
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/51288.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Friday_Night_Lights
  Relationship:
      Tim/JD
  Character:
      Tim_Riggins, JD_McCoy, Jason_Street, Herc
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-15 Words: 5305
****** A Done Deed ******
by Devilc
Summary
     JD sets goals and achieves them, and one of his goals is Tim Riggins.
Notes
     Assumes you've seen through 3x09, but is set somewhere between 3x09
     and 3x08.
     A sort of companion piece to Educating_JD, in the sense that both
     contain a hat-tip to Supernatural, and that I explore JD's glow in
     the dark mancrush on Tim. Except that in this one I go to the porny
     place.
     Thank you to Turnonmyheels for the beta.
JD McCoy wasn't lying when he said that he set goals and achieved them.
For example, he had it on good authority that by the age of 15, Tim Riggins had
slept with a long string of Rally Girls, plus had gone steady with Tyra Colette
for several months, so JD figured that losing his virginity before the end of
his freshman year football season was a perfectly reasonable and achievable
goal.
Except for the fact that he wanted to lose his virginity to Tim Riggins.
And, given the fact that Tim had allegedly slept with most of the Rally Girls
and half their mothers, JD figured he stood a better chance of having Julie
Taylor climb naked through his bedroom window.
Still, sometimes Tim said things, did things that made JD wonder. Nothing
ventured, nothing gained, right?
~oo(0)oo~
Okay, as much as he wanted to, JD knew that he couldn't just tag around after
Tim like a stray puppy. That was just uncool.
And what's more, he'd be so uncool that Tim would never stop seeing him as a
little kid.
So, JD did something he rarely did. He prayed because he really meant it.
~oo(0)oo~
God answered.
He managed not to bounce with glee that afternoon when he overheard Tim ask
Coach about getting some time in the film room or getting his hands on some old
game tapes so he could have some more material for a highlight reel.
(Tim also stuttered and blushed and thanked Coach for something Coach had said
about him. And it was so cool that Tim was humble about his awesomeness. JD had
to agree that his parents were right that nobody liked a braggart or a show-off
and to find that even Tim didn't take Coach's word for granted was just another
one of the ways in which Tim was the best guy on the team.)
Tim dragged a hand through his hair and said, "It's just that I've got about 3
years of footage to go through, and even with Billy and Jason helping -- "
"I can help," JD interjected from his place in the doorway. Both Coach and Tim
turned slightly shocked stares at him, clearly they hadn't realized he was
there. "I didn't mean to interrupt," JD apologized, "but I can watch some of
those older tapes, too ... if you want ... " his voice trailed off and then
inspiration struck: "It will also help make me familiar with the defenses the
other teams run."
Coach shrugged. "Tim?"
Tim looked at JD for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making JD's stomach
flutter, and said, "I'm not going to say no, One-Two."
"So long as it doesn't cut into your school work, or the film I give you to
watch? Fine."
JD laughed. "I'll just play a little less Madden on the X-Box." He swallowed.
"So, where do I start?"
~oo(0)oo~
JD figured that it was no coincidence that Coach gave him the film for Tim's
freshman year, which also happened to be Jason Street's junior year.
Tim had had an okay freshman year -- he had made varsity for a reason -- but
yeah, Jason Street.
Because, man ....
JD's dad even joined him for some of the viewing of that film and, thank you,
God, managed to not note that the times that JD scribbled something on his
clipboard it usually didn't have much to do with something that Jason had just
done.
JD had even seen a few of Jason's games, or had seen highlight reels, but to
watch every single moment of Jason's junior year -- the year that had made him
the leading high school quarterback in the US, the year that had seen him get
recruited by everybody who was anybody?
Yeah.
JD wanted a year like that. Wanted it so bad he could taste it.
~oo(0)oo~
He felt nervous as hell and also like a stupid horny idiot when he knocked on
the front door of what he prayed was the right house -- Tim had really hard to
read handwriting. His knees buckled when the door opened, the tape of clips he
had so painstakingly compiled dropped from his nerveless hand as he squeaked,
"Ohmygod, Jason Street!"
It became the joke of the afternoon. Any time Jason re-entered the living room,
his roommate, Herc, did an embarrassingly dead on imitation of JD. To the point
that JD could tell that both Jason and Tim wanted to whomp him one.
Jason, other than his initial laughter, let it rest after that, was completely
cool to JD, and even had a few pointers and good things to say to JD about his
games. It sucked to discover that Jason was moving to New York in less than two
weeks.
