'The Limit' - Chapter Twenty-Five
This chapter is a little smuttier than previous chapters. It's really not that bad, but just be forewarned. :)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Haley, Haley James!” a cheerful voice calls her from behind, and she whirls around, more than a little surprised to see that the voice belongs to one Brooke Davis, someone who has never, ever sought her out before.
Sighing, Haley reluctantly stops, waiting for Brooke. “Can I help you?” she asks, snottier than she’d usually address someone, but Brooke Davis is not a person she has any patience or regard for, and she doesn’t even feel a tiny bit bad about that.
Brooke rears back a little, not used to being blown off or blatantly disliked like this. Most people at least hide it a little. “Um, yeah, actually you can,” Brooke states, trying to sound more confident than she is. “See, here’s the thing, I need a friend.”
Haley blinks, definitely not expecting that. “Um, you have like a hundred of them,” she points out, shaking her head a little to clear it in the fog of Brooke’s perfume, “I don’t really see how I can help you with that.”
“But you totally can!” Brooke bubbles, smiling brightly at the other girl, “See Peyton likes you, and that means that I’d like you, too.”
Haley nods, not following that logic since Peyton currently was still secretary of the I hate Brooke Davis club. “Well, that’s nice, but I still don’t really see how that pertains.”
Brooke puffs out a breath in exasperation. “Because Peyton might hate me right now, which by the way? Is totally unwarranted. But anyway, the point is, she’ll see that eventually, and she won’t hate me forever. And I trust her judgment, you know? So if you’re good enough for P. Sawyer, you are certainly good enough for me.”
“Wow, thanks!” Haley says with the fakest cheer she’s ever mustered, “But again, I am still not getting why that should mean anything to me, Brooke. And oh, look! The bell is about to ring. I should get to class.”
“I want to be your friend,” Brooke blurts out, a touch desperately.
Haley turns back to her, her eyes wide with surprise. “Okay,” she drawls out slowly, “Is this the part where your idiot friends and followers jump out with cameras and you all have a good laugh at my expense?”
“Okay, maybe that’s fair,” Brooke allows, her eyes shuttering, “But I swear, this isn’t some elaborate plot to amuse ourselves by punking you or whatever. I promise.”
“Funny how I can’t really take into account the promises of a girl who roofied my best friend,” Haley sneers, giving up any pretenses of civility, “I guess that pretty much closes this conversation. Unless your cameras really are hiding, and I clue a few people in on just how selfish and hateful you are.”
Brooke is clearly taken about by Haley’s mini-tirade, and she reacts the only way she’s ever known how to react - lash back. “I know about you and Nathan,” she hisses, “So maybe I wouldn’t be quite so high and mighty and dismissive, if I were you.”
As expected, Haley pales, stopping short. All color has drained out of her face, and she regards Brooke with dawning horror. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she manages to get out in a strangled whisper, “You have no clue what you’re talking about, Brooke.”
“Oh, I think I do, Tutor Girl,” Brooke snits back at her, dropping her attempt at kindness, “I know all about you two and your torrid little affair or whatever you’d call it.”
“How…?”
“Please, like Nathan was going to keep his mouth shut about it?” Brooke laughs cruelly, “Please, don’t be so naïve. Nathan might get a kick out of that, but I really just find it to be trite and way too cutesy for you to pull off.”
“Nathan told you?” Haley says softly, wrapping her arms around her middle to ward off the sudden chill she got, “Nathan. Nathan told you that there was something going on between us?”
Brooke shrugs. “Not exactly. But he told Dim, and lord knows that boy can’t keep a secret, even if it would save his life.”
Haley breathes a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t had reason to think Nathan was talking about them, but she had to admit to herself that she believed the worst when Brooke insinuated he had. This is one time she definitely does not mind being proved wrong.
The relief is short-lived, though, when she remembers that there is a larger problem here: Brooke knowing about them. “I don’t know what you think you know, or what Tim is telling you, but it really isn’t something you need to worry about, is it?”
Brooke smiles, shrugging. “In most respects, no, it isn’t. But see, like I was saying earlier, I need a friend.”
“And you think that you can blackmail me into being your friend? You would actually want to get a ‘friend’ in that manner? Crack kills, Brooke. You might want to lay off,” Haley suggests tartly, projecting an outward calm that was definitely belying her inner freak out. Brooke Davis is several things - a known slut, a bitch, and a gossip, and right now, it was the latter of the trio that was scaring Haley half to death.
Brooke rolls her eyes. “Well, I suppose I can’t blackmail you into being my friend,” she notes thoughtfully, “But I can blackmail you into spending time with me. The rest should come naturally. We can work on the friendship thing from there, as you’ll see when you get to know me I’m a very loyal friend.”
“Again, you roofied your best friend’s boyfriend. How’s that loyal?” Haley snaps, about to come unglued, “Why don’t you just spell out what you want from me?”
“Your help in getting Lucas to like me,” she says bluntly, her fists squeezing into balls when Haley starts laughing at her, “I’m serious. I’m not going to ask you to start pushing me yet, but I think once you get to know me, you’ll see I have a bad rap.”
“Doubtful,” Haley sighs, tapping her foot impatiently. She wants to run off and call Nathan, and let him know what is going on here, let him know that Brooke knows. It’s a little funny to her that he is always her first reaction now, but she figures it is what it is. “Why are you doing this?”
“I like Lucas,” Brooke answers simply, honestly, “And I want him to be mine. If I can prove to you that I’m worthy of that, then maybe…”
Haley shakes her head, groaning. “Any chance you won’t impose yourself on me? Come on, Brooke. He likes Peyton, and they’re good for each other. Why are you doing this to yourself, to your friend?”
Brooke shrugs, faltering a little. “You don’t get it. Lucas is one of the only truly good guys I’ve ever known. Is it so bad to want that for myself?”
Haley softens a teeny, tiny bit. “No, of course not, but Brooke, the way you’re going about it? Totally bad, and totally, totally wrong.”
“Well, it’s all I’ve got now, isn’t it?” Brooke bites out, “And I’m so sorry I’m not perfect and smart and whatever else it is that you are, but I’m working with what I have, okay?”
“I can’t do this,” Haley sighs, “I can’t play these games with you, Brooke.”
“Then I’ll tell everyone,” Brooke threatens, “I’ll tell Lucas.”
Haley bites her lower lip in frustration, knowing that Brooke has her between a rock and a hard place here. “I’ve never done anything to you,” Haley points out, “And for someone who is saying she wants friends, you’re not really going about it in a very smart way.”
Brooke just shrugs, smiling tightly. “No one ever accused me of being very smart, now did they?”
“Fine. What exactly do I have to do?”
“Just hang out with me,” Brooke tells her, her eyes pleading with Haley to just give in and do this, “We can, I don’t know, what is it that you like to do? Study? Let’s not do that. But we could go to the mall, I love shopping. Or we could go out and party, I could make you a fake ID! Oh, we could get matching tattoos! Peyton’s afraid of needles, but I think it would be so much fun!”
Haley stares at her with dawning horror, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, no, and oh, my God, are you kidding me with this? I’d rather go to another holiday bazaar with my mom and her best friend with those dancing munchkins or whatever they were than do anything that made a permanent change to my body!”
“It won’t be that bad,” Brooke retorts, “Look, just come over to my house tomorrow after cheer practice is over. You’re usually still here then, right?”
Haley nods tiredly. “Yeah, I guess that’s about when tutoring is normally done.”
“Great!” Brooke enthuses, “I have pretty much everything we’ll need for a good time at my house, so don’t worry about bringing anything. Oh, I’ll have to remember to get whipped cream.”
“Are you coming on to me?” Haley asks, taking a wary step back, “Because that’s just not, you know, I mean it’s - “
“Don’t worry, I know you’re all hot for Nathan’s dick, don’t worry, I get that,” Brooke laughs, reaching out to pull Haley into the most awkward hug of her life, “Okay, see you after school tomorrow.”
Haley stares at her as she bounds off down the hall. “Oh, my God, what was that?”
And what has she gotten herself into this time?
~*~
“She is completely psychotic!” Haley rages to Nathan as she tries to wipe off the makeup that Brooke smeared all over her face during their ‘play date’, as Nathan was calling it, “I swear, Nathan, she is psychotic in an ‘eee eee eee’ kind of way!”
“’Eee eee eee’?” he repeats, trying not to laugh, knowing this is one time it would not be appreciated.
“Yes, like horror movie, kill you in your sleep and then strew your insides around the yard for the neighbor’s dog to take home and drop in their bowl, freaking out the family there!” she shudders, glaring at him, “I can’t believe Tim told her, Nathan! And now I’m the one who has to make nice? This - this sucks!”
She flings the washcloth into the sink and stomps out of the bathroom, not even caring if she’s acting like a two year old with this hissy fit. And maybe it wasn’t fair to blame Nathan, but if his stupid best friend had kept his big trap shut, then she wouldn’t be the one suffering for something that both of them did. It just wasn’t fair, and while normally getting him to laugh was a personal mission of sorts, she was not appreciating it right now.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, following behind her, “It is definitely not fair that you’re the one getting punished for this. C’mere, pretty girl.”
