[FIC] (Basketball) But They Forgot
Title: But They Forgot
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Steve Nash/Dirk Nowitzki (PHO/DAL)
DISCLAIMER: This fiction does not represent the basketball players in real life. All resemblances are coincidences and nothing else.
Notes: Yes, I finished, only because people posted today/night/whatever and I kicked myself to finish this. Ugh. ughuguhghgughguhiadf. :) ::stabs:: (and I didn't read this over, sorry) and um, I suck at dialogue, so there's none. ha.
Extra Notes: Written for sslyricwheel's challenge theme - Around the World, originally posted here. And translated into Russian here.
1.
I have a premonition that the end is near.
They were away, alone, in a country that only one of them was familiar with. They were asleep, in separated room in case his parents would give them a surprise visit at night. Not that it was going to happen, but you know, just in case (they were fucking adults, grown ups).
Dirk slept in his own room while Steve slept in the guest bedroom, in Dirk’s parents’ house, in a city, in Germany. It was only temporary, there was something wrong with Dirk’s house, and had no choice but to take shelter in the only place they knew would let them stay.
Dirk tossed and turned in his bed, unused to the absence of the lump (well a lump named Steve) that usually sleep beside him. He kicked off the comforter off the bed out of frustration and grabbed his pillow and quietly slipped down to the guestroom. He gently pushed open the door to Steve’s room and saw that Steve was in deep slumber and loudly snoring, so he quickly closed the door to avoid anymore necessary noise out the door.
Dirk had trouble sleeping for the past while, namely after they were out of the playoffs. Steve’s contract was up and he was bothered by the fact that Steve hadn’t given much thought into it. They were always a possibility that some team might come along with a juicy contract and take Steve away from him. From everything he had known since he left his home to pursuit his dream.
Instead of slipping into bed with Steve, Dirk left the room and sat in front of the computer screen. He couldn’t bear to read the articles printed anymore. Everywhere he went there was talk about Steve leaving the team, his side, even though Steve hadn’t said anything about it. And there was nothing Dirk could do to stop Steve. It would be the right thing for Dirk to do (letting Steve go), only because it was the right thing to do (not because he wanted to).
2.
And I only want our good moments from yesterday.
Dirk and Steve used to go on road trips during summer when neither of them wanted to go home. It was another year of disappointment and struggles. They would never be good enough, would they? Steve would be the one driving since neither of them trusted Dirk’s driving skills. They would drive in the desert heat of Texas to middle of no-fucking-where until they got hungry, where they would stop and grab a bite, then drove again. Yeah, driving down a straight road with barely any other cars on either side of the freeway was a good way to drown out their misery (or so they thought at first). They would stop when the sun went out, find any decent enough place to stay, do their thing, and leave the first thing in the morning. The silence between them was enough to make them forget.
There was always next year (and another disappointment and another road trip and another).
3.
There never was evilness. Only naivety.
Awkwardness was ensured. A scrawny German kid who still wasn’t sure if his limbs would be attached to his body if he moved ever-so-slightly and a short Canadian kid still in the unnatural-dyed hair phase (who is really short no matter how tall he might claim he was) were going to be the future of the Mavericks. They were the laughing stock in the league. Dirk couldn’t stand the media hounding on his back (Are you sure he’s the right kid for this?) and Steve was still trying to prove that a kid like him could be in the league (Canadian, short, scrawny, right.). So they found each other, not because there was some magical spark between them, but because they had no one else to confine their fears in.
They stuck together, they did everything together, and they became Dirk and Steve, Nowitzki and Nash, best friends to the end no matter what.
They all said they were to be just like Malone and Stockton.
4.
I am tired of making excuses that don't work.
Dirk sat in front of his TV set, in his house, in Germany. So they won, he only absentminded acknowledged the fact that he had done it, while himself was at home kicking himself everyday and wondering what went wrong. He told himself he ought to call Steve and congratulate him but really, he couldn’t bring himself to do it (he was still bitter, if you couldn’t tell already). But he should be happy for him. At least half of the duel had gotten the ring.
But he was not happy, obviously. Steve should have stayed. They should have gotten their rings together, on the same team. They should never had to be on the opposite side of the court, wearing different jerseys, playing against each other.
They were supposed to be like Stockton and Malone, together until the end.
But they forgot that one of them (okay, Malone) went to play for another team.
“Hey, Steve?”
Lyrics provided by ebjim.
Artist: La Oreja De Van Gogh
Album: Lo Que Te Conté Mientras Te Hacías La Dormida
Year: 2003
Title: Puedes Contar Conmigo
Un café con sal. Ganas de llorar.
