fic: Stop Thinking
Title: Stop Thinking
Pairing: Matt/Lyla
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They both think too much and only one thing can stop it.
A/N: written for the writer's block meme ( here)
If he had to admit it, he'd say that he had never given her much thought. Well no, that might be a lie. How many times had he watched her from the sidelines cheering on Jason and Tim? They were the trifecta. Jason, Tim, and Lyla. He was only the backup QB, dutifully practicing but knowing he had no hope of ever really playing. Sometimes he wondered what it must have been like to be Jason Street and have the perfect girlfriend in Lyla Garrity.
Then it all had changed in a split second.
But that didn't matter now. He's here in Chicago, living a poor artist's life. It's certainly no Dillon and the last time he had a friend from home visit was when Landry used Julie's plane ticket. And now, Lyla is coming.
He had been surprised when he got the phone call from her, asking if she could stay at his place a few nights while she interviewed for internships in Chicago. He said yes before he could really think about his answer and only when he hung up the phone, he realized the magnitude of his response.
Shit
When she had arrived, he nervously apologized for the state of his apartment and that the only accomodation available was a pull out couch. But he had said he would sleep on the floor. But she wouldn't have that and insisted they could share the pull out couch as it had been big enough for the both of them.
And now, he's lying on his back, his eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. He's too scared to move, lest he accidentally brushes up against her. He's not sure about her status with Tim and he hadn't really wanted to ask earlier. All he knows is that Tim's still in jail for the chop shop thing, thanks to his few connections still in Dillon. He wonders if it might have ended because they ultimately had two different paths.
"Do you think that this was perhaps God's plan?" Lyla's soft voice cuts through the quiet.
"What do you mean?"
"That we'd end up here," she says and she turns to her side to face him.
He closes his eyes for a long second before he too turns to his side. "I...still don't know what you mean exactly." His words are measured and careful, not wanting to upset any delicate balance that might have been forged between them.
She gives him a small smile as she reaches for him, taking hold of one of his hands. "I think you do."
He studies her, sees beyond the calm facade she's put up. There's a hint of sadness in her eyes and he wonders if he should ask about it. Wonders if it has to do with Tim, maybe her dad. But then his brain can only concentrate on her small hand gripping his firmly and he sighs.
"I don't think..."
She shushes him as she lets go of his hand and places a finger over his lips. "No more thinking. I think we both do too much of that." She smoothly climbs on top of him, her legs straddling him and her long dark hair falling forward as she leans over. There's a strange look on her face, one he can't quite place.
He opens his mouth to say something but before anything comes out, her mouth is on his. The kiss is almost desperate, like she's trying her best to keep him from saying something, keep him from bringing her crashing back to reality. It's like his body betrays him the way he responds to her touch. His hands grip her waist and he almost lets out a groan as she grinds down on him.
But he stops his thinking.
Pairing: Matt/Lyla
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They both think too much and only one thing can stop it.
A/N: written for the writer's block meme ( here)
If he had to admit it, he'd say that he had never given her much thought. Well no, that might be a lie. How many times had he watched her from the sidelines cheering on Jason and Tim? They were the trifecta. Jason, Tim, and Lyla. He was only the backup QB, dutifully practicing but knowing he had no hope of ever really playing. Sometimes he wondered what it must have been like to be Jason Street and have the perfect girlfriend in Lyla Garrity.
Then it all had changed in a split second.
But that didn't matter now. He's here in Chicago, living a poor artist's life. It's certainly no Dillon and the last time he had a friend from home visit was when Landry used Julie's plane ticket. And now, Lyla is coming.
He had been surprised when he got the phone call from her, asking if she could stay at his place a few nights while she interviewed for internships in Chicago. He said yes before he could really think about his answer and only when he hung up the phone, he realized the magnitude of his response.
Shit
When she had arrived, he nervously apologized for the state of his apartment and that the only accomodation available was a pull out couch. But he had said he would sleep on the floor. But she wouldn't have that and insisted they could share the pull out couch as it had been big enough for the both of them.
And now, he's lying on his back, his eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. He's too scared to move, lest he accidentally brushes up against her. He's not sure about her status with Tim and he hadn't really wanted to ask earlier. All he knows is that Tim's still in jail for the chop shop thing, thanks to his few connections still in Dillon. He wonders if it might have ended because they ultimately had two different paths.
"Do you think that this was perhaps God's plan?" Lyla's soft voice cuts through the quiet.
"What do you mean?"
"That we'd end up here," she says and she turns to her side to face him.
He closes his eyes for a long second before he too turns to his side. "I...still don't know what you mean exactly." His words are measured and careful, not wanting to upset any delicate balance that might have been forged between them.
She gives him a small smile as she reaches for him, taking hold of one of his hands. "I think you do."
He studies her, sees beyond the calm facade she's put up. There's a hint of sadness in her eyes and he wonders if he should ask about it. Wonders if it has to do with Tim, maybe her dad. But then his brain can only concentrate on her small hand gripping his firmly and he sighs.
"I don't think..."
She shushes him as she lets go of his hand and places a finger over his lips. "No more thinking. I think we both do too much of that." She smoothly climbs on top of him, her legs straddling him and her long dark hair falling forward as she leans over. There's a strange look on her face, one he can't quite place.
He opens his mouth to say something but before anything comes out, her mouth is on his. The kiss is almost desperate, like she's trying her best to keep him from saying something, keep him from bringing her crashing back to reality. It's like his body betrays him the way he responds to her touch. His hands grip her waist and he almost lets out a groan as she grinds down on him.
But he stops his thinking.