“Am I completely being irrational about this?” she asks, letting him pull her into him, “It doesn’t feel like it. God, she wants to prove to me that she’s worthy of breaking up my best friend and his girlfriend. How sick is she?”
He can’t answer that question, because he can’t cast stones. Most people would probably think that what he’s doing is worse, and when he’s being honest, he knows that is the truth. Each word she casts against Brooke hits him, chinking at his armor. It scares him that one day, she’ll break right through it.
Haley pulls back, moving to sit on her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. “She makes me so crazy, Nathan. And every time I try and get out, she’s all, ‘Oh, I have Lucas on speed dial, I’ll just give him a jingle!’” she sneers in a fairly good Brooke impersonation, “But really, this is real life, not a movie. Who messes with people like that? For fun, or for pathetic and unnecessary selfish gain? It makes me sick.”
Wave after nauseating wave of guilt crashes over him, and he actually has to take a step back. This is how she’ll be talking about him soon. It is, and he knows it. There isn’t even anything that he can do to change it, because he put himself on this course, and he can’t back out now. She’ll look at him the same way she looks at Brooke, only it will be so much worse because she actually cares for him. He knows she does, knows that she’s so close to loving him that he can taste it, and that is just going to make things a million times worse when he sends her crashing down.
“I should go,” he whispers uncomfortably, backing towards the door. She looks at up at him blankly, still a little lost in her own thoughts.
“Why would you go?”
“Oh, tired, you know. Hard practice, Whitey is really riding me now that I’m back,” he lies, and it is like second nature to do so now. He hates this process of awareness that he’s going through, where he sees every horrible thing he does for what it is. Sees how easy it is for him to make the wrong choice, tell the smoothest of lies without even flinching. He doesn’t like himself, and he supposes that when Haley doesn’t like him either, it won’t matter anymore.
She looks at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling on about stupid things, and you’ve actually had a hard day. Um, you can stay here,” she offers, still a little shy about it. They haven’t slept together yet, and they’re running out of nights with her family gone and the house to themselves. “You could even crash in here, and I’d take Tay’s room, if you’re really tired,” she offers, getting up to pull him back into the room.
It’s killing him, that she cares so much. That she’s putting him ahead of herself, the same way she does for her family and for Lucas. He doesn’t deserve that from her, but it is what he’s getting and he can’t really refuse it. And he can’t stand the idea of turning his back on it, either.
“You don’t have to give up your bed for me,” he tells her quietly, leaning down to touch his cheek to hers. He wants this girl so bad, and yet he feels impotent when it comes to doing something about it. Like if he sleeps with her like they both want, he’d just be taking something from her that maybe he doesn’t need to.
“Then we can share it,” she suggests, tugging him towards it, “Not like it’s the first time, right?”
He smiles at her. “You’re so good to me.”
She blinks, surprised at the tender comment. “I - is that a bad thing?” she can’t help but ask.
He laughs, shaking his head. “No, it’s not a bad thing at all. I was just thinking that I’m really lucky to have you. You - you make my life better.”
“Oh, Nathan,” she sighs, throwing her arms around him, “You make mine better, too. Just get in bed, I have to go change.”
He raises his eyebrows at her. “Or you could just change in here,” he suggests, shrugging out of his hoodie, “I wouldn’t mind too much.”
“You’re too kind,” she smiles ruefully, shaking her hair off her face, “Just get in there.”
“Not until you’re getting in, too,” he bargains, his hands coming up to finger the buttons on her shirt, “Can I?”
“May I,” she corrects automatically, nodding slowly, “And yes, you may.”
He grins lazily, not even the slightest bit deterred by the impromptu grammar lesson. “Maybe I can kiss Brooke right out of your head, huh?” he suggests, popping the first button free from its hole.
“Maybe you can,” she agrees coyly, reaching out for the hem of his t-shirt, smiling when he steps back and lifts his arms for her. “In fact, I’d put good money on it that you could.”
When he’s free of the shirt, she lays her hands on his chest, palms flat as she slides them over the smooth skin. He groans aloud when she brushes her fingers over his nipple, tugging lightly on the ring there. Not one to be passive, he brings his hands back up, making short work of her buttons, and sliding the shirt down her arms.
Her bra is pink, and lacy, and completely unlike anything else he’s ever seen her wear, and the blush staining her cheeks is a good indicator that she bought it just for an occasion like this.
“Yes, it’s new,” she admits, “And yes, I bought it with you in mind, and I hope you like. Oh, but if you don’t, I mean, if you think black or some other color would be better, then - “
“Okay,” he laughs, after silencing her with a kiss, “It’s nice, Hay. I like it. I like you in it, mostly. And I’ll like you even better out of it.”
She nods nervously. “Isn’t it weird that we spend so much money on things like this, bras and panties and lingerie, and then we just take them off?”
Her nervous babbling should be a turn-off, but it is just another thing that endears her more to him. He brushes her hair out of her face, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I don’t know,” he answers the rhetorically asked question, “But I’m awfully glad you do.”
She leans into him, her fingers trailing down his abs, hesitating when they hit the top button of his jeans. “May I?” she asks, repeating his earlier question.
Heat flares in his eyes at the implications of the questions, and he nods in response, not sure if he’d be able to form words right now. She smiles hesitantly at him, her fingers brushing down the front of the fly, just barely grazing the denim, but he feels it. Oh, how he feels it.
She glances up at him, studying his face to find approval of her actions, and when his cheeks infuse with pink heat, she gets it. She brushes against him again, more purposefully this time, more definite, and he thrusts lightly against her hand. She lifts her other hand to him, slipping it just beneath the waistband, the backs of her fingers warm against his bare skin.
She keeps her eyes on him continually as she pops the buttons, wanting to drink in his reactions. Needs to know if he likes her touch, what he reacts to and what he doesn’t. She undoes the buttons slowly, teasing and deliberate as she slides the hand not on the buttons just below the waistband of his boxers.
His pupils dilate, and he moans again, his gaze fixed on her hands, watching every move they make over him. She stretches up onto her toes as she pops the last button, pressing a kiss over his mouth, her tongue tracing over the seam of his lips. His comes out to meet her, playfully stroking against her as she slips her hand into his jeans, cupping her hand lightly around him.
“Haley,” he moans, trying to resist the very, very strong urge to thrust in her hand until he comes, “God, baby, you feel so good.”
She tips her head back, again staring at him as she moves her free hand up his chest and then back down. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his lips are damp and parted. He’s never looked more beautiful to her than he does now, either.
Growing bolder, she shifts her hand experimentally, grinning to herself when he actually thrusts into her hand. He’s so controlled with her, so damn careful, and she just needs to prove to herself that he has that same wild urge for her that she has for him. When he lets go like that, reacts with a little spontaneity, it gives her a boldness she might not otherwise have.
Using the hand not occupied with touching him in the most intimate of ways, she pushes his pants down, smiling - and blushing - at him when he steps out of them. “I think I am way underdressed,” he murmurs huskily, his head dropping down at level with hers.
She shakes her head, her eyes teasing as she moves her hands up to the waistband of his boxers. As she’s pushing them off, she smiles at him, her gaze never wavering from his face, no matter how much she wants to look. “Now maybe you’re a little underdressed,” she offers when he kicks the boxers off.
He backs her into the wall, not even caring that he’s completely naked and she’s almost fully clothed. He doesn’t even worry about the roughness of her jeans against his legs or the way her nails dig into his biceps as he lifts her slightly, her legs wrapping loosely around his hips, rubbing intimately against her exposed stomach.
Pinning her to the wall with his hips, he leans back enough to work the front clasp of her bra, grinning when it easily slides apart, revealing her completely delicious looking breasts to his eyes. “Pants off,” he manages to gasp out, “Baby, we have to get your pants off.”
She fists her hand in his hair, tugging his mouth to hers. She lets her legs fall to the ground, pushing at his chest so he gives her the space she needs to get the pants off, which she quickly does. She moves to push her panties, which match the lacy pink bra, of course, down as well, but he covers her hands with his own, effectively stopping her.
“I want to,” he tells her, his eyes on her breasts as his hands slide from her hips, up her waist, to brush lightly against them. She sighs, leaning towards him, craving more of his touch. He guides her over to the bed, sitting down and moving her to stand between his legs. “You’re so beautiful, Haley.”
She shifts her weight from foot to foot, nervous under his scrutiny. He slides his hands up her legs, cupping her ass to pull her closer to him. He smiles up at her, not missing the way she’s always watching him, gauging his reactions to her and her body, trying to see what he likes. He could tell her everything, that he wants and loves and lusts for everything on her and about her and that she does, but he figures she needs to be able to see that herself.
He lowers his head, grazing his nose against the bottom of her rib cage. She gasps at the contact, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders for support, to keep her legs under her. His lips make contact with the skin, his tongue slipping out to taste her, and he drags it higher, teasing over the bottom curve of her breast.