Herc ... actually turned out to be okay in the end. He had the foulest mouth JD
had ever heard and he and Jason teased each other endlessly ... in a really gay
way.
Like, so much so that when Jason wheeled down the hall to take a phone call and
Herc rolled into the kitchen to grab another beer, JD whispered to Tim, asking
him if Herc was gay, which made Tim choke so hard on his beer it came out his
nose.
JD wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.
When Tim had finished both choking and laughing, he wiped his face clean with
the paper towel JD handed him and managed to croak, "No, he's not. He's really
really not."
And he let it rest.
(Thank god.)
When it got to be about 4 and they still had a fair amount of footage to look
at and argue over -- JD kept mostly quiet and watched as Jason and Tim talked,
and Herc, as far as JD could tell just liked to watch people get bowled over.
He excused himself and walked down to the bathroom to make a phone call.
All his dad needed to hear was that he was over at Jason Street's house and it
was all good.
Of course, his folks would've shit twice and died if they knew that the
bathroom at Jason Street's house had Busty Asian Beauties behind the current
Sports Illustrated issue in the magazine rack.
JD had almost bitten his tongue in shock when he realized that wasn't a
previous issue of Sports Illustrated in his hand and immediately shoved it back
down, because as much as he wanted to look at every glorious page, the choice
was to beat off -- and, they all would've known what he'd been up to, and JD
didn't want to give Herc any more material to work with -- or walk out there
looking like he was smuggling a banana in his pants. Thank god that the only
non-alcoholic drink in the fridge besides milk had happened to be diet Mountain
Dew, because all that caffeine meant that JD needed to piss like a racehorse
and that helped immensely when it came to willing away his hard on.
"Thought you might have fallen in, little One-Two," Tim said when he got back
to the couch.
"I'm taller than you, y'know," JD replied quietly.
"Bullshit."
"Serious as cancer."
"You all got a measuring tape and a pencil around here?" Tim said, standing up,
pausing the tape. "Let's get this settled."
~oo(0)oo~
"And the verdict is?" Herc asked, a shark like gleam in his eye.
"Six two," Tim mumbled.
Herc shifted forward and cupped a hand to his ear. "What? What was that?"
"He's. Six. Two." Tim bit the words out.
JD grinned from ear to ear. "Don't feel so bad little Six One," he said to Tim.
"Little?! I'll show you little!" Tim whooped as he lunged at JD and tackled him
to the floor and tickled him.
"Hey, man! Cut it out!" JD gasped as he rolled this way and that, trying to
escape Tim who suddenly seemed to have 8 arms, and JD's body felt like it was
made of silly putty in comparison because Tim was a hell of a lot stronger and
it was hard to do anything when you're both laughing so hard you can't breathe
and about to die of embarrassment because all the other blood you've got left
has gone to the south pole.
Well, maybe not all the blood he had left, because over his own shrieks JD
could hear Jason and Herc gasping and howling with laughter about how red his
face was and Tim snickered about that too.
JD wondered if Tim was going to ease off a hair and let him get his breath,
when Tim got a direct strike on his armpit and JD's body seemed to twist and
arc of its own accord and he rolled, slamming Tim really hard into the
entertainment center and ....
It all seemed to happen in slow motion:
The sound of something really heavy rocking and wobbling and JD thought of that
line from the Matrix about "the sound of inevitability."
Jason shouted, "Guys, look out!"
While Herc gasped, "Oh, shit!"
Out of the corner of his eye, JD saw a large trophy come somersaulting off the
top of the entertainment center.
He twisted and tried to put his arm up to block it.
Tim had the same idea.
Except Tim managed to get his hand caught in JD's shirtsleeve, which meant that
that their arms tangled and their fingers bent at crazy angles instead of doing
something useful.
JD closed his eyes just as his entire field of vision filled with bumpy gold
colored plastic.
~oo(0)oo~
"Well, you know what they say," Herc said, handing him a dishrag with some
crushed ice in it. "It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye."
JD pressed it to the combination scrape and almond sized knot above his right
eyebrow.
"No thanks to your motherfucking murderball trophy," Tim grumbled as he pressed
a bag of frozen corn to what promised to be a truly magnificent shiner.
"Because I just can't wait for Coach to see this come Monday."
JD's stomach lurched. "You -you're not going to get in trouble, are you?
Because -- "
Tim waived him off. "Naw. It's just that this is so completely different from
how I got the last three, that he's going to think the worst at first." Pause.
"Thank god you've got a knot of your own to back me up with." Then, "No, wait.