Mi mundo empezando a temblar,
presiento que se acerca el final.
No quiero ganar. Ahora eso qué más da.
Estoy cansada ya de inventar excusas que no saben andar.
Y sólo quedarán los buenos momentos de ayer que fueron de los dos.
Y hoy sólo quiero creer...
Que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor
al verte esperando en mi portal sentado en el suelo sin pensar
que puedes contar conmigo.
Nunca hubo maldad. Sólo ingenuidad.
Pretendiendo hacernos creer que el mundo estaba a nuestros pies.
Cuando el sueño venga a por mí en silencio voy a construir
una vida a todo color donde vivamos juntos los dos.
Y sólo quedarán los buenos momentos de ayer que fueron de los dos.
Y hoy sólo quiero creer...
Que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor
al verte esperando en mi portal sentado en el suelo sin pensar
que puedes contar conmigo para siempre.
Y no puedo evitar echarte de menos
mientras das la mano a mi tiempo y te vas.
Yo siento que quiero verte y verte y pienso...
que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor
al verte esperando en mi portal sentado en el suelo sin pensar
que puedes contar conmigo.
Que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida se pasa y yo me muero, me muero por ti.
And the translation:
A coffee with salt. Desires to cry.
My world is beginning to tremble,
I have a premonition that the end is near.
I don't want to win. Now it's what gives most.
I am tired and make excuses that don't work.
And I only want our good moments from yesterday.
And I only want to believe...
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I felt like I was going to die of love
And you were waiting in my doorway sitting on the ground without thinking
that you can count on me.
There never was evilness. Only naivety.
I'm looking to make us believe that the world is on our feet.
When the dream comes to me in silence I'm going to build
A life with all the color where the two of us will live.
And I only want our good moments from yesterday.
And I only want to believe...
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I felt like I was going to die of love
And you were waiting in my doorway sitting on the ground without thinking
that you can always count on me.
And I'm not able to avoid throwing myself for less
While you give your hand to my time and you go.
I feel that I want to go to you and go to you and think...
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I felt like I was going to die of love
And you were waiting in my doorway sitting on the ground without thinking
that you can count on me.
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I died, I died for you.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Steve Nash/Dirk Nowitzki (PHO/DAL)
DISCLAIMER: This fiction does not represent the basketball players in real life. All resemblances are coincidences and nothing else.
Notes: Yes, I finished, only because people posted today/night/whatever and I kicked myself to finish this. Ugh. ughuguhghgughguhiadf. :) ::stabs:: (and I didn't read this over, sorry) and um, I suck at dialogue, so there's none. ha.
Extra Notes: Written for sslyricwheel's challenge theme - Around the World, originally posted here. And translated into Russian here.
1.
I have a premonition that the end is near.
They were away, alone, in a country that only one of them was familiar with. They were asleep, in separated room in case his parents would give them a surprise visit at night. Not that it was going to happen, but you know, just in case (they were fucking adults, grown ups).
Dirk slept in his own room while Steve slept in the guest bedroom, in Dirk’s parents’ house, in a city, in Germany. It was only temporary, there was something wrong with Dirk’s house, and had no choice but to take shelter in the only place they knew would let them stay.
Dirk tossed and turned in his bed, unused to the absence of the lump (well a lump named Steve) that usually sleep beside him. He kicked off the comforter off the bed out of frustration and grabbed his pillow and quietly slipped down to the guestroom. He gently pushed open the door to Steve’s room and saw that Steve was in deep slumber and loudly snoring, so he quickly closed the door to avoid anymore necessary noise out the door.
Dirk had trouble sleeping for the past while, namely after they were out of the playoffs. Steve’s contract was up and he was bothered by the fact that Steve hadn’t given much thought into it. They were always a possibility that some team might come along with a juicy contract and take Steve away from him. From everything he had known since he left his home to pursuit his dream.
Instead of slipping into bed with Steve, Dirk left the room and sat in front of the computer screen. He couldn’t bear to read the articles printed anymore. Everywhere he went there was talk about Steve leaving the team, his side, even though Steve hadn’t said anything about it. And there was nothing Dirk could do to stop Steve. It would be the right thing for Dirk to do (letting Steve go), only because it was the right thing to do (not because he wanted to).
2.
And I only want our good moments from yesterday.
