Go ahead, go way low, where I can do no harm
Go ahead, go way low in my honey lovin' arms
Go ahead, go way low, where I can do no wrong
Got you around my finger like a lonely lover's charm (like a lonely lover's charm)
“Get Some” Lykke Li
Tina wakes up Friday morning with the most delicious tension warming her all over. During the fall, she’s always full of low grade excitement on Fridays, because there’s either a football game that night or a competition the next morning – sometimes both – or, at the very least, band parties.
This is different, though, the anticipation rising within her.
Mike isn’t her first boyfriend. She’s been kissed before. She’s hooked up before, though only with one guy and it wasn’t very great. Maybe things would have been different with Artie, if he’d listened to her when she asked him to stop saying such misogynistic things or acting all paternalistic toward her, but he didn’t, and she broke up with him. She hopes they can eventually be friends.
Now there’s Mike. Mike who is so much sweeter than she expected. Mike who’s lurked in the background of the football team for years, who tucked himself in the middle of the French horns and rarely said a word. She never really noticed him back then because he didn’t want to be noticed, and she is so glad, so glad she had Lauren and Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt. They are all vibrant people, vivacious people, their personalities sometimes overwhelming. Without them, she would have fallen deep into her own shyness, too shaking and nervous to find her own voice.
They didn’t save her. She didn’t need to be saved. What they did was better. They caught her and braced her until she could rise up, her voice so clear, and find herself in the flip and spin and twist of color guard.
So she thinks she understands a little about Mike. Maybe he’s not shy, maybe he’s just an introvert, quiet and at peace. He and Matt certainly seem to be tight in their silence. But she knows what it’s like to fade into the background, and she knows what it’s like to catch all those little racist moments which happen so often in white-washed Lima.
For all that, though, Mike was just another football player until he showed up for color guard tryouts at the end of freshman year with a routine that blew everyone away. He exploded around that gym, making his body bend and pop in ways she couldn’t believe was real. His dancing was phenomenal, but add a rifle whipping around his hands and there was no way he wasn’t in.
They spent sophomore year dancing around each other, literally on the field and figuratively off it, getting to know each other. He was a little shy and very quiet, but she liked that. He was the one who held her hand and sat with her in silence the night she came out.
God, everything hurt then. She was hungover, dehydrated and headachy, and her heart hurt after Kurt’s casual biphobia and her own fear, her own anger forcing out words she wasn’t sure she was ready to say.
She couldn’t go to Lauren, not then. Lauren would rage and rant, her anger vicious and understandable, but Tina wields her own righteous blade of equality. Nor did she need Quinn’s cold storm of fury. What she really wanted was Mercedes to pet her hair and hug her and promise everything would be okay, but when it came down to it, no matter how wrong Kurt was or how much she loved Tina, Mercedes would have his back first, and then call him on his shit when they were alone.
But Mike was at that party, and when he found her outside, sitting on the curb, he didn’t say anything, just sank down next to her, his feet in the street too, reached over and took her hand, and sat with her in the deep dark night.
She thinks she started loving him then.
That was before summer camp, and how sweet he was with the kids, and how much he made her laugh, and how nice his voice sounded when he opened up and talked about the pressures his parents put on him and how he didn’t want the same life they did. That was before he surprised the hell out of her when he told her how much he loved football but how much he hated the popularity game that went with it. That was before she knew how good he tasted, his lips slightly chapped but oh so gentle, and the way he cupped the back of her head as if she was precious.
So yes, Fridays are good days in the fall, but this Friday, she buzzes with excitement for Mike more than anything else.
After school, Tina’s standing at her locker when Lauren comes up and starts smirking. Tina swings her skirts forward, twisting the heel of one boot against the floor, and raises her eyebrows.
“What’s that look about?”
“Tina’s gonna get some,” Lauren sing-songs.
She nods, fighting against the smile. “That’s the truth, and it’s going to be good.”
Lauren laughs, tilting her head back. “Where are you going?”
“Breadstix and--” but Mike’s walking toward them and it’s a surprise. Lauren quickly spins open her locker, giving them a moment. Tina holds one hand out for Mike, and he takes it, slipping their fingers together and stepping into her space. She turns up her face for a kiss, quick and sweet. It’s only a prelude for what comes later, but whole songs bloom on her tongue when she sweeps it along the seam of his mouth.
“God, get a room.” Lauren’s laughing even as she says it, and she slams her locker shut, the sharp clang lost to the noise around them. Tina turns to look at her, and she leans against the lockers, grinning wider than ever.
She’s been like that all day, the sting gone out of her teasing, and if Tina thinks about it too hard, her anger starts to burn. Noah Puckerman is not worth a moment of her girls’ time, and yet they keep falling for him. It’s like he’s got balls of pure gold or some wicked addicting pheromones or something, and she hates it.