Her legs feel like jelly, and she cries out when his lips slide high enough to capture a nipple between them. He smiles against her skin, loving the reaction he’s able to draw out of her. Her fingernails are digging slightly into the skin of his shoulders, but he barely feels that. How could he feel anything else when she’s damn near naked and pressed right against him?
She arches against him, the bare skin of her belly pressing into his chest, and this time, he’s the one moaning. His mouth teases her breast more, his tongue circling around her nipple, not quite giving her what she wants. So she presses closer, one of her hands leaving his shoulder to hold his head to her, telling him without words that she wants more. That he doesn’t have to treat her like she is porcelain.
Dropping her other hand from his shoulder, she trails it down his chest, pausing to tug lightly on his nipple right - which is a surprising turn-on for her - before reaching lower, taking him in her hand. His eyes widen in surprise, glancing up at her as he tries to maintain his focus on her breasts, which really, is not a struggle.
He pulls her down to the bed with him, rolling her under him so that the only thing between them is her panties. He lifts his head, smiling at her. “Is this okay?”
She rolls her eyes, laughing a little. “It’s more than okay,” she assures, moving to prove that assertion by lifting her hips and rubbing against him, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. “See? I want this, Nathan.”
“Yeah,” he nods, his head dropping down to kiss her neck, across her collarbone, and finally, down her chest. “You’re gorgeous,” he says sincerely, and she smirks to herself since he says it more to her breasts than to her.
He knows just where to touch to make her crazy, just where to kiss to get her gasping or moaning, and what to say to get her blushing. When he props himself up on his elbows, smiling down at her as his finger traces over her cheek, she almost blurts out that she loves him. She doesn’t know why, exactly, she’s holding back, since she’s pretty sure that he knows it would be implied for her to be so eager to be with him like this, but something keeps her from screaming it out.
Maybe it’s just the need not to be the first one, to be sure that he feels even close to how she does before giving him that portion of herself that would give him the power to destroy her. And it isn’t even that she’s afraid of getting hurt by him; it is just that general survival instinct everyone has. That part of her that only wants to give what she knows she is getting in return.
He breaks her out of her reverie by trailing his fingers up her inner thighs, teasing ever higher. It is dizzying and breathtaking and oh so amazing to have him touching her like this, and she would so have to kill him if he stopped this time. And he’s kissing her breasts and sliding his fingers below her panties, and she never wants this to end, even though she’s nervous just the same.
Shifting up higher, he fists his free hand in her hair, bringing her mouth to his in a hard, hot kiss that steals the last of her breath, leaving her panting. He wants to be on her, in her, so he tries to be as many places as he can at once, lifting his head to make sure she’s comfortable with what he does. That he doesn’t hurt her. Shit, he hopes he doesn’t hurt her.
“Nathan, I want you,” she gasps out laboriously, her body arching into his hand, “Please, I need you now.”
“Almost, baby,” he tells her, trying to smile reassuringly, even though he’s maybe the one who needs that reassurance right now. He knows that she’s nervous, it is there in the slight tightness around her mouth, but he knows that he’s feeling it more acutely than she is, too. “I don’t - I have to make sure you’re ready.”
Her eyes open wide as he slips a long finger into her, his thumb moving to brush a ghost of a touch over her clit. Knowing that he’s nervous, knowing that he’s worried about whether she’s okay with all this, she does her best to fight through the passion-induced haze to smile at him. “I think it’s time to take them off,” she manages to whisper, gesturing to her panties.
He pauses, a huge grin breaking out across his face. “That’s one of the big reasons why I love you, Haley James. You can always make me laugh, no matter what the situation is.”
The way he says it, so nonchalantly, so matter-of-factly, so just like something it is takes her breath away more than any touch he could give her. It’s just so there and there is so much honesty behind the words that are so casually said, that she chokes up, letting her head fall back so he doesn’t see how much they touch her.
He presses a kiss to the underside of her chin before moving back to drag her panties down her hips. “This still okay?” he asks worriedly, no more barriers between them at all, and it makes him all the more nervous.
She sits up, wrapping one arm around his neck while the other brushes across down his chest. “It’s more than okay, Nathan. I’m ready.”
He smiles ruefully, leaning into her touch. “I don’t know if I am,” he admits, “I’ve never - I mean, with a virgin. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she promises, then scrunches her nose up a little, “Okay, my mom is a nurse, I know that probably isn’t true. But it’s not like you’re stabbing me in the back or anything. It’ll be fine, better than fine.”
He smiles, nodding his agreement, even though her comment hits a little too close to home. Because he is stabbing her in the back, every second that they’re together. Every second that goes by that he leads her on and withholds his true intentions just drives the knife in a little deeper. It’s awful, and he knows it. He’s awful.
She lies back on the bed, keeping her arm around him to tug him down with her. She’s in control, and that’s okay with him. It’s safer, it’s better - and oh, god, did he say he loved her? He stares down at her, trying to see if there was any recognition or reaction to his words. She tries to lean up to kiss him, but he pushes himself out of her reach.
“What?” she asks, searching his face carefully, “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks quietly, all the right parts of him touching the right, the so, so right parts of her, which almost drive him to distraction. He has to hear this now, he has to know that what he said doesn’t change things for her, for them. That it is still okay, that his love is something that she wants.
She blinks, surprised he’s bringing it up. “I heard,” she admits quietly, staring down at his chest in a futile bid to avoid eye contact, since he scoots down so that he can look at her. “I love you, too,” she blurts out in typical Haley fashion, “I love you, and I have for awhile now. Oh, God, is this the bad time to say that?”
He practically falls on her, completely covering her little body with his own. “I think this is the perfect time to say that,” he grins, ecstatic over her words. Everything else, good or bad, flies from his head. The knowledge that she loves him is more than enough for him right now, and he’s ready to cement that. “I love you.”
“Oh, Nathan,” she sighs, tears filling her eyes, her body soft and warm and willing against him, “Then make love to me, now.”
She reaches out, grabbing a condom off the table next to the bed. Once her mother realized how serious things were between her youngest daughter and her boyfriend, she made sure she was well stocked with the necessities. Haley was embarrassed at first, but now she couldn’t have been happier or more grateful for the intrusion.
She rips open the package, taking it out, but lets him roll it on, something that he’s grateful for. The feel of her hands on him now would not be conducive to drawing things out, as it were. His hand finds her cheek, cupping it gently as he kisses her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in a promise of what is to come. He slides his hand down her body, caressing over her breasts, coming to rest between her legs.
He knows her body is ready for him, hot and wet, and pushing his nerves and fears aside, he guides himself to her, sliding just the tip in, trying to hold out long enough for her to get used to the new sensation. She bites her lower lip, her gaze on his face as he slides into her, satisfied when his eyes screw shut in pleasure. It hurts, but it feels good, and he feels good, and everything else about this is so good that the pain seems completely non-consequential.
When he’s completely inside her, he buries his face in her neck. “I can’t stay still,” he moans out, his breath quick and harsh.
“Okay,” she nods, turning her head to kiss whatever part of him she can reach. She holds her breath as he slides out, and then thrusts back in. That…feels better, and she slides one of her legs up to hook around his hip, trying to shift closer. He is kissing her neck, and then the side of her face, so she turns and meets his lips with her own. “Hi,” she breathes, smiling at him, her breath hitching when he thrusts harder into her, “Oh.”
“I love you,” he tells her again, drawing far too near his peak, knowing he can’t hold out much longer, “Hay…”
He comes, cursing to himself for not waiting for her, even through his own pleasure. “Damn it, Hay, I’m sorry, shit, I’m so sorry,” he fumbles out when he can breathe again, “Damn it.”
She brushes her hand through his hair. To herself, she won’t lie: she’s disappointed. That’s ridiculous, and she knows it, nerd and studying fool that she is, but she does know it. To him, though, she’ll lie like a rug in this one case if it’ll make him feel better. “It’s okay, Nathan.”
He lifts his head, glaring at her. “Haley, it’s not okay, that’s not how it was supposed to happen!” he grounds in frustration, “I - it - I was supposed to be better.”
“I love you, Nathan,” she tells him, and a lot of the frustration-born tension drains from his body, “And it is okay. Um, I mean, we can do it again, right?”
He grins, leaning down to kiss her. “You bet we can,” he agrees, “And if you stay naked and under me for a few more minutes, we can do it then.”
“Okay,” she agrees, laughing as she hugs him to her, holding on to roll with him onto their sides, “I do love you, you know?”
“I know,” he agrees solemnly, his eyes closing as he holds her tighter, “I know.”
He knows, and it is the best, and the worst, thing that could happen to him.
~*~
He walked home the next morning, the heaviness of fear and guilt weighing him down while the absolute lightness of happiness kept it from crushing him. Once he recovered, quickly enough to make Haley grin with appreciation, he showed her just how good it could be, several times. She’d promised him several times that it was fine the first time, but he knew it wasn’t, and if he couldn’t give her the perfect first time, then he’d sure as hell give her a perfect first night.
