FIC: Riggins & Winchester, Snapshot #9: Dean meets Herc
Title: Riggins & Winchester, Snapshot #9: Dean Meets Herc
Authors: brynwulf and thisisbone
Characters & Pairing: Tim Riggins/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, various Dillon folks.
Rating: Adult overall
Notes: So brynwulf and I got to talking in IM. A dangerous thing, as it turns out...
Legalese: FNL and SPN are copyright their respective owners. This is a labor of love, not lucre.
Word count: 1,950
Summary: Follows immediately after Snapshot #8
Riggins & Winchester, Snapshot #9: Dean meets Herc
There was an almost audible groan when Herc rolled into the circle of firelight. Jason winced. He hated the new tension in the air, but Herc had become one of his closest friends in the past few months and Jason was nothing if not loyal.
"What's up, kids?" Herc cockily popped a wheelie before squeezing into the space between Lyla and Jason.
Lyla scooted her chair farther from Herc's and said, "Dandy till you rolled into town."
Herc just shrugged and threw his head back, laughing. "Just doin' a bit of slummin'. Wanted to see what my boy Jason's up to."
Herc's gloved hand on Jason's arm caused Lyla to glance away quickly, and Tyra just twisted her mouth into a parody of keeping quiet. Jason caught Sam's look of confusion and latched onto it as an excuse to divert the discussion.
"Herc, here, he sort of got me through PT after the accident. Then got me into the tryouts for the National Rugby Team."
When Sam looked even more confused, Herc jumped in. "Quad rugby, dude. Not for the faint of heart, but Jason blows 'em away."
Jason felt himself blushing, but didn't really want to talk about his failure to make the team, either. He was about to ask Sam if he'd played any sports in school when he heard the growl of American muscle drift through the trees, across the pasture.
"And who might you be?" Herc asked, holding his hand out to Sam.
"Herc, this is Sam," Jason said. "Sam, Herc."
Sam reached over him and shook Herc's hand.
"You new in town, Sam?" Herc asked. "I know how the girls love fresh meat."
Sam's mouth tightened, but he said, politely enough, "I'm on a road trip with my brother. Just passing through."
"Beer's here," Tyra announced and walked over to the cooler to dump out the melted ice.
A couple minutes later, two shadows outside the circle of light took the form of Tim and his new friend Dean. Jason had wanted to ask Tim how he'd come to know the guy and his brother, but they'd taken off shortly after Tim introduced them.
"Where've you been?" Tyra called out. "I thought we'd have to send out a search party. Y'all buy beer in Galveston?"
Jason busied himself reaching into the cooler to hand out the last of the remaining beers and make room for the new, then, while leaning over Herc's chair to hand Lyla a can, Jason noticed Herc's expression and followed it back to where Sam and Tyra were greeting the boys.
Swiveling his head back to Herc, he asked, "What? What is it?"
Herc made no effort to keep his voice down. "Looks like your best friend's been havin' some fun."
A sudden silence filled the night. Jason kept looking back and forth between Herc and Tim, still not sure exactly what Herc was busting Tim's chops for this time. He knew there was no love lost between them, but so far Jason had managed to remain friends with both men without having to step in more than a couple of times.
Finally, Tim turned toward the two men in wheelchairs and narrowed his eyes at Herc. Jason could see the danger reflected by the firelight, but he also noticed something else. Tim's face was flushed and his hair was pushed back in damp ropes. His mouth looked bruised. Dean stood back in the shadows, just out of reach of the light, but Jason finally caught on to what Herc had been implying.
Alarm danced along nerves he wasn't sure he could even feel anymore. No. No way. Tim had done some stupid things in his time, but this? Whole new levels of dumb, even for Tim. They didn't know anything about this guy Dean, or his brother, except that they'd blown in from out of town and were pretty darn cagey about what they did for a living. Tim tended to make most of his decisions with his crotch, and this time, it might come back to bite him in the ass. Jason groaned and wished that particular image hadn't come to mind.
Herc grinned in triumph when Lyla, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents, threw him a beer. As he wrapped his hand around the can, he said "I guess you guys bought the beer first huh? This shit's warmer than piss."
Tim leaned back against the side of Tyra's truck and crossed his legs at the ankles. "You got something to say?"
Jason could tell from the look on Herc's face that this was going nowhere good.
Herc made a show of looking Tim slowly up and down, and said "You take the long way, son?"
Tim tilted his head. "I ain't your son," he said mildly, but something in his tone made Jason sit up straighter. Ooooh, shit. Dean stepped forward, into the light, and from beside Herc, Jason heard Lyla gasp.