With my luck, he'll think I've taken you to your first bar brawl, and that this
is just some story we came up with."
"Because you really had him down at Smittys, hustling a little pool," Jason
added, sniggering.
"You play pool?" JD asked.
"Yes," Tim replied wearily.
"Are you any good?"
Tim looked at him crazy for a moment then smiled evilly and said, "How much
money's in your piggy bank One-Two?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." JD snarked back.
Tim laughed.
A hurricane of butterflies flapped through his stomach as JD continued
smoothly, "Why don't you come over to my house tomorrow afternoon, and we'll
shoot some pool and maybe, if you're lucky, you'll find out."
(Oh please, oh please, oh please.)
Silence fell and JD worried that he'd been a little too obvious with his come
on, laid it on too thick, but Tim chuffed and smiled. "Okay."
"Timmy's got a play date," Herc sing-songed and Jason cuffed him on the back of
the head.
~oo(0)oo~
Dad and Mom were all frowns when he got home and totally ready to blame Tim for
getting him into some sort of trouble again, until JD said that they were
horsing around and one of Jason's trophies did it -- because there was no way
he could explain Herc and murderball, and Jason played murderball and had the
same trophy in his room, so it could have been Jason's trophy.
"It was kind of like instant Karma," he quipped making his Dad laugh.
~oo(0)oo~
His Dad couldn't entirely restrain an amused smirk when Tim showed up the next
afternoon a little after two. And even JD laughed a little at the huge, purple-
blue bruise across Tim's eye and cheek.
Tim gave a lopsided smile and said, "Coach said I never do anything half-a -
- by half measures."
JD's parents weren't really happy to leave him alone with Tim, but an important
dinner was an important dinner and, yes, he and Tim weren't going to leave the
house, and the housekeeper was here, right? So really, what kind of trouble
could they get into?
Right.
Their smiles might have been a little thin, but they finally got in the Range
Rover and left.
As soon as his parents were gone, Tim said, "So, pool table?"
~oo(0)oo~
Tim was all business at the pool table. JD tried to think of funny and clever
things to say, but mostly got one word answers.
He wished there were a guy equivalent of wearing a tight, low-cut shirt, like
girls did to showcase their boobs. He couldn't be too obvious about sticking
his ass in Tim's face every chance he got, because, first off, that was just
tacky, and also, he hadn't worn a pair of tight jeans.
And thank god he didn't wear his tight jeans, because watching Tim's hands and
his arms -- ohgod, his forearms -- twist and flex and ... JD felt his eyes
glaze and the heat flood down there. Tight jeans would've made things downright
painful.
Besides, Tim's jeans were snug and well worn, and yes, JD looked every chance
he thought he could get away with it.
But, despite all that, JD managed to play pretty well. Tim only sunk the 8 ball
because JD scratched.
Granted, Tim had distracted him as he lined up the shot by choosing that moment
to do a huge, spine cracking, reach-for-the-sky stretch, and JD couldn't help
but take his eyes off the ball when he saw the tips of Tim's "davids" peeking
out of his jeans, as well as that glorious trail of hair heading down.
Tim cackled with glee and moved in for the kill.
As JD picked up the frame to rack the balls for the next game Tim said, "JD,
can I ask you something?"
"Sure," JD replied, picking up the 3 ball.
"You this flirty with all the guys?"
The ball fell from JD's hand, thwacking the table hard. Probably left a dent.
Fuck. And JD tried to say something, but the words got all tangled up, and he
couldn't even make his head shake.
Tim stepped closer, the gleam in his eyes downright predatory.
"I-I just ..." JD, tried to step back, tried to move, tried to speak. His
stomach did cartwheels, somersaults, and back handsprings that would have made
a cheerleader proud.
Tim's hands shot out, grabbed his belt loops, pulled him in. "Because if you
are," they were face to face, eye to eye,"it's cool."
"I, uh, just ..." JD whispered, because Tim was hard and he was hard and there
was no way Tim couldn't feel JD, not with them standing dick to dick like this.
"Because you're not the first QB 1 to want in my britches." Tim whispered, low
and throaty, against JD's lips.
"Yes," JD squeaked. "Please."
Tim's lips were slightly dry and chapped against his, but the kiss was
everything JD had ever hoped for.
He felt lightheaded, almost dizzy, when Tim broke off. "We good?" Tim asked.
"Uh-huh." JD nodded.
Tim's eyes locked with his. "How far do you want to take this?"
And as he tried to find the words, JD was stuck by the color of Tim's eyes.