He has his basketball with him, one that he bought with his own money at a skills camp last summer. Dan had been irritated with him, not liking the brand, not liking that Nathan had done something basketball related without gaining his approval first. And maybe that was why he did it in the first place, to prove to Dan that he had no hold over him. That wasn’t true, and Nathan understood that much now, but then, he’d been naïve enough to think that.
That was something he’d learned recently. When he’d first started this thing with Lucas, and subsequently Haley, maybe a part of it really had been about hating Lucas. Now, though, so much more of it was about making Dan happy, doing something that Dan wanted, no matter how very twisted it was. And boy, was it twisted.
He supposed that part of him still didn’t care much for Lucas, just for what he represented in both parts of his world, home and Haley. At home Lucas was the threat hanging over his head, the kid he had to be better than to prove himself worthy of being ‘picked’. And Haley, Haley loved the bastard. Nathan knew that, knew he wasn’t going to be able to change it, and he resented that. Maybe that’s why it is still so easy to work on changing that, on taking Haley away from him. On making her his.
He stops at the river court on his way through. It is early, too early for anyone to be out yet, and so he stops, hesitantly dribbling across the court. The only reason he left Haley was to get back in time for his morning training session with Dan, but maybe if he comes back obviously having got some in, Dan won’t pitch too big of a fit.
At least that’s one thing he could count on from his dad. The locker incidents aside, he never got physical with him. It was usually just a bunch of threats and whining and bitching and manipulating, and Nathan had got to a point where a lot of that didn’t phase him. Oh, some did, of course, but a lot he could ignore, too. Maybe that was a shadowed bright side, but it was something.
As he starts to shoot, the same shot over and over, he doesn’t realize that he has an audience. Even when he goes through the entire routine his father laid out for him - fifty shots from each designated point - he doesn’t notice anyone else there.
Lucas steps out of the shadows when Nathan pauses, his own basketball - older and rattier - clutched under his arm as he regards his younger half-brother cautiously. “Didn’t figure you’d deign to venture to this part of town often,” he drawls out, but there is no heat or provocation behind the words.
“Guess you don’t know enough about me to figure much of anything,” Nathan retorts, tensing up at the sight of him, “But hey, this dump was just convenient.”
“Gee, it loves you, too,” Lucas sighs, watching him warily, never sure what to expect from the volatile young man in front of him, “Seriously, don’t you have some perfectly paved sport court to play on or something? Daddy slipping?”
“Yup,” Nathan answers affirmatively, “He sure is slipping. Just like when he slipped and accidentally got his dick stuck in your mom, resulting in the waste that is you. Oops.”
Lucas’s hands clench into tight balls, and he lets the basketball slip from his grasp. “Screw you, man. You’re pathetic, and - and……not even worth. You are so not worth it.”
“Not worth what? A good fight? I don’t know about that, I throw some good punches,” Nathan continues to taunt him, not sure what is possessing him, “Come on, is that what you want? To fight?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Lucas shoots back, “I don’t want to fight you. I like being on the team, I like being able to play in all the games. Just leave my mother out of it. Dan - your father - has hurt and screwed her over enough that she doesn’t deserve to have any ignorant bullshit come out of your mouth, too. She’s worth so much more than that.”
“Fuck off,” Nathan mutters, “What do you know about worth? It’s not like paupers really have much to base it off of, right?”
“I guess I know the value of a lot more things than you do,” Lucas sighs, too tired of this game of push and shove to even shove back anymore, “Whatever. Keep shooting, man. I can find somewhere else to go.”
“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” Nathan snarks, unable to just let Lucas walk away from this. He doesn’t know why he is pushing for a fight here, but he thinks maybe it has something to do with the guilt he’s feeling over what he’s doing to Haley. “No wonder everyone thinks you’re so wonderful, huh?”
Lucas shakes his head, squinting at Nathan tiredly. “You know, I used to hate you because I thought you had it so much better, so much easier than me and my mom did. I was wrong. You weren’t the lucky one, I was. And you can hate me for that all you want, or you can hate me because that’s what Dan is telling you to do, but it isn’t going to change the fact that I escaped him and you didn’t.”
Nathan glares at him, hating him for all those things. Hating him for more, for things he couldn’t ever know Nathan would resent. For Haley. “You’re right, I do hate you. But you don’t know why.”
“Oh, come on!” Lucas exclaims, shaking his head, “How hard is it to figure out? You’ve preached the exact same things that your dad has, so gee, I don’t know where someone would get the impression that your rationale might be similar.”
“You know nothing!” Nathan shouts, chucking his ball at Lucas, but he’s too angry and it misses by a good five feet, “You never knew anything about me, and you still don’t now!”
Lucas just shakes his head, silently disputing Nathan’s claims. “You’re so wrong, man. I’ve seen enough these last months to get it, to get where your shit stems from. I’m not blind, Nathan; it’s there, for the whole world to see. You’ve got Daddy issues worse than mine.”
“I sincerely doubt that’s the case,” Nathan snaps, giving him as threatening and angry of a look as he can muster, “And for the record, you don’t know shit about me. Very few people do, and you aren’t, and will never be, one of them.”
“Fine,” Lucas agrees, throwing his hands up, “And you know what? I’ve never asked you if I could be one of them, so what is your deal? If it isn’t your dad, why do you hate me? You say it isn’t because of Peyton, but maybe it is, right? I mean, what else is there?”
“You’re nothing, you’re an accident.”
The words hit home, and Lucas takes a staggering step back, his hand flying to his mouth. He balls his hand into a fist, biting down on the knuckles. His first instinct is to swing, but he suppresses it. “If you want to hate me, that’s fine, hate me. I can’t make it otherwise. But at least hate me for something that I did to you.”
Nathan stares at him impassively, trying to act like he’s unfazed by all of this. “You were born, Lucas. I should think that was enough.”
Lucas shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “To think, I’d been feeling bad for you. I was thinking that man, no one could possibly deserve to be stuck with Dan Scott on a daily basis, but hey, you might just fit the bill. He must be really proud of you,” Lucas mutters sarcastically, picking up his ball and making to leave.
“Oh, you think you can just walk away?” Nathan calls after him, “What are you, a fucking coward?”
“I don’t even want to bother anymore,” Lucas sighs, not even slowing in his walk, “I’m sick of this. Maybe there can’t be a truce, but I’m not going to give you more reasons to fight me, to perpetuate this bullshit rivalry.”
“Big words for the pussy who won’t fight,” Nathan bites out spitefully. He hasn’t moved towards Lucas, but part of him wants to charge after him, to make him fight. If he can’t goad him into it verbally, maybe he could do it physically.
“No, no more fighting,” Lucas agrees, finally turning back to face him, “Because it’ll never stop then. And I don’t care anymore if you hate me, but I’m not going to go around making it worse.”
“Screw you,” Nathan spits, “You’re too stupid to even get what’s going on, right? You don’t even see what is in front of your face.”
Lucas stiffens at that, and Nathan knows that something in that hit home. “What does that mean?” Lucas asks defensively.
Nathan grins, realizing that for once in this conversation, he truly has an upper hand. “Oh, come on, if I told you, where’d the fun in that be?”
“Look, whatever you’re planning, it won’t work. Probably all that you’ll accomplish is getting your own ass kicked off the team,” Lucas warns him, shaking his head, “So maybe it’s time to back off and let some things go, Nathan.”
“You know nothing!” Nathan yells, angrily stomping across the court, “What did you ever know about my life, or me, or my dad?”
“Nothing!” Lucas agrees, shouting back at him, “Because none of you ever let me know anything! I was just that thing you ignored, the person you pretended didn’t exist! Believe me, I grew up acutely aware of that, thanks. No need to point it out now.”
“If you’ve noticed, then why are you coming into our world? You don’t belong here, Lucas!” he rubs in, “Go home, get out of all of our lives.”
Sighing in resignation, Lucas nods. “Yeah. Well, I guess it’d be too much to think you might just give me one chance compared to all the ones that you’ve had. Did you ever wonder how it would’ve been if I’d gone to the fancy camps, had the fancy shoes, and the home gym? Does it make you nervous, knowing that I’ve taken your position now? No wonder you’re such a jerk, constantly being afraid of losing everything.”
“Thanks,” Nathan mutters, more to himself than as an attempt to rile Lucas up again, “Thanks for ruining the best morning of my life.”
Lucas turns and walks off, and this time, Nathan lets him go. What else can either of them say? As soon as he’s gone, though, Nathan deflates, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. If he was smart, he’d have just ignored Lucas, let him spout off his pseudo-intellectual wannabe bullshit, and then left. But no, he had to provoke him with every nasty taunt he could think of. And Haley was going to hear about it, he just knew it.