But Lauren’s eyes are bright, and Tina loves to see her so flirty and giddy and happy. She just wishes someone else was the object of her affections. Anyone else.
“Hey Lauren.” Mike ducks his head a little. “Big plans this weekend?”
She shrugs. “Just trying to enjoy our last free time for awhile.” She swings her backpack over one shoulder, drumsticks sticking up from an outside pocket. “Gotta hit the library before practice. Have fun, you two.” Her words are innocent enough, but her grin devious. Tina rolls her eyes and waves her away.
“I have to run to the store for my mom.” Mike squeezes her hand. “Can you give me a ride?”
“I’m all yours.” Tina beams up at him, swaying into him a little. He bends his face to hers, kissing her again, sweet kisses that leave her wanting more. She laces her fingers together along the back of his neck, urging him down, urging him closer, closer, closer, and he bends beneath her touch.
She could love this boy of secrets and silence and silky kisses. Happiness blooms inside her, and Tina thinks, oh, she already does.
Their talk is light at Breadsticks, not so much superficial, because the things they say mean something to them, but casual, because they are in public and the serious words are for each other alone.
But Mike talks about Coach Beiste and all the changes she’s making and how they’re actually starting to feel good, he can’t wait for their first game next week. Tina grabs his hand and squeezes his fingers, equal parts amused by the idolization in his tone and giddy over the thought that maybe, maybe they will march for a winning football team for once.
Tina gushes about the new Angry Birds edition for Rio and how the shriek of the monkeys when she fails makes her want to throw her phone against the wall. She shows him the rough edge where it slipped from her fingers in the parking lot, and it’s a good thing it did, because she probably would have thrown it on that final boss level.
Mike invites her swimming in the morning, with him and Matt, and something warm unfurls in her chest, because she knows their time is important, just like the time she spends with Lauren is precious and they carve it out no matter how busy their schedules.
She says yes, of course, because there’s no way she can turn down the chance to see those abs of his in the sun.
Dinner goes like that, give and take, back and forth, and Tina’s cheeks hurt, she’s smiling so hard.
When they’re done, finally, finally, she can surprise him.
Mike heads toward her car when they leave, but she stops him, wrapping her hand around his wrist. “Close your eyes,” she orders, and he does so without question. That is just delightful, how fast he responds, and she beams at him for a second even though he can’t see it.
Even though he’s not supposed to be able to see it, but he smiles back. Maybe it’s reflex. Maybe he just smiles around her. Maybe he’s cheating. She rolls her eyes and extracts a black scarf from her purse. It’s light weight enough it won’t make him sweat or anything, but heavy duty enough if she folds it right, he won’t be able to see through it. She tested it on Lauren to make sure. Lauren, unsurprisingly, is very bad at taking directions when trying to walk wearing a blindfold.
Odds are good Mike will be better, and what she wants is just around the corner anyway.
He ducks when she presses down on his shoulder, and doesn’t flinch when she slips the scarf over his eyes and pulls the ends around behind his head.
“This is new,” he murmurs, a dark note to his voice that makes her fingers shake. She manages to tie it off anyway, then slips her arm through his. They walk around the corner together, but the second she opens the door, she realizes she should have brought earplugs too.
The clang of machines and chime of games and laughter is loud. Mike quivers a little, one hand brushing the blindfold, but he doesn’t remove it.
The machines she wants are just inside the door, near the window. She plants him in front of them with a quick, “Stay put,” and quickly gets a cup of quarters. He stays where she puts him, but when she gets back, he has one hand on the balance bar, and she’s pretty sure he knows what she’s doing.
Surprise or not, they’ll still have fun.
Tina sets down the cup of quarters and reaches for the blindfold. It flutters against her fingertips as she gets it free. Mike blinks, but doesn’t look around; his attention is all for her.
“Mike Chang,” she rises up on her toes, “will you dance with me?”
He cups her face, his thumbs pressed against her cheeks, and kisses her so sweetly, his lips blooming soft against hers.
Then he kicks her ass nine times out of ten at Dance Dance Revolution, but she’s way too happy to care.
“You want to come over?” Tina asks, her tone carefully casual. Her hair is pulled back into a low knot, damp and cool against the back of her neck. They’ve been swimming for hours, Matt and Mike and Tina, and she’s pleasantly worn out, hungry, and thirsty. Matt has plans later, but he smiled at her when he left, and he actually said more than two words while they swam, so it feels like progress. She glances sideways at Mike, and then quickly away. “My parents are out of town for the night.”
Mike is quiet a moment, but he reaches over and takes her hand. His fingers are callused when he strokes them along her skin and it makes her shiver. “Yes,” he says at last, his voice low. “I’d like that.”