They seemed suddenly very amber, not their usual hazel-green, and something in
them smoldered. "I ..." he finally started, but his voice trailed off because
he didn't know what to ask for, felt afraid he might ask for too much, might
ask for the wrong thing, and as the moments ticked past silently, but for the
sound of Tim's breathing, JD saw Tim's brow wrinkle in thought and the
expression in his eyes started to cloud over, grow dim.
In desperation, JD surged forward, kissing Tim, banging teeth against lips, but
Tim didn't seem to mind, because he deepened the kiss, bringing his hands
around from JD's belt loops to cup his ass, pull them closer, sending a
resulting extra jolt of friction through JD, who whimpered involuntarily and
slid his own hands over and around to return the favor, cupping Tim's ass,
making him twitch and gasp and inwardly JD thrilled with triumph.
Tim's hand snaked up, ghosting along the back of JD's neck, then Tim's fingers
fisted into JD's hair -- almost a little too tight, but just enough to make it
the perfect shivery good -- and the kissing turned devouring, demanding. JD
felt the edge of the pool table against his ass, shifted back more, half sat on
it, spreading his legs, and started to bring his left one up to wrap around as
Tim pressed in, slowly inching him down and back.
With a ragged groan, Tim wrenched away, flushed and panting heavily. "We need
to take this someplace else."
Blinking, trying to find his center, JD heaved air into his own lungs, because,
yeah, he would have let Tim push him back on the pool table. Would have let him
go for it right there, and no doubt that would have left some kind of mark on
the table, or, even worse, what if somebody walked in on them?
Tim stepped back. "Bedroom. Now."
JD's legs felt like noodles all the way up the stairs and down the hall to his
room.
Tim pounced on him, kissing, hot and quick, as soon as they got the door
closed, pressing him up against it. "What do you like?"
"I like ev-everything," JD gasped, not knowing and not caring, just wanting it,
feeling incredibly relieved that things were going better than planned. A tiny
part of him thrilled in secret pride that Tim seemed to think that he had some
sort of prior experience.
"Everything?" Tim laughed low in his throat. "Really?"
He said the last word in such a loaded, arch manner that JD cringed inside
because ... he knew he wanted everything, but he didn't know how to do it, or
even what "everything" was.
Tim made another throaty noise, half growl, half chortle, and pressed back into
him, grinding and clenching and JD couldn't stop it, just started climbing Tim
like a tree, managed to get one of his legs up and around Tim's hips, his dick
spurting a fresh burst of wetness in his jockeys as it chafed against the hard
bulge in Tim's jeans.
With a growl, Tim reached down and wrenched JD's other leg up to wrap around
his hips, and JD couldn't contain the bolt that lanced through his body at the
ease with which Tim just did that to him. He cried out and put his arms around
Tim and arched back, bracing off the wall, as Tim brought his strength to bear.
Tim smiled back at him, eyes alight, cheeks dimpled. "Youlike that, little One-
Two? You like getting manhandled?"
"Yeah!" JD gasped. Because thirty minutes ago, he had had no idea, but now that
he did, he was desperate for more.
It felt as if the top of his head would lift off when Tim started backing away
from the wall, toward the bed, JD still wrapped around him like kudzu, Tim's
hands still clenching his ass, his kisses still demanding, because ... goddamn,
Tim was strong to carry him like that.
"Off," Tim said as the backs of his knees hit the bed and he started to sit
down.
"Oh," JD breathed, disappointed at the loss of contact as he disentangled
himself from Tim and stood, trembling from both need and nerves, drinking in
Tim's eyes -- pupils blown -- and the swollen redness of his lips.
Then those eyes narrowed, took on an almost panther-like gleam. "Strip," Tim
ordered, voice low, almost a growl. "I want to see what I'm getting."
The tone of his words wracked JD with a full body shudder and he couldn't
restrain the moan that burst from his lips.
Tim lifted an eyebrow. "You like that, too -- being told what to do?"
Face flaming, JD nodded like a bobble headed doll. "I ... I ... it's hot," he
whispered.
With trembling fingers, JD pulled his T-shirt off. He knew he was in good
shape, but he didn't have half the body that Tim had, but from the way that
Tim's eyes roved up and down his chest, Tim seemed to like what he saw.
JD toed off his shoes and footsied off his socks before starting on his fly,
his cock grateful to finally have some freedom, but he nearly fell over,
flailing, in his eagerness to pull his jeans off. He felt like a massive dork.