Dean's mouth looked swollen, too, his color high, even in firelight. Unless they'd picked up then ditched a couple of girls in the past hour, Jason couldn't come up with any other explanation for why they looked like they did. Fuck. Herc wasn't the most diplomatic guy in the world, but he also wasn't wrong very often.
Herc looked deliberately from Tim to Dean, and said, "Oh, come on, all you boys have daddy issues."
Like a bitter and unexpected breeze, the mood changed. Tim powered forward like he was on the field: agile, mobile and hostile. But before he could reach Herc -- and Jason didn't really want to know what would happen then; Herc might win a war of words, but Tim could kick Herc's ever-lovin' ass in about ten seconds, and God alone knew what Dean was capable of -- Sam came out of his chair like a shot, startling a curse from Tyra. Dean moved, too, grabbing both of Tim's arms from behind, stopping him short in mid-lunge. Damn, Dean had to be some kind of strong to do that. Jason had seen Tim drag linebackers for yards, but when Dean clamped down on Tim's arms, that was it; Tim wasn't going anywhere. To Jason's surprise, Sam didn't step between Tim and Herc, but went straight to Dean. He put his hand on Dean's chest and pressed, hard. Despite Dean's hold, Tim still loomed over Herc, breathing hard, his face set in lines Jason remembered from being down ten points with two minutes to go.
Sam looked at Dean. Something passed between them, some fast and silent communication, and Dean nodded once. Sam stepped away from him and turned to face Herc.
"You might want to back off a little," Sam said evenly to Herc. He towered over Herc. His stance wasn't as threatening as Tim's, but Jason still didn't like the odds. "Looks like you hit a sore spot."
"That's Herc's specialty," Jason said, rolling over and setting himself smack dab in the middle, between Dean and Sam, Tim and Herc. "Get 'em where it hurts, cuz chicks dig scars, right, Herc?"
Herc loved nothing more than stirring up shit, and Jason had had about enough of it. It was one thing to listen to Herc's particularly pungent blend of tough love and crap day in day out, but this wasn't that. This was Herc chapping Tim's hide just because he could, plain and simple. And that wasn't cool. "You're just messing with them, right?"
Herc curled up his lip and didn't say anything.
"Right?" Jason said, a little louder, and shoved against Herc's chair with his own.
Herc finally looked at him. Jason lifted his hands, like, 'what the fuck, man?'
"He does whatever he wants, and you let him," Herc bit out.
"He's my friend," Jason said. Herc narrowed his eyes. "And so are you," Jason continued. "So cut that shit out. It's a party, remember?"
"A party you weren't exactly invited to," Tyra tossed in from the side.
Herc made a show of cracking his neck, then said to Tim, "Just messin' with you, like QB said." He didn't mean a word of it, that was plain as the nose on his face, but Jason slapped him on the back and said, "There you go," like everything was okay, like they could go back to drinking and shooting the shit. Like Jason didn't have to live with wondering just how long and hard you'd have to kiss somebody to make them look like that.
Dean let go of Tim's arms, and Tim stood there for a minute, glaring at Herc. Dean stayed behind him, steady as a rock, probably the only person still left at the party who could take Tim down if it got that far. Tim took a breath and lifted his hands. Only then could Jason see that Dean still had his hand on Tim, low on his back, just above his jeans. That wasn't a friendly touch, or a fight-stopping touch. That was, well, that was an intimate touch, and that, more than Tim's hair or Dean's mouth, told Jason that Herc had nailed it. Tim and Dean had…were…had just been…God.
Tyra tossed Tim one of the last cold beers from the old cooler. "Chill," she said, her eyes flickering from Tim to Dean and back. Tim hunched his shoulders and stepped forward, moving to the opposite side of the circle and dropping into a chair. He tucked his chin to his chest, body language Jason had seen hundreds of times.
Dean, who'd only met Tim when, yesterday? Who didn't know him like Jason did, who hadn't been there when Tim had his first growth spurt and his toes pushed holes in his sneakers because Billy didn't have enough money to buy new ones every couple months, who'd never seen Tim play, hellbent for leather. Dean, who couldn't possibly know or care about him the way Jason did, looked at Tim sitting in his lawn chair, and walked over to Herc.
Herc looked up, and for the first time, seemed uncertain. Jason had always known he was smart. Herc opened his mouth, but Dean cut him off.
"You think you can say whatever you want, because you're in that chair?" Dean said, looking down at Herc.
Smart as he was, Herc still wasn't smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he pulled on some bravado from somewhere and said, "Pