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just_1_word | 14.5. Mate
Jan. 29th, 2009 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texas33forever14.5. Mate
[Companion piece to THIS by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
itwontstopme]
Life was usually easy. There wasn’t much more to it than football, beer, and getting laid. Hell, school wasn’t even an issue with rally girls bouncing around more than happy to provide for him in any way he needed… whether it be a blow job or a book report. The times he got himself beaten up weren’t that fun, to be fair, but still, he could just go home to get drunk and it didn’t matter at the end of the day, anyway. But then Coach left and it felt like the world was starting to tip under his feet and throw him off balance.
First is was the hard practices. For some reason, new Coach (and Tim couldn’t even remember his name to this day) decided riding his ass was the best option to get results. Not only did Tim end up hurling his guts up in the bleachers but the following week landed himself in hospital during a practice from dehydration. It could’ve been because he was hungover, but Buddy Garrity insisted it wasn’t. Who was Tim to argue? That didn’t matter, though, just so long as Tim could play football. He never expected to have Six show up on his doorstep handing him his ass about being a lazy asshole on the team and ranting about how he had to pull his finger out and get his act together… or something along those lines. But who was Street to tell him what to do, anyway? He was supposed to be his best friend and yeah, maybe Tim had an issue with him trying coach him. He wasn’t Coach. It didn’t matter if his childhood friend and ex-team mate actually had a point in what he was saying because Buddy said it didn’t matter that Tim was hungover. Meaning, why should he bother to stop drinking? Everything always went to the shit when he tried that.
What he never expected was Six to come back and retaliate Tim’s flippant statement that he sucked as a coach and Tim never expected his friend to really take it to heart. Six seemed resilient to comments like that and it wasn’t like Tim meant it anyway. He certainly never expected Six to start spouting how he was going to Mexico to get his legs back again from some freak surgery. But still – road trip! And Mexico had the best beer around.
Tim was never too experienced with the likes of emotions. Not his own, not his brother’s, not his friends'. But he should’ve known Six was acting weirdly, at the very least. The way Six was putting away the Tequilas to start, followed by the drunk Karaoke singing to a non-English speaking audience about how he was going to walk again. It was amusing to start, but Tim could see then that Six was banking an awful lot on this weird operation to fix his legs that had been tested on rats and had something to do with bits of a shark. Even as drunk as he was, Tim started to feel a strange feeling in his gut that something was wrong. He was desperate and never even considered that calling Lyla would just make things worse. Six could die at the hand of some idiot Mexican doctor. He could die.
He could handle J’s crap. Always had and always would. So when the typical QB anger came through, first at Lyla’s arrival and then on the boat when he realised he had an intervention staged against him, Tim took it like water off a duck’s back. It was just Six’s temper… he would get over it. His bark was always worse than his bite and it wasn’t like they hadn’t fought like cats and dogs over the years. It’s what boys did. Tim would cop anything if it made his friend see sense about this ridiculous operation to fix the unfixable.
But then one minute Six was there, sitting on the boat with the goggles on and looking totally miserable and then next he wasn’t. The empty chair was there, but no quadriplegic ass occupying it. Tim felt sick. Horrified. What the fuck had he done? In the blink of an eye, Six had thrown himself off the back of a boat. If he couldn’t walk, how the fuck could he swim? It was never meant to have happened like that and Tim had taken the wrong turn yet again when all he had wanted was to try and put things right for his best friend.
Tim's Jason in muse land isitwontstopme
Word Count | 756
[Companion piece to THIS by
itwontstopme]Life was usually easy. There wasn’t much more to it than football, beer, and getting laid. Hell, school wasn’t even an issue with rally girls bouncing around more than happy to provide for him in any way he needed… whether it be a blow job or a book report. The times he got himself beaten up weren’t that fun, to be fair, but still, he could just go home to get drunk and it didn’t matter at the end of the day, anyway. But then Coach left and it felt like the world was starting to tip under his feet and throw him off balance.
First is was the hard practices. For some reason, new Coach (and Tim couldn’t even remember his name to this day) decided riding his ass was the best option to get results. Not only did Tim end up hurling his guts up in the bleachers but the following week landed himself in hospital during a practice from dehydration. It could’ve been because he was hungover, but Buddy Garrity insisted it wasn’t. Who was Tim to argue? That didn’t matter, though, just so long as Tim could play football. He never expected to have Six show up on his doorstep handing him his ass about being a lazy asshole on the team and ranting about how he had to pull his finger out and get his act together… or something along those lines. But who was Street to tell him what to do, anyway? He was supposed to be his best friend and yeah, maybe Tim had an issue with him trying coach him. He wasn’t Coach. It didn’t matter if his childhood friend and ex-team mate actually had a point in what he was saying because Buddy said it didn’t matter that Tim was hungover. Meaning, why should he bother to stop drinking? Everything always went to the shit when he tried that.
What he never expected was Six to come back and retaliate Tim’s flippant statement that he sucked as a coach and Tim never expected his friend to really take it to heart. Six seemed resilient to comments like that and it wasn’t like Tim meant it anyway. He certainly never expected Six to start spouting how he was going to Mexico to get his legs back again from some freak surgery. But still – road trip! And Mexico had the best beer around.
Tim was never too experienced with the likes of emotions. Not his own, not his brother’s, not his friends'. But he should’ve known Six was acting weirdly, at the very least. The way Six was putting away the Tequilas to start, followed by the drunk Karaoke singing to a non-English speaking audience about how he was going to walk again. It was amusing to start, but Tim could see then that Six was banking an awful lot on this weird operation to fix his legs that had been tested on rats and had something to do with bits of a shark. Even as drunk as he was, Tim started to feel a strange feeling in his gut that something was wrong. He was desperate and never even considered that calling Lyla would just make things worse. Six could die at the hand of some idiot Mexican doctor. He could die.
He could handle J’s crap. Always had and always would. So when the typical QB anger came through, first at Lyla’s arrival and then on the boat when he realised he had an intervention staged against him, Tim took it like water off a duck’s back. It was just Six’s temper… he would get over it. His bark was always worse than his bite and it wasn’t like they hadn’t fought like cats and dogs over the years. It’s what boys did. Tim would cop anything if it made his friend see sense about this ridiculous operation to fix the unfixable.
But then one minute Six was there, sitting on the boat with the goggles on and looking totally miserable and then next he wasn’t. The empty chair was there, but no quadriplegic ass occupying it. Tim felt sick. Horrified. What the fuck had he done? In the blink of an eye, Six had thrown himself off the back of a boat. If he couldn’t walk, how the fuck could he swim? It was never meant to have happened like that and Tim had taken the wrong turn yet again when all he had wanted was to try and put things right for his best friend.
Tim's Jason in muse land is
itwontstopmeWord Count | 756