Tim laughed, not unkindly, but his eyes narrowed and he licked his lips when he
saw the wetness soaking the front of JD's jockeys. He reached out, ghosting a
hand over JD's cock, and the resulting surge caused JD to squeal "Don't!" as he
pushed Tim's hand away.
As he made a show of sniffing his fingers, Tim muttered something about "wetter
than most girls".
JD froze as when his fingers reached the elastic of his underpants. Because
....
Tim had already seen him naked before -- the night of the naked mile -- but not
like this.
What if he didn't ....
(What if he was too small? Because, lately, it seemed like everything else had
put on several inches, but what if his dick hadn't quite caught up?)
The look in Tim's eyes grew stormy. "The shorts, One-Two. Lose the shorts."
JD blew out a deep breath, closed his eyes, pushed down and stepped out.
A slightly strangled noise from Tim made JD open his eyes.
"So, I'm okay?" he asked.
"You're good, One-Two, plenty good" Tim rasped, reaching for him, and stroking
his thumbs down the blades of JD's hipbones, making JD's stomach muscles
flutter and jump. But something made the look in Tim's eyes grow distant,
dreamy.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, barely daring breathe.
Tim shook himself. "Yeah. It's ... it's been awhile." Without warning he closed
his hand over JD's cock and gave it a long, slow stroke.
Static exploded up JD's spine and he shuddered all the way down to his toes.
Once again his hand snapped down and grabbed Tim's. In a shaking voice he said,
"If y-you keep that-that up, this is going to be over --" he sucked in a deep
breath and blew it out his nose, "really quick."
Tim chortled low and deep. "I turn you on that much, then?
JD nodded. Because, god, if he only knew.
The heat returned to Tim's eyes. "Right. Lay on the bed." Tim stood up and with
swift, practiced moves, stripped off his shirt, making JD gasp. He had seen Tim
before, but this was different because he had never looked at Tim before. Damn,
Tim was ripped and as much as his body made JD's mouth go dry from desire, it
also made him feel like a scrawny little nothing.
Tim seemed to understand what he was thinking. He glanced down at his body,
then back up, meeting JD's eyes again. "Don't worry, One-Two. Give yourself
some time. You're in your first real growth spurt. Find a buddy and do some
lifting in the off season and you'll see. You'll see." He bent and pulled off
his boots.
JD swallowed hard as Tim's hands unbuttoned and unzipped and he pushed down
both jeans and boxers in one go.
His cock was about the size of JD's, but thicker, fuller, manlier somehow.
Maybe it was the unruly thatch of darker hair and the treasure trail leading up
to his bellybutton, but just the sight of it, hard and flushed, seeping at the
tip, caused JD's dick to spasm in response and he hissed low in his throat.
Tim had to get over here right fucking now or he was going to go fucking nuts.
"Hurry," JD begged, voice breaking.
Tim arched an eyebrow and crawled way too damn slowly across the bed to JD's
jittering body. Holding himself up on all fours, he kissed JD slow and wet and
JD put his arms around Tim, tried to pull him down because he needed, and when
Tim finally broke the kiss, JD pleaded with him to just get started.
Languidly, Tim lowered his body and the sheer heat and the weight of it, plus
the slip-slide of skin on skin as it nestled into place finished it for JD. He
arched up so hard it felt as if his body formed an upside down U and he shouted
Tim's name as he came.
He wanted to die.
God.
They didn't even --
Tim just had to --
And his stupid dick just --
He burned with shame even as his body trembled from the aftershocks. "I'm
sorry," he whispered, turning his face away.
Tim gently cupped his cheek and turned it back. "I'm kind of flattered,
actually," he said in a voice as soft and warm as the expression in his eyes.
He pecked JD on the lips. "You've wanted this a lot, haven't you?"
JD let out a pent up breath. "Yeah."
"Don't worry, round two will be better," Tim said and then he began slowly
thrusting against JD, sliding through the warm wet between them, his cock,
thick and hard and hot, brushing up against JD's orgasm sensitive one, making
it twinge a little, but in a good way.
It wasn't long before JD started to feel the heat starting to pool between his
hips again, but it was more than the friction against his dick. It was the feel
of Tim's body rocking against the length of his, combined with his hands
gripping JD's ass, pulling him closer, and also the breathy noises that that
spilled from his throat, plus the way he arched and hissed like a cat when JD
dragged his hands down back, and then the way those noises turned to growls
when JD started necking him.
No, it didn't take long at all for JD to reload given stimulation like that.
