Fic: Swim Out (Friday Night Lights)
swim out; jason/tim/lyla, g, 250 words (spoilers for ep 2.5)
For stainofmylove's prompt one act of kindness could be deathly.
~
How rough the water. It pulls and leans and the great leap he was able to make by closing his fingers-look, I couldn't do this before and now I can-it seems like the ocean and the current took it and now all he hears, if not the cries that carry nowhere, is laughter.
(Dillon gathers by a bright pool in summer when rally girls climb to the shoulders of football players; when he would dive in full of stealth and lift Lyla from beneath, his grin and her laughter; Riggins' holler from the shallows, you call that a tackle, Jay? and he can't see for the slap as the water rolls and suddenly his girl's got two of the Panther's finest carrying her high, and she looks about ready to read their death warrant-
and she kisses him, pushes Tim away,
and Jason swims because it's hotter than hell out and sometime, not now, sometime he'll drag himself out of the water and go hunt that dumbass down for getting Lyla's pretty hair all wet.)
Jason makes a fist, let's it go. He closes his eyes and kicks into surf.
He can't.
(He can't.)
They'll go on. They'll cry a bit and get drunk and forget and remember each other and only pieces, only sad little pieces of their friend will surface. His girl and his buddy, tragic and clichéd and as beautiful as sin.
How rough the water. How deep and cruel the two words you won't.
For stainofmylove's prompt one act of kindness could be deathly.
~
How rough the water. It pulls and leans and the great leap he was able to make by closing his fingers-look, I couldn't do this before and now I can-it seems like the ocean and the current took it and now all he hears, if not the cries that carry nowhere, is laughter.
(Dillon gathers by a bright pool in summer when rally girls climb to the shoulders of football players; when he would dive in full of stealth and lift Lyla from beneath, his grin and her laughter; Riggins' holler from the shallows, you call that a tackle, Jay? and he can't see for the slap as the water rolls and suddenly his girl's got two of the Panther's finest carrying her high, and she looks about ready to read their death warrant-
and she kisses him, pushes Tim away,
and Jason swims because it's hotter than hell out and sometime, not now, sometime he'll drag himself out of the water and go hunt that dumbass down for getting Lyla's pretty hair all wet.)
Jason makes a fist, let's it go. He closes his eyes and kicks into surf.
He can't.
(He can't.)
They'll go on. They'll cry a bit and get drunk and forget and remember each other and only pieces, only sad little pieces of their friend will surface. His girl and his buddy, tragic and clichéd and as beautiful as sin.
How rough the water. How deep and cruel the two words you won't.