She plans to shower as soon as she gets home, let Mike have the run of the family room, but the second the front door shuts behind them, she turns, keys still in hand, and grabs him, pulling him in for a kiss. He goes willingly, wrapping her arms around her, and does even flinch when she accidentally scrapes the keys along the side of his neck.
They smell like lake water and sweat and sunscreen, but she doesn’t care, not when she can slip her tongue into his mouth, not when he presses against her, the weight of his body carrying her down the hall. The keys slip from her fingers, and she lets them fall.
She stops them long enough to tug Mike’s shirt over his head and leave it in the doorway to the living room. He’s working his fingers along the waistband of her skirt when they hit the couch, and she scoots up onto the arm, because she doesn’t need to get naked, not when she’s just wearing bikini bottoms beneath it. She wraps her legs around him, pressing her heels to the backs of his thighs and pushing him against her until he figures it out.
He drops his head to her should with a groan, thrusting forward too, and then he puts a little space between them. She’s balance precariously, but hangs on to the back of the couch so she can watch him work her skirt up her thighs. He sneaks little glances up at her face as he does so, but mostly he watches as he bares her before him.
It’s a trick, getting enough leverage to cant up her hips so he can peel off the bottom half of her bathing suit, but then it’s on the hardwood – god, she hopes it’s not wet enough to leave a mark – and even as she reaches for him, intending to pull him into a kiss, he drops to his knees, takes a deep breath, and buries his face between her thighs.
Tina keens, a sound she’s never heard herself make before, but then she’s never felt quite like this. Masturbation is good, and she has some excellent toys, but his mouth is warm and his tongue agile, and when he pushes two fingers inside, Tina finally, finally understands why it’s sometimes called the little death, because she can’t breathe and she’s pretty sure her heart is about to beat right out of her chest.
Then Mike just keeps going, mouth and tongue and fingers. He shakes his head back and forth a little, and it should feel weird, but it doesn’t. She clutches the back of the couch with one hand and the back of his head with the other and she really might be dying.
When he finally stops, when she finally comes down, her throat aches like she’s been screaming the entire time, but unlike the concerts she loves, she has no idea what she’s been saying. Mike rises slowly, obviously stiff, and wipes wetness from his face with the back of his hand. Wipes her from his face, and Tina grins at him, because she feels so good and she had no idea he had all that in him.
“Come here, you.” She pulls him between her legs. His swim trunks are smooth, but even they’re too rough for her sensitive cunt. He helps her push them down out of the way, and then he’s back, pressing his dick against her. He shudders, and she reaches up to stroke back his hair. “Condoms in my room.”
“Okay.” He manages to grit it out, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t push inside her, either, just rubs along the length of her, and then fists his hand around his dick and jerks once, twice – he starts to back up, but she catches him with her heels and holds him in place – and he comes across her thighs.
“Sorry.” It comes out strangled, and he tries again. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s fine.” She presses her feet against him and holds out her hand; he hesitates a moment more, and then finally takes it, even though that smears come across her palm. His, hers, they’re mixed together and her body feels so good.
Then her back twinges, reminding her she’s really not in the most comfortable position. She straightens up that last bit and kisses him.
She lets Mike shower first. Tina puts together a load of laundry, but rinses his swim trunks and tosses them in the dryer so he’ll have something to wear when he’s clean. Once he’s done in the bathroom, she tells him to order food and takes her time washing and conditioning her hair.
By the time she’s dressed in another black skirt and a thin gray tank top, casual, comfortable clothes because she plans on curling up with Mike and watching movies until she has to take him home, the food’s arrived.
Mike has sodas, paper plates, and big napkins to go with their pizza, but first thing he does is point at her purse.
“Your phone’s been going off every thirty seconds,” he says. She thinks he’s exaggerating, but when she checks it, if he is, it’s not by much. There are missed calls and texts and more missed calls. She starts with the texts, most recent first, threads from Mercedes and Kurt demanding to know where the hell she is and why she’s not answering her phone and she needs to come over right the fuck now and bring ice cream and bacon, they’re having an emergency.
For a second, Tina forgets the secrets she knows, and she’s terrified Quinn is pregnant again.
Then she gets to the text from Lauren, the first in the bunch. The only one from her, and all it says is: i need you.
She’s dialing Lauren’s number even as she hears two loud bangs on the front door. It swings open a second later, and as fast as Tina’s scrambling into the hallway, Lauren’s inside before she gets there and slams the door shut so hard the glass rattles. She’d look like normal to anyone else, but Tina knows her well enough to catch the twitch of her eyelid, the quiver of her jaw.
“I told Quinn,” Lauren says. “She hates me.” The way her voice cracks breaks Tina’s heart. She opens her arms, the I warned you dying on her lips, and Lauren lurches into her.
Tina stays silent, and strokes her hair until she's calm.