RP with supermarketsam | BEER!

[texas33forever]

Follows THIS and THISTim's intentions had been honourable and to be fair, he did sit on the bed wedged beside Six and Sam for well over an hour but as soon as Six went out for the count, he started to get bored and restless. It started with a foot on the wheelchair, pushing it back and forth to try and entertain himself. Then his eyes tracked about

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[supermarketsam]

Sam's hair was all messed up from trying to sleep in the truck, and then trying to sleep on J's bed, but she was still having no luck actually going out for the count. She was jealous of Jason's dead to the worldness. She gave up trying to smooth her hair and pulled it back into a loose bun before she debated if she should flush or not. Would flushing wake J? Eventually compromised by putting the lid down and hoping that it muffled the flush long enough.

She came out of the bathroom to find J alone, and followed noises of someone rummaging to the kitchen. She just sighed and leaned down to pinch Tim's ass before she slipped her fingers into his back pocket and fished out his car keys. "You're incurable, ya know that?"

[texas33forever]

Tim stood up and looked between her and the truck keys. "Hey, I need them. He really doesn't have any fuckin' beer. This place has zapped the life out of him. No beer," he added for emphasis and picked up an open, half empty bottle of vodka from the kitchen bench. "This is what it has come to. Gotta get the dude some real booze."

[supermarketsam]

"No way, tough guy. You ain't drivin' anywhere. Your tight ass stays right here," Sam told him as she kept a tight hold on his keys. "If anythin' happens to J, you're the only one strong enough to lift him." Her nose crinkled at the sight of the vodka, and she had to at least concede beer was better than that stuff. "He's gonna come home with us, I can feel it."

[texas33forever]

"Dude, you gave him a bucket. What more does he need?" Tim protested and went back to the fridge. Maybe there was an extra door at the back behind the... whatever the hell that green mouldy thing was. "I dunno, S. Seems hooked on the chick, you know? The Purple Panty Eater."

[supermarketsam]

"I think J's the ass ink type. Ain't like he's gonna feel it, plus maybe he wants somethin' to look at in case he gets the urge to ever check out his own ass." Sam shrugged, still laughing softly. "If he wanted to fuck with ya, he woulda said somethin' way more extreme. Or talked about a Prince Alfred."

Sam's face turned serious as she tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears. "He's still J, T. He's just lost inside himself because he's alone here."

[texas33forever]

"That's exactly what he did say. First he asked me how I didn't know he didn't have his dick pierced. Dude nearly gave me a heart attack, but then he pointed out that he wouldn't feel it. Which is, well, point. Then he told me about the ink but I couldn't tell if he was jokin'." Tim raised an eyebrow. "Can he even manage to check his own ass out?"

He looked down at the strange patterns on the kitchen lino. "J's been lost since the accident. He hasn't settled since it. The thing with the kid was the first time I thought that maybe he would stop for once, but now this. Shit's all hit the proverbial again and I dunno how else to help him, just like back then after the accident I didn't. So I avoided him and look what happened. I fucked him over."

[supermarketsam]

Sam winced in sympathy at the idea of anyone having their dick pierced. She couldn't see the sexy side in at all. "I don't know, but I'm sure if he really wanted to he'd find a way. He'd probably need a lot of mirrors. There's really only one way to be sure about the tattoo..."

Sam stepped up to Tim and slipped her arms around him in a hug. "I don't know what to do either, but we're here and we ain't avoidin' him. We're just gonna have to take it one fumbled step at a time and hope that at least takin' home to Dillon is gonna help."

[texas33forever]

Tim looked up at her and smiked. "What are you plannin'?"

"I still say we needa get him beer and get him drunk. He looks like he needs to get drunk on somethin' that isn't cheap fuckin' vodka," he insisted. He held his hand out. "Give me my keys. There must be stores close by. He won't even realise I've bailed on him."