Dirk and Steve used to go on road trips during summer when neither of them wanted to go home. It was another year of disappointment and struggles. They would never be good enough, would they? Steve would be the one driving since neither of them trusted Dirk’s driving skills. They would drive in the desert heat of Texas to middle of no-fucking-where until they got hungry, where they would stop and grab a bite, then drove again. Yeah, driving down a straight road with barely any other cars on either side of the freeway was a good way to drown out their misery (or so they thought at first). They would stop when the sun went out, find any decent enough place to stay, do their thing, and leave the first thing in the morning. The silence between them was enough to make them forget.
There was always next year (and another disappointment and another road trip and another).
3.
There never was evilness. Only naivety.
Awkwardness was ensured. A scrawny German kid who still wasn’t sure if his limbs would be attached to his body if he moved ever-so-slightly and a short Canadian kid still in the unnatural-dyed hair phase (who is really short no matter how tall he might claim he was) were going to be the future of the Mavericks. They were the laughing stock in the league. Dirk couldn’t stand the media hounding on his back (Are you sure he’s the right kid for this?) and Steve was still trying to prove that a kid like him could be in the league (Canadian, short, scrawny, right.). So they found each other, not because there was some magical spark between them, but because they had no one else to confine their fears in.
They stuck together, they did everything together, and they became Dirk and Steve, Nowitzki and Nash, best friends to the end no matter what.
They all said they were to be just like Malone and Stockton.
4.
I am tired of making excuses that don't work.
Dirk sat in front of his TV set, in his house, in Germany. So they won, he only absentminded acknowledged the fact that he had done it, while himself was at home kicking himself everyday and wondering what went wrong. He told himself he ought to call Steve and congratulate him but really, he couldn’t bring himself to do it (he was still bitter, if you couldn’t tell already). But he should be happy for him. At least half of the duel had gotten the ring.
But he was not happy, obviously. Steve should have stayed. They should have gotten their rings together, on the same team. They should never had to be on the opposite side of the court, wearing different jerseys, playing against each other.
They were supposed to be like Stockton and Malone, together until the end.
But they forgot that one of them (okay, Malone) went to play for another team.
“Hey, Steve?”
Lyrics provided by ebjim.
Artist: La Oreja De Van Gogh
Album: Lo Que Te Conté Mientras Te Hacías La Dormida
Year: 2003
Title: Puedes Contar Conmigo
Un café con sal. Ganas de llorar.
Mi mundo empezando a temblar,
presiento que se acerca el final.
No quiero ganar. Ahora eso qué más da.
Estoy cansada ya de inventar excusas que no saben andar.
Y sólo quedarán los buenos momentos de ayer que fueron de los dos.
Y hoy sólo quiero creer...
Que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor
al verte esperando en mi portal sentado en el suelo sin pensar
que puedes contar conmigo.
Nunca hubo maldad. Sólo ingenuidad.
Pretendiendo hacernos creer que el mundo estaba a nuestros pies.
Cuando el sueño venga a por mí en silencio voy a construir
una vida a todo color donde vivamos juntos los dos.
Y sólo quedarán los buenos momentos de ayer que fueron de los dos.
Y hoy sólo quiero creer...
Que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor
al verte esperando en mi portal sentado en el suelo sin pensar
que puedes contar conmigo para siempre.
Y no puedo evitar echarte de menos
mientras das la mano a mi tiempo y te vas.
Yo siento que quiero verte y verte y pienso...
que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor
al verte esperando en mi portal sentado en el suelo sin pensar
que puedes contar conmigo.
Que recordarás las tardes de invierno por Madrid,
las noches enteras sin dormir.
La vida se pasa y yo me muero, me muero por ti.
And the translation:
A coffee with salt. Desires to cry.
My world is beginning to tremble,
I have a premonition that the end is near.
I don't want to win. Now it's what gives most.
I am tired and make excuses that don't work.
And I only want our good moments from yesterday.
And I only want to believe...
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I felt like I was going to die of love
And you were waiting in my doorway sitting on the ground without thinking
that you can count on me.
There never was evilness. Only naivety.
I'm looking to make us believe that the world is on our feet.
When the dream comes to me in silence I'm going to build
A life with all the color where the two of us will live.
And I only want our good moments from yesterday.
And I only want to believe...
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I felt like I was going to die of love
And you were waiting in my doorway sitting on the ground without thinking
that you can always count on me.
And I'm not able to avoid throwing myself for less
While you give your hand to my time and you go.
I feel that I want to go to you and go to you and think...
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I felt like I was going to die of love
And you were waiting in my doorway sitting on the ground without thinking
that you can count on me.
That you will remember the late winter nights in Madrid,
The nights you went through without sleeping.
Life passed and I died, I died for you.