So what was his problem, why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Sometimes he felt like he was a self-saboteur, never letting himself find any measure of peace or happiness, always wrecking things with the need to prove something to someone. But this time….this time he was afraid he’s sabotaging the one person he needs and the one person he should be proving himself to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Haley, Haley James!” a cheerful voice calls her from behind, and she whirls around, more than a little surprised to see that the voice belongs to one Brooke Davis, someone who has never, ever sought her out before.
Sighing, Haley reluctantly stops, waiting for Brooke. “Can I help you?” she asks, snottier than she’d usually address someone, but Brooke Davis is not a person she has any patience or regard for, and she doesn’t even feel a tiny bit bad about that.
Brooke rears back a little, not used to being blown off or blatantly disliked like this. Most people at least hide it a little. “Um, yeah, actually you can,” Brooke states, trying to sound more confident than she is. “See, here’s the thing, I need a friend.”
Haley blinks, definitely not expecting that. “Um, you have like a hundred of them,” she points out, shaking her head a little to clear it in the fog of Brooke’s perfume, “I don’t really see how I can help you with that.”
“But you totally can!” Brooke bubbles, smiling brightly at the other girl, “See Peyton likes you, and that means that I’d like you, too.”
Haley nods, not following that logic since Peyton currently was still secretary of the I hate Brooke Davis club. “Well, that’s nice, but I still don’t really see how that pertains.”
Brooke puffs out a breath in exasperation. “Because Peyton might hate me right now, which by the way? Is totally unwarranted. But anyway, the point is, she’ll see that eventually, and she won’t hate me forever. And I trust her judgment, you know? So if you’re good enough for P. Sawyer, you are certainly good enough for me.”
“Wow, thanks!” Haley says with the fakest cheer she’s ever mustered, “But again, I am still not getting why that should mean anything to me, Brooke. And oh, look! The bell is about to ring. I should get to class.”
“I want to be your friend,” Brooke blurts out, a touch desperately.
Haley turns back to her, her eyes wide with surprise. “Okay,” she drawls out slowly, “Is this the part where your idiot friends and followers jump out with cameras and you all have a good laugh at my expense?”
“Okay, maybe that’s fair,” Brooke allows, her eyes shuttering, “But I swear, this isn’t some elaborate plot to amuse ourselves by punking you or whatever. I promise.”
“Funny how I can’t really take into account the promises of a girl who roofied my best friend,” Haley sneers, giving up any pretenses of civility, “I guess that pretty much closes this conversation. Unless your cameras really are hiding, and I clue a few people in on just how selfish and hateful you are.”
Brooke is clearly taken about by Haley’s mini-tirade, and she reacts the only way she’s ever known how to react - lash back. “I know about you and Nathan,” she hisses, “So maybe I wouldn’t be quite so high and mighty and dismissive, if I were you.”
As expected, Haley pales, stopping short. All color has drained out of her face, and she regards Brooke with dawning horror. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she manages to get out in a strangled whisper, “You have no clue what you’re talking about, Brooke.”
“Oh, I think I do, Tutor Girl,” Brooke snits back at her, dropping her attempt at kindness, “I know all about you two and your torrid little affair or whatever you’d call it.”
“How…?”
“Please, like Nathan was going to keep his mouth shut about it?” Brooke laughs cruelly, “Please, don’t be so naïve. Nathan might get a kick out of that, but I really just find it to be trite and way too cutesy for you to pull off.”
“Nathan told you?” Haley says softly, wrapping her arms around her middle to ward off the sudden chill she got, “Nathan. Nathan told you that there was something going on between us?”
Brooke shrugs. “Not exactly. But he told Dim, and lord knows that boy can’t keep a secret, even if it would save his life.”
Haley breathes a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t had reason to think Nathan was talking about them, but she had to admit to herself that she believed the worst when Brooke insinuated he had. This is one time she definitely does not mind being proved wrong.
The relief is short-lived, though, when she remembers that there is a larger problem here: Brooke knowing about them. “I don’t know what you think you know, or what Tim is telling you, but it really isn’t something you need to worry about, is it?”
Brooke smiles, shrugging. “In most respects, no, it isn’t. But see, like I was saying earlier, I need a friend.”
“And you think that you can blackmail me into being your friend? You would actually want to get a ‘friend’ in that manner? Crack kills, Brooke. You might want to lay off,” Haley suggests tartly, projecting an outward calm that was definitely belying her inner freak out. Brooke Davis is several things - a known slut, a bitch, and a gossip, and right now, it was the latter of the trio that was scaring Haley half to death.
Brooke rolls her eyes. “Well, I suppose I can’t blackmail you into being my friend,” she notes thoughtfully, “But I can blackmail you into spending time with me. The rest should come naturally. We can work on the friendship thing from there, as you’ll see when you get to know me I’m a very loyal friend.”
“Again, you roofied your best friend’s boyfriend. How’s that loyal?” Haley snaps, about to come unglued, “Why don’t you just spell out what you want from me?”
“Your help in getting Lucas to like me,” she says bluntly, her fists squeezing into balls when Haley starts laughing at her, “I’m serious. I’m not going to ask you to start pushing me yet, but I think once you get to know me, you’ll see I have a bad rap.”
“Doubtful,” Haley sighs, tapping her foot impatiently. She wants to run off and call Nathan, and let him know what is going on here, let him know that Brooke knows. It’s a little funny to her that he is always her first reaction now, but she figures it is what it is. “Why are you doing this?”
“I like Lucas,” Brooke answers simply, honestly, “And I want him to be mine. If I can prove to you that I’m worthy of that, then maybe…”
Haley shakes her head, groaning. “Any chance you won’t impose yourself on me? Come on, Brooke. He likes Peyton, and they’re good for each other. Why are you doing this to yourself, to your friend?”
Brooke shrugs, faltering a little. “You don’t get it. Lucas is one of the only truly good guys I’ve ever known. Is it so bad to want that for myself?”
Haley softens a teeny, tiny bit. “No, of course not, but Brooke, the way you’re going about it? Totally bad, and totally, totally wrong.”
“Well, it’s all I’ve got now, isn’t it?” Brooke bites out, “And I’m so sorry I’m not perfect and smart and whatever else it is that you are, but I’m working with what I have, okay?”
“I can’t do this,” Haley sighs, “I can’t play these games with you, Brooke.”
“Then I’ll tell everyone,” Brooke threatens, “I’ll tell Lucas.”
Haley bites her lower lip in frustration, knowing that Brooke has her between a rock and a hard place here. “I’ve never done anything to you,” Haley points out, “And for someone who is saying she wants friends, you’re not really going about it in a very smart way.”
Brooke just shrugs, smiling tightly. “No one ever accused me of being very smart, now did they?”
“Fine. What exactly do I have to do?”
“Just hang out with me,” Brooke tells her, her eyes pleading with Haley to just give in and do this, “We can, I don’t know, what is it that you like to do? Study? Let’s not do that. But we could go to the mall, I love shopping. Or we could go out and party, I could make you a fake ID! Oh, we could get matching tattoos! Peyton’s afraid of needles, but I think it would be so much fun!”
Haley stares at her with dawning horror, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, no, and oh, my God, are you kidding me with this? I’d rather go to another holiday bazaar with my mom and her best friend with those dancing munchkins or whatever they were than do anything that made a permanent change to my body!”
“It won’t be that bad,” Brooke retorts, “Look, just come over to my house tomorrow after cheer practice is over. You’re usually still here then, right?”
Haley nods tiredly. “Yeah, I guess that’s about when tutoring is normally done.”
“Great!” Brooke enthuses, “I have pretty much everything we’ll need for a good time at my house, so don’t worry about bringing anything. Oh, I’ll have to remember to get whipped cream.”
“Are you coming on to me?” Haley asks, taking a wary step back, “Because that’s just not, you know, I mean it’s - “
“Don’t worry, I know you’re all hot for Nathan’s dick, don’t worry, I get that,” Brooke laughs, reaching out to pull Haley into the most awkward hug of her life, “Okay, see you after school tomorrow.”
Haley stares at her as she bounds off down the hall. “Oh, my God, what was that?”
And what has she gotten herself into this time?
~*~
“She is completely psychotic!” Haley rages to Nathan as she tries to wipe off the makeup that Brooke smeared all over her face during their ‘play date’, as Nathan was calling it, “I swear, Nathan, she is psychotic in an ‘eee eee eee’ kind of way!”
“’Eee eee eee’?” he repeats, trying not to laugh, knowing this is one time it would not be appreciated.
“Yes, like horror movie, kill you in your sleep and then strew your insides around the yard for the neighbor’s dog to take home and drop in their bowl, freaking out the family there!” she shudders, glaring at him, “I can’t believe Tim told her, Nathan! And now I’m the one who has to make nice? This - this sucks!”
She flings the washcloth into the sink and stomps out of the bathroom, not even caring if she’s acting like a two year old with this hissy fit. And maybe it wasn’t fair to blame Nathan, but if his stupid best friend had kept his big trap shut, then she wouldn’t be the one suffering for something that both of them did. It just wasn’t fair, and while normally getting him to laugh was a personal mission of sorts, she was not appreciating it right now.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, following behind her, “It is definitely not fair that you’re the one getting punished for this. C’mere, pretty girl.”
