pairing: dick/garth
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, they just have fun hanging out with me...
archive: just here
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“It’s all about possession, really. And not just of the ball. It’s very mental; strategy is key. You would not believe how much a role momentum plays.”
Garth sat on the couch next to his lover, intently watching the lines of his neck, and arms, and back, as Dick stared with an unbelievable focus at the tv. The game was called football, and Dick was patiently trying to teach Garth the nuances. Apparently, it was very important to Dick to spend his weekends, for only a third the year, thank Pallais!, watching this... game... so he was trying to teach a bit of it to Garth so they could enjoy this weekend ritual together. Garth could give a pound of plankton about football, though. Last night had been late, and hot, and this morning, they had both slept in until, apparently, ‘kick off.’ Garth was interested in possession, and balls, and momentum, but not in football.
“See? This is called the option. It can be hard to defend against, if played correctly. Unfortunately, our quarterback telegraphs his intentions...”
Options. Yes, so many options. So many places to start. Why defend, anyway? Garth leaned a bit closer, and put his arm on the back of the couch, hoping to telegraph a little himself.
“The idea is to get to the goal, but there’s also the clock to think about. There are four full quarters to play. For each play, the important thing is to get the down. The goal line will always be there to cross.”
Yes, it’s important not to forget the *down* on the way to the goal. Plenty of time, after all. Garth scootched a little closer, and let his arm drape further down the couch behind Dick’s back, getting closer to his goal.
“Ok, see, that’s a foul, for ineligible receiver, so we’re gonna lose some yards. This season’s pretty much sucked.”
Garth’s eyes followed the line of Dick’s spine down the thin tank top to the clingy shorts below. No, no ineligible receivers here, thank Pallais... not anymore at any rate. And then, sucking wasn’t always a bad thing...
“Now we have to punt, because it’s fourth down and we have 17 yards to go, so we’re gonna lose possession. Sixth possession we’ve had that we’ve failed to convert on. This is how to *lose* at football.”
Dick looked irritated, and slumped a bit in the seat, drawing him closer to Garth’s waiting arms. Losing possession *is* depressing, Garth knew all too well. Conversion, though... He inched even more towards Dick, closing the gap between them, and placed his hand lightly on Dick’s leg. Dick broke his concentrated stare long enough to give Garth a puzzled look. Garth gave him an innocent look, which worked so much better for him than Dick’s did, and rested his head on Dick’s shoulder. Apparently content that Garth was ‘behaving’ Dick slid his arm around Garth’s waist and settled into the cuddle position.
“Now, this is where special teams would really come into play. The other team has great special teams, see how the receiver weaves around the completely ineffectual defense of our punting team? Good field position is critical if you want to score.”
Pallais, that was *so* true, it seemed silly that Dick felt the need to point it out. Stealthily, Garth nudged his head until his breathe fell across the sensitive region of Dick’s neck, and the hand on the thigh moved soothingly in circles until it was nestled between Dick’s legs just below his crotch.
“So far, we’ve been unable to penetrate their offensive line, and haven’t been able to keep up with their passing game.” Dick sighed. “We’re getting our asses handed to us.”
One would *think* so, but the usual effect Garth’s hands had on Dick’s body seemed to be counteracted by this.. this... *pastime*! Garth spared a look at the tv. He really didn’t understand this sport. The players were covered in so much armor, he really didn’t see the entertainment value. Although, the pants were nice. Not that Garth would say so. A couple of Saturdays ago, Garth had mentioned that he liked the team in the gold lame pants, and Dick had just glared at him and started rattling on about some kind of tradition. Garth really hadn’t paid attention.
“Aw, fuck.”
I’m *trying*, Garth thought...
“See? These guys really know how to capitalize on an opportunity. One weakness in the defense, and they slip through, and get the goal. There’s no stopping when you get to a certain point. 40 yards melt into nothing if you have the proper blocking. This sucks. Now we’re down by three touchdowns. There’s still a whole quarter and a half to go, but....”
Garth thought about what Dick said. Yes, all it took was one chink in the defense, and once you got to a certain point, the only thing left to do is get the goal. So, he promptly plunged his hand up the wide opening of the shorts, to his goal, while sucking as hard as he could (which was pretty hard) on the most sensitive part of Dick’s neck.
Dick tried to cry out “Garth!” but the word was swallowed into a moan as Garth’s other hand got busy pulling at the nipple that was easily accessed by Dick’s loose tank. After a brief bit of, well, full contact foreplay, Dick was raggedly working to get clothes out of the way of skin.
Garth whispered in his ear, “So, have a made a good play? Haven’t gone offsides, have I? Not going to interfere with the pass, are you? How much yardage do you think I’m going to gain?”
Dick tried to think of a suitably witty response, but got distracted by the truly awesome sight of Garth’s lean, naked form leaning possessively over him. He may have made some gurgling noise that would resemble approval before writhing sinuously, trying to encourage contact.
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Dick pulled the blanket that usually resided on the top of the couch over them a bit more. Garth’s head was nestled right where it belonged, as far as Dick was concerned, underneath his chin. Sleeping peacefully. Dick played with a particularly long curl, pulling it out to full length, and watching it sproing back into shape. He loved Garth’s hair. The seconds were clicking down on the playclock, and the players and coaches were already on the field, offering their congratulations to one another.
The Dolphins had taken the Knights down hard, and Dick was grinning like a fool.
He started to reach for the phone even before it began ringing, and didn’t bother with a hello.
“Another great game, huh?”
“The season’s been fucking depressing, excuse my french.”
Dick chuckled at Tim’s, well, frankness. “The Dolphins aren’t even that good!” Well, not the ones that were on the tv... “We’ve got the talent, this should have gone better.” Though, Dick was hard pressed to figure out *how* it could have gone better.
“Maybe next week will go better. The Knights usually get their game up when they play against Bludhaven. Any chance of getting tickets?”
Getting up is so key, too... “Sure. They’re not usually hard to come by. I’ll get a bunch, maybe even Bruce will come down for it.” Yeah, right. Even if Garth wasn’t going to be there, Dick doubted Bruce would come down. A worry for another day. Another life, actually; Dick had spent enough time in this life worrying about that....
“So, has Garth enjoyed his continued education in the game of football?”
Dick looked with unabashed love at his sleeping ‘student.’ “I should certainly *hope* so...” And he couldn’t keep the chuckle out of his voice.
“Well, good. And hey?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure you clean up before you guys end up *really* stuck together...” And the little wise-ass hung up before Dick could respond.
Ah, well. Dick hung up the phone and hugged Garth closer to him.
He just loved weekend rituals.
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