"Told you so," Tim chortled when JD's cock made that last surge back to full
hardness.
JD said nothing, because by that point, the words other than "ohgod!" and
"Tim!" and "ohplease" had fled. He just humped back with his hips, biting his
lip to keep from shouting the house down as Tim really got going, because this
was so much different and better than anything he had ever imagined, so much
more intense than just a hand, and it felt so right and natural to just wrap
his legs around Tim and hang on and get nailed to the mattress.
(So so sweet to not be in charge. To not be expected to be in charge. To go
along for the ride. To just take it and take it and take it.)
JD sucked hard at Tim's neck, putting some teeth in it, and with a final choked
off cry, Tim stiffened and came in hot spurts across JD's torso, then
collapsed, twitching, on top of him, and those last little tremors of Tim's
orgasm provided the final spark JD needed to shoot twice.
He wanted to stay like this forever: Tim's breath in his ear; the feeling of
that powerful body, slack now, spent, draped over him; the both of them sweat
damp; drifting in this incredible feeling of relaxation. He closed his eyes.
JD groaned softly when, with a sigh, Tim pulled off him and rolled over. Tim
had a goofy grin plastered across his face, a big one, with dimples and JD felt
pretty sure that the smile on his face looked just as slap happy and he closed
his eyes again and let out a bone deep sigh of contentment.
"Do not fall asleep on me, One-Two." Tim's voice pulled him back to reality.
"Unless you want your parents to come home to find you covered in spunk."
Groaning, JD sat up. Parents. The magic word. "God, sometimes I wish I didn't
have parents, like you. We could do this every day and nobody'd be there to
bitch at us."
Tim frowned and covered his face with his hands. "You don't know what you're
saying, JD," he finally said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. Then,
louder, "Where's the bathroom? We've got to get cleaned up, and get some air
freshener in here, because it probably stinks like a herd of goats." He ran his
hands through his too-long hair and stood up.
~oo(0)oo~
"Lyla can't know. You understand that, right?" Tim said, tugging his jeans back
on.
JD nodded solemnly. "You're lucky I didn't give you a hickey, then. She might
think you had another girlfriend when it's just the one." He'd figured as much
going into this, but it didn't ease the hollow feeing inside much.
Tim's mouth crooked in an almost smile. "Yeah." He slid his shirt over his
head. "Just the one girlfriend." He cleared his throat. "Can I ask you
something?"
"Shoot."
"Just guys, or girls too?"
"Girls too."
Tim sucked his lower lip in thought. "So why me?"
JD snorted, because how could Tim ask that, seriously? How did he not get it,
get that he was Tim Riggins? "Because ... I know how to talk to you. Girls
...?" He shrugged to emphasise his point.
"Yeah, I get that. I still have no idea half the time with them. Well, more
like most the time."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure thing."
"Why me? I mean ... Lyla and all."
Tim's face twisted, crumpled for a split second and then it was gone, replaced
by a smooth mask "That's ... complicated," Tim finally said. "I love her -
- God, I love her -- but ... I used to be the other guy," his voice shifted,
growing strained. "And ... I needed -- I missed it. Missed how it is with a
guy."
"Does she know?" JD asked, voice thick with shock.
Tim smiled wistfully. "Yeah. We didn't rub her face in it, and nobody else
knows -- I think -- but she figured it out, and there's nothing she won't do
for Ja-" He caught himself. "It's over now. Things change. We've changed."
JD sat down before his knees gave out. Jason Street ... did guys, too. "And I'm
not ...."
"Look, JD, end of the year, I'm gone. I might be going to college, I might not.
But I know one thing -- I need to get out of Dillon. Even if I just end up
pumping gas in ... Amarillo, it will be better for me.
"So, long as Lyla doesn't find out, yeah, I can help you figure out what you
like. But it's just friends scratching itches, that's all. Okay?
He reached out and ruffled JD's hair. "Now, how about you tell me what girls
you got your eyes on, and I'll see if I can give you a few pointers there too."
JD pasted on his most innocent looking face. "Well, besides Lyla, there's -- "
he ducked Tim's mock swing. "Hey, can't blame me for noticing that you've got
the hottest girl in town."
Tim laughed. "You got a set of brass ones, One-Two. Brass ones."
"You like that I'm a freshman and yet I clank when I walk."
Tim ruffled his hair again. "You always this flirty after you just got laid?"
Yeah, I guess so, JD thought. He just looked at Tim and gave a mischievous
smile because he'd just set a new goal: fuck itch scratching, he was going to
be the other guy.
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