“Am I completely being irrational about this?” she asks, letting him pull her into him, “It doesn’t feel like it. God, she wants to prove to me that she’s worthy of breaking up my best friend and his girlfriend. How sick is she?”
He can’t answer that question, because he can’t cast stones. Most people would probably think that what he’s doing is worse, and when he’s being honest, he knows that is the truth. Each word she casts against Brooke hits him, chinking at his armor. It scares him that one day, she’ll break right through it.
Haley pulls back, moving to sit on her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. “She makes me so crazy, Nathan. And every time I try and get out, she’s all, ‘Oh, I have Lucas on speed dial, I’ll just give him a jingle!’” she sneers in a fairly good Brooke impersonation, “But really, this is real life, not a movie. Who messes with people like that? For fun, or for pathetic and unnecessary selfish gain? It makes me sick.”
Wave after nauseating wave of guilt crashes over him, and he actually has to take a step back. This is how she’ll be talking about him soon. It is, and he knows it. There isn’t even anything that he can do to change it, because he put himself on this course, and he can’t back out now. She’ll look at him the same way she looks at Brooke, only it will be so much worse because she actually cares for him. He knows she does, knows that she’s so close to loving him that he can taste it, and that is just going to make things a million times worse when he sends her crashing down.
“I should go,” he whispers uncomfortably, backing towards the door. She looks at up at him blankly, still a little lost in her own thoughts.
“Why would you go?”
“Oh, tired, you know. Hard practice, Whitey is really riding me now that I’m back,” he lies, and it is like second nature to do so now. He hates this process of awareness that he’s going through, where he sees every horrible thing he does for what it is. Sees how easy it is for him to make the wrong choice, tell the smoothest of lies without even flinching. He doesn’t like himself, and he supposes that when Haley doesn’t like him either, it won’t matter anymore.
She looks at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling on about stupid things, and you’ve actually had a hard day. Um, you can stay here,” she offers, still a little shy about it. They haven’t slept together yet, and they’re running out of nights with her family gone and the house to themselves. “You could even crash in here, and I’d take Tay’s room, if you’re really tired,” she offers, getting up to pull him back into the room.
It’s killing him, that she cares so much. That she’s putting him ahead of herself, the same way she does for her family and for Lucas. He doesn’t deserve that from her, but it is what he’s getting and he can’t really refuse it. And he can’t stand the idea of turning his back on it, either.
“You don’t have to give up your bed for me,” he tells her quietly, leaning down to touch his cheek to hers. He wants this girl so bad, and yet he feels impotent when it comes to doing something about it. Like if he sleeps with her like they both want, he’d just be taking something from her that maybe he doesn’t need to.
“Then we can share it,” she suggests, tugging him towards it, “Not like it’s the first time, right?”
He smiles at her. “You’re so good to me.”
She blinks, surprised at the tender comment. “I - is that a bad thing?” she can’t help but ask.
He laughs, shaking his head. “No, it’s not a bad thing at all. I was just thinking that I’m really lucky to have you. You - you make my life better.”
“Oh, Nathan,” she sighs, throwing her arms around him, “You make mine better, too. Just get in bed, I have to go change.”
He raises his eyebrows at her. “Or you could just change in here,” he suggests, shrugging out of his hoodie, “I wouldn’t mind too much.”
“You’re too kind,” she smiles ruefully, shaking her hair off her face, “Just get in there.”
“Not until you’re getting in, too,” he bargains, his hands coming up to finger the buttons on her shirt, “Can I?”
“May I,” she corrects automatically, nodding slowly, “And yes, you may.”
He grins lazily, not even the slightest bit deterred by the impromptu grammar lesson. “Maybe I can kiss Brooke right out of your head, huh?” he suggests, popping the first button free from its hole.
“Maybe you can,” she agrees coyly, reaching out for the hem of his t-shirt, smiling when he steps back and lifts his arms for her. “In fact, I’d put good money on it that you could.”
When he’s free of the shirt, she lays her hands on his chest, palms flat as she slides them over the smooth skin. He groans aloud when she brushes her fingers over his nipple, tugging lightly on the ring there. Not one to be passive, he brings his hands back up, making short work of her buttons, and sliding the shirt down her arms.
Her bra is pink, and lacy, and completely unlike anything else he’s ever seen her wear, and the blush staining her cheeks is a good indicator that she bought it just for an occasion like this.
“Yes, it’s new,” she admits, “And yes, I bought it with you in mind, and I hope you like. Oh, but if you don’t, I mean, if you think black or some other color would be better, then - “
“Okay,” he laughs, after silencing her with a kiss, “It’s nice, Hay. I like it. I like you in it, mostly. And I’ll like you even better out of it.”
She nods nervously. “Isn’t it weird that we spend so much money on things like this, bras and panties and lingerie, and then we just take them off?”
Her nervous babbling should be a turn-off, but it is just another thing that endears her more to him. He brushes her hair out of her face, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I don’t know,” he answers the rhetorically asked question, “But I’m awfully glad you do.”
She leans into him, her fingers trailing down his abs, hesitating when they hit the top button of his jeans. “May I?” she asks, repeating his earlier question.
Heat flares in his eyes at the implications of the questions, and he nods in response, not sure if he’d be able to form words right now. She smiles hesitantly at him, her fingers brushing down the front of the fly, just barely grazing the denim, but he feels it. Oh, how he feels it.
She glances up at him, studying his face to find approval of her actions, and when his cheeks infuse with pink heat, she gets it. She brushes against him again, more purposefully this time, more definite, and he thrusts lightly against her hand. She lifts her other hand to him, slipping it just beneath the waistband, the backs of her fingers warm against his bare skin.
She keeps her eyes on him continually as she pops the buttons, wanting to drink in his reactions. Needs to know if he likes her touch, what he reacts to and what he doesn’t. She undoes the buttons slowly, teasing and deliberate as she slides the hand not on the buttons just below the waistband of his boxers.
His pupils dilate, and he moans again, his gaze fixed on her hands, watching every move they make over him. She stretches up onto her toes as she pops the last button, pressing a kiss over his mouth, her tongue tracing over the seam of his lips. His comes out to meet her, playfully stroking against her as she slips her hand into his jeans, cupping her hand lightly around him.
“Haley,” he moans, trying to resist the very, very strong urge to thrust in her hand until he comes, “God, baby, you feel so good.”
She tips her head back, again staring at him as she moves her free hand up his chest and then back down. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his lips are damp and parted. He’s never looked more beautiful to her than he does now, either.
Growing bolder, she shifts her hand experimentally, grinning to herself when he actually thrusts into her hand. He’s so controlled with her, so damn careful, and she just needs to prove to herself that he has that same wild urge for her that she has for him. When he lets go like that, reacts with a little spontaneity, it gives her a boldness she might not otherwise have.
Using the hand not occupied with touching him in the most intimate of ways, she pushes his pants down, smiling - and blushing - at him when he steps out of them. “I think I am way underdressed,” he murmurs huskily, his head dropping down at level with hers.
She shakes her head, her eyes teasing as she moves her hands up to the waistband of his boxers. As she’s pushing them off, she smiles at him, her gaze never wavering from his face, no matter how much she wants to look. “Now maybe you’re a little underdressed,” she offers when he kicks the boxers off.
He backs her into the wall, not even caring that he’s completely naked and she’s almost fully clothed. He doesn’t even worry about the roughness of her jeans against his legs or the way her nails dig into his biceps as he lifts her slightly, her legs wrapping loosely around his hips, rubbing intimately against her exposed stomach.
Pinning her to the wall with his hips, he leans back enough to work the front clasp of her bra, grinning when it easily slides apart, revealing her completely delicious looking breasts to his eyes. “Pants off,” he manages to gasp out, “Baby, we have to get your pants off.”
She fists her hand in his hair, tugging his mouth to hers. She lets her legs fall to the ground, pushing at his chest so he gives her the space she needs to get the pants off, which she quickly does. She moves to push her panties, which match the lacy pink bra, of course, down as well, but he covers her hands with his own, effectively stopping her.
“I want to,” he tells her, his eyes on her breasts as his hands slide from her hips, up her waist, to brush lightly against them. She sighs, leaning towards him, craving more of his touch. He guides her over to the bed, sitting down and moving her to stand between his legs. “You’re so beautiful, Haley.”
She shifts her weight from foot to foot, nervous under his scrutiny. He slides his hands up her legs, cupping her ass to pull her closer to him. He smiles up at her, not missing the way she’s always watching him, gauging his reactions to her and her body, trying to see what he likes. He could tell her everything, that he wants and loves and lusts for everything on her and about her and that she does, but he figures she needs to be able to see that herself.
He lowers his head, grazing his nose against the bottom of her rib cage. She gasps at the contact, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders for support, to keep her legs under her. His lips make contact with the skin, his tongue slipping out to taste her, and he drags it higher, teasing over the bottom curve of her breast.
