean something by it?"
"Then I would tell you if I meant something by it."
Tim was silent a moment. Then he said, "I did, Dal. I meant everything by it."
This is what I am I am a man so come and dance with me Michael
Dally's face seemed to glow. He leaned against the wall by Tim and whispered, "so did I."
So strong now it's strong now
so come and dance with me Michael
I'm all that you'll be you'll ever see
So come and dance with me Michael
Tim's hand inched along the wall before it found Dally's. He grasped it, and their fingers intertwined. Dally leaned his head next to Tim's. "Let's get outa here," he murmured.
So close now You're close now
Come and dance with me come and dance with me So come and dance with me!
Tim grinned. Freeing his hand from Dally's, they ran upstairs. They ran down the hall until they found an empty bedroom. Dally flung the door open and pressed Tim up against the wall. He crushed his lips against Tim's and wrapped his arms around him. Tim moaned against Dally's mouth and wound his arms around Dally's neck, grabbing a handful of blonde hair.
Michael you're the boy with the leather hips sticky hair sticky lips stubble on my sticky hips
Dally freed his mouth from Tim's and he pressed his lips against Tim's rough cheek. Kissing his way down Tim's cheek to the older boy's neck, he nibbled the soft skin.
Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor Michael you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore
Michael waiting on a silver platter now
and nothing matters now!
nothing matters now nothing matters now and nothing matters now
Tim groaned and pushed Dally off, throwing him on the bed. He jumped on top of Dally and straddled the younger boy's with his knees. Dally fought his way to Tim's mouth again. He kissed him deeply and worked his tongue through Tim's lips. Tim nipped at Dally's lower lip and broke away, smiling. It was one of the first times Dally had ever seen him really smile. Dally grinned back and put his arms around Tim. He pulled the older boy against the pillows and they kissed again, before closing their eyes.
Michael you're the boy with the leather hips sticky hair sticky lips stubble on my sticky lips Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor
Michael you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore
Michael waiting on a silver platter now...
and nothing matters now!
As Tim listened to the last lyric of the song, he knew it was true. Looking at Dally's sleeping form, nothing mattered to him now. Nothing except Dally.
Alicia had seen her brother go upstairs with Dally. When Angela returned from wherever the hell she'd gone with Bryon, Alicia told her.
"Really? They went upstairs together and everything?"
"Yep. Well, we'd better get going. It's gonna be a long walk home."
"We're walking?"
"Yeah. Tim's too busy to give us a ride."
A/N: (Pants) That was a fucking long one! Hopefully that will satisfy you till I can get chapter 9 up. And I seriously hope that it wasn't too OOC of Tim to write the letters. But he had no one to talk to! (Hugs Angsty!Tim) Please review! Also, it's my spring break, so expect another chapter soon. (i.e. I'll try to get it up before Friday.)