Her legs feel like jelly, and she cries out when his lips slide high enough to capture a nipple between them. He smiles against her skin, loving the reaction he’s able to draw out of her. Her fingernails are digging slightly into the skin of his shoulders, but he barely feels that. How could he feel anything else when she’s damn near naked and pressed right against him?
She arches against him, the bare skin of her belly pressing into his chest, and this time, he’s the one moaning. His mouth teases her breast more, his tongue circling around her nipple, not quite giving her what she wants. So she presses closer, one of her hands leaving his shoulder to hold his head to her, telling him without words that she wants more. That he doesn’t have to treat her like she is porcelain.
Dropping her other hand from his shoulder, she trails it down his chest, pausing to tug lightly on his nipple right - which is a surprising turn-on for her - before reaching lower, taking him in her hand. His eyes widen in surprise, glancing up at her as he tries to maintain his focus on her breasts, which really, is not a struggle.
He pulls her down to the bed with him, rolling her under him so that the only thing between them is her panties. He lifts his head, smiling at her. “Is this okay?”
She rolls her eyes, laughing a little. “It’s more than okay,” she assures, moving to prove that assertion by lifting her hips and rubbing against him, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. “See? I want this, Nathan.”
“Yeah,” he nods, his head dropping down to kiss her neck, across her collarbone, and finally, down her chest. “You’re gorgeous,” he says sincerely, and she smirks to herself since he says it more to her breasts than to her.
He knows just where to touch to make her crazy, just where to kiss to get her gasping or moaning, and what to say to get her blushing. When he props himself up on his elbows, smiling down at her as his finger traces over her cheek, she almost blurts out that she loves him. She doesn’t know why, exactly, she’s holding back, since she’s pretty sure that he knows it would be implied for her to be so eager to be with him like this, but something keeps her from screaming it out.
Maybe it’s just the need not to be the first one, to be sure that he feels even close to how she does before giving him that portion of herself that would give him the power to destroy her. And it isn’t even that she’s afraid of getting hurt by him; it is just that general survival instinct everyone has. That part of her that only wants to give what she knows she is getting in return.
He breaks her out of her reverie by trailing his fingers up her inner thighs, teasing ever higher. It is dizzying and breathtaking and oh so amazing to have him touching her like this, and she would so have to kill him if he stopped this time. And he’s kissing her breasts and sliding his fingers below her panties, and she never wants this to end, even though she’s nervous just the same.
Shifting up higher, he fists his free hand in her hair, bringing her mouth to his in a hard, hot kiss that steals the last of her breath, leaving her panting. He wants to be on her, in her, so he tries to be as many places as he can at once, lifting his head to make sure she’s comfortable with what he does. That he doesn’t hurt her. Shit, he hopes he doesn’t hurt her.
“Nathan, I want you,” she gasps out laboriously, her body arching into his hand, “Please, I need you now.”
“Almost, baby,” he tells her, trying to smile reassuringly, even though he’s maybe the one who needs that reassurance right now. He knows that she’s nervous, it is there in the slight tightness around her mouth, but he knows that he’s feeling it more acutely than she is, too. “I don’t - I have to make sure you’re ready.”
Her eyes open wide as he slips a long finger into her, his thumb moving to brush a ghost of a touch over her clit. Knowing that he’s nervous, knowing that he’s worried about whether she’s okay with all this, she does her best to fight through the passion-induced haze to smile at him. “I think it’s time to take them off,” she manages to whisper, gesturing to her panties.
He pauses, a huge grin breaking out across his face. “That’s one of the big reasons why I love you, Haley James. You can always make me laugh, no matter what the situation is.”
The way he says it, so nonchalantly, so matter-of-factly, so just like something it is takes her breath away more than any touch he could give her. It’s just so there and there is so much honesty behind the words that are so casually said, that she chokes up, letting her head fall back so he doesn’t see how much they touch her.
He presses a kiss to the underside of her chin before moving back to drag her panties down her hips. “This still okay?” he asks worriedly, no more barriers between them at all, and it makes him all the more nervous.
She sits up, wrapping one arm around his neck while the other brushes across down his chest. “It’s more than okay, Nathan. I’m ready.”
He smiles ruefully, leaning into her touch. “I don’t know if I am,” he admits, “I’ve never - I mean, with a virgin. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she promises, then scrunches her nose up a little, “Okay, my mom is a nurse, I know that probably isn’t true. But it’s not like you’re stabbing me in the back or anything. It’ll be fine, better than fine.”
He smiles, nodding his agreement, even though her comment hits a little too close to home. Because he is stabbing her in the back, every second that they’re together. Every second that goes by that he leads her on and withholds his true intentions just drives the knife in a little deeper. It’s awful, and he knows it. He’s awful.
She lies back on the bed, keeping her arm around him to tug him down with her. She’s in control, and that’s okay with him. It’s safer, it’s better - and oh, god, did he say he loved her? He stares down at her, trying to see if there was any recognition or reaction to his words. She tries to lean up to kiss him, but he pushes himself out of her reach.
“What?” she asks, searching his face carefully, “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks quietly, all the right parts of him touching the right, the so, so right parts of her, which almost drive him to distraction. He has to hear this now, he has to know that what he said doesn’t change things for her, for them. That it is still okay, that his love is something that she wants.
She blinks, surprised he’s bringing it up. “I heard,” she admits quietly, staring down at his chest in a futile bid to avoid eye contact, since he scoots down so that he can look at her. “I love you, too,” she blurts out in typical Haley fashion, “I love you, and I have for awhile now. Oh, God, is this the bad time to say that?”
He practically falls on her, completely covering her little body with his own. “I think this is the perfect time to say that,” he grins, ecstatic over her words. Everything else, good or bad, flies from his head. The knowledge that she loves him is more than enough for him right now, and he’s ready to cement that. “I love you.”
“Oh, Nathan,” she sighs, tears filling her eyes, her body soft and warm and willing against him, “Then make love to me, now.”
She reaches out, grabbing a condom off the table next to the bed. Once her mother realized how serious things were between her youngest daughter and her boyfriend, she made sure she was well stocked with the necessities. Haley was embarrassed at first, but now she couldn’t have been happier or more grateful for the intrusion.
She rips open the package, taking it out, but lets him roll it on, something that he’s grateful for. The feel of her hands on him now would not be conducive to drawing things out, as it were. His hand finds her cheek, cupping it gently as he kisses her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in a promise of what is to come. He slides his hand down her body, caressing over her breasts, coming to rest between her legs.
He knows her body is ready for him, hot and wet, and pushing his nerves and fears aside, he guides himself to her, sliding just the tip in, trying to hold out long enough for her to get used to the new sensation. She bites her lower lip, her gaze on his face as he slides into her, satisfied when his eyes screw shut in pleasure. It hurts, but it feels good, and he feels good, and everything else about this is so good that the pain seems completely non-consequential.
When he’s completely inside her, he buries his face in her neck. “I can’t stay still,” he moans out, his breath quick and harsh.
“Okay,” she nods, turning her head to kiss whatever part of him she can reach. She holds her breath as he slides out, and then thrusts back in. That…feels better, and she slides one of her legs up to hook around his hip, trying to shift closer. He is kissing her neck, and then the side of her face, so she turns and meets his lips with her own. “Hi,” she breathes, smiling at him, her breath hitching when he thrusts harder into her, “Oh.”
“I love you,” he tells her again, drawing far too near his peak, knowing he can’t hold out much longer, “Hay…”
He comes, cursing to himself for not waiting for her, even through his own pleasure. “Damn it, Hay, I’m sorry, shit, I’m so sorry,” he fumbles out when he can breathe again, “Damn it.”
She brushes her hand through his hair. To herself, she won’t lie: she’s disappointed. That’s ridiculous, and she knows it, nerd and studying fool that she is, but she does know it. To him, though, she’ll lie like a rug in this one case if it’ll make him feel better. “It’s okay, Nathan.”
He lifts his head, glaring at her. “Haley, it’s not okay, that’s not how it was supposed to happen!” he grounds in frustration, “I - it - I was supposed to be better.”
“I love you, Nathan,” she tells him, and a lot of the frustration-born tension drains from his body, “And it is okay. Um, I mean, we can do it again, right?”
He grins, leaning down to kiss her. “You bet we can,” he agrees, “And if you stay naked and under me for a few more minutes, we can do it then.”
“Okay,” she agrees, laughing as she hugs him to her, holding on to roll with him onto their sides, “I do love you, you know?”
“I know,” he agrees solemnly, his eyes closing as he holds her tighter, “I know.”
He knows, and it is the best, and the worst, thing that could happen to him.
~*~
He walked home the next morning, the heaviness of fear and guilt weighing him down while the absolute lightness of happiness kept it from crushing him. Once he recovered, quickly enough to make Haley grin with appreciation, he showed her just how good it could be, several times. She’d promised him several times that it was fine the first time, but he knew it wasn’t, and if he couldn’t give her the perfect first time, then he’d sure as hell give her a perfect first night.
He has his basketball with him, one that he bought with his own money at a skills camp last summer. Dan had been irritated with him, not liking the brand, not liking that Nathan had done something basketball related without gaining his approval first. And maybe that was why he did it in the first place, to prove to Dan that he had no hold over him. That wasn’t true, and Nathan understood that much now, but then, he’d been naïve enough to think that.
That was something he’d learned recently. When he’d first started this thing with Lucas, and subsequently Haley, maybe a part of it really had been about hating Lucas. Now, though, so much more of it was about making Dan happy, doing something that Dan wanted, no matter how very twisted it was. And boy, was it twisted.
He supposed that part of him still didn’t care much for Lucas, just for what he represented in both parts of his world, home and Haley. At home Lucas was the threat hanging over his head, the kid he had to be better than to prove himself worthy of being ‘picked’. And Haley, Haley loved the bastard. Nathan knew that, knew he wasn’t going to be able to change it, and he resented that. Maybe that’s why it is still so easy to work on changing that, on taking Haley away from him. On making her his.
He stops at the river court on his way through. It is early, too early for anyone to be out yet, and so he stops, hesitantly dribbling across the court. The only reason he left Haley was to get back in time for his morning training session with Dan, but maybe if he comes back obviously having got some in, Dan won’t pitch too big of a fit.
At least that’s one thing he could count on from his dad. The locker incidents aside, he never got physical with him. It was usually just a bunch of threats and whining and bitching and manipulating, and Nathan had got to a point where a lot of that didn’t phase him. Oh, some did, of course, but a lot he could ignore, too. Maybe that was a shadowed bright side, but it was something.
As he starts to shoot, the same shot over and over, he doesn’t realize that he has an audience. Even when he goes through the entire routine his father laid out for him - fifty shots from each designated point - he doesn’t notice anyone else there.
Lucas steps out of the shadows when Nathan pauses, his own basketball - older and rattier - clutched under his arm as he regards his younger half-brother cautiously. “Didn’t figure you’d deign to venture to this part of town often,” he drawls out, but there is no heat or provocation behind the words.
“Guess you don’t know enough about me to figure much of anything,” Nathan retorts, tensing up at the sight of him, “But hey, this dump was just convenient.”
“Gee, it loves you, too,” Lucas sighs, watching him warily, never sure what to expect from the volatile young man in front of him, “Seriously, don’t you have some perfectly paved sport court to play on or something? Daddy slipping?”
“Yup,” Nathan answers affirmatively, “He sure is slipping. Just like when he slipped and accidentally got his dick stuck in your mom, resulting in the waste that is you. Oops.”
Lucas’s hands clench into tight balls, and he lets the basketball slip from his grasp. “Screw you, man. You’re pathetic, and - and……not even worth. You are so not worth it.”
“Not worth what? A good fight? I don’t know about that, I throw some good punches,” Nathan continues to taunt him, not sure what is possessing him, “Come on, is that what you want? To fight?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Lucas shoots back, “I don’t want to fight you. I like being on the team, I like being able to play in all the games. Just leave my mother out of it. Dan - your father - has hurt and screwed her over enough that she doesn’t deserve to have any ignorant bullshit come out of your mouth, too. She’s worth so much more than that.”
“Fuck off,” Nathan mutters, “What do you know about worth? It’s not like paupers really have much to base it off of, right?”
“I guess I know the value of a lot more things than you do,” Lucas sighs, too tired of this game of push and shove to even shove back anymore, “Whatever. Keep shooting, man. I can find somewhere else to go.”
“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” Nathan snarks, unable to just let Lucas walk away from this. He doesn’t know why he is pushing for a fight here, but he thinks maybe it has something to do with the guilt he’s feeling over what he’s doing to Haley. “No wonder everyone thinks you’re so wonderful, huh?”
Lucas shakes his head, squinting at Nathan tiredly. “You know, I used to hate you because I thought you had it so much better, so much easier than me and my mom did. I was wrong. You weren’t the lucky one, I was. And you can hate me for that all you want, or you can hate me because that’s what Dan is telling you to do, but it isn’t going to change the fact that I escaped him and you didn’t.”
Nathan glares at him, hating him for all those things. Hating him for more, for things he couldn’t ever know Nathan would resent. For Haley. “You’re right, I do hate you. But you don’t know why.”
“Oh, come on!” Lucas exclaims, shaking his head, “How hard is it to figure out? You’ve preached the exact same things that your dad has, so gee, I don’t know where someone would get the impression that your rationale might be similar.”
“You know nothing!” Nathan shouts, chucking his ball at Lucas, but he’s too angry and it misses by a good five feet, “You never knew anything about me, and you still don’t now!”
Lucas just shakes his head, silently disputing Nathan’s claims. “You’re so wrong, man. I’ve seen enough these last months to get it, to get where your shit stems from. I’m not blind, Nathan; it’s there, for the whole world to see. You’ve got Daddy issues worse than mine.”
“I sincerely doubt that’s the case,” Nathan snaps, giving him as threatening and angry of a look as he can muster, “And for the record, you don’t know shit about me. Very few people do, and you aren’t, and will never be, one of them.”
“Fine,” Lucas agrees, throwing his hands up, “And you know what? I’ve never asked you if I could be one of them, so what is your deal? If it isn’t your dad, why do you hate me? You say it isn’t because of Peyton, but maybe it is, right? I mean, what else is there?”
“You’re nothing, you’re an accident.”
The words hit home, and Lucas takes a staggering step back, his hand flying to his mouth. He balls his hand into a fist, biting down on the knuckles. His first instinct is to swing, but he suppresses it. “If you want to hate me, that’s fine, hate me. I can’t make it otherwise. But at least hate me for something that I did to you.”
Nathan stares at him impassively, trying to act like he’s unfazed by all of this. “You were born, Lucas. I should think that was enough.”
Lucas shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “To think, I’d been feeling bad for you. I was thinking that man, no one could possibly deserve to be stuck with Dan Scott on a daily basis, but hey, you might just fit the bill. He must be really proud of you,” Lucas mutters sarcastically, picking up his ball and making to leave.
“Oh, you think you can just walk away?” Nathan calls after him, “What are you, a fucking coward?”
“I don’t even want to bother anymore,” Lucas sighs, not even slowing in his walk, “I’m sick of this. Maybe there can’t be a truce, but I’m not going to give you more reasons to fight me, to perpetuate this bullshit rivalry.”
“Big words for the pussy who won’t fight,” Nathan bites out spitefully. He hasn’t moved towards Lucas, but part of him wants to charge after him, to make him fight. If he can’t goad him into it verbally, maybe he could do it physically.
“No, no more fighting,” Lucas agrees, finally turning back to face him, “Because it’ll never stop then. And I don’t care anymore if you hate me, but I’m not going to go around making it worse.”
“Screw you,” Nathan spits, “You’re too stupid to even get what’s going on, right? You don’t even see what is in front of your face.”
Lucas stiffens at that, and Nathan knows that something in that hit home. “What does that mean?” Lucas asks defensively.
Nathan grins, realizing that for once in this conversation, he truly has an upper hand. “Oh, come on, if I told you, where’d the fun in that be?”
“Look, whatever you’re planning, it won’t work. Probably all that you’ll accomplish is getting your own ass kicked off the team,” Lucas warns him, shaking his head, “So maybe it’s time to back off and let some things go, Nathan.”
“You know nothing!” Nathan yells, angrily stomping across the court, “What did you ever know about my life, or me, or my dad?”
“Nothing!” Lucas agrees, shouting back at him, “Because none of you ever let me know anything! I was just that thing you ignored, the person you pretended didn’t exist! Believe me, I grew up acutely aware of that, thanks. No need to point it out now.”
“If you’ve noticed, then why are you coming into our world? You don’t belong here, Lucas!” he rubs in, “Go home, get out of all of our lives.”
Sighing in resignation, Lucas nods. “Yeah. Well, I guess it’d be too much to think you might just give me one chance compared to all the ones that you’ve had. Did you ever wonder how it would’ve been if I’d gone to the fancy camps, had the fancy shoes, and the home gym? Does it make you nervous, knowing that I’ve taken your position now? No wonder you’re such a jerk, constantly being afraid of losing everything.”
“Thanks,” Nathan mutters, more to himself than as an attempt to rile Lucas up again, “Thanks for ruining the best morning of my life.”
Lucas turns and walks off, and this time, Nathan lets him go. What else can either of them say? As soon as he’s gone, though, Nathan deflates, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. If he was smart, he’d have just ignored Lucas, let him spout off his pseudo-intellectual wannabe bullshit, and then left. But no, he had to provoke him with every nasty taunt he could think of. And Haley was going to hear about it, he just knew it.
So what was his problem, why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Sometimes he felt like he was a self-saboteur, never letting himself find any measure of peace or happiness, always wrecking things with the need to prove something to someone. But this time….this time he was afraid he’s sabotaging the one person he needs and the one person he should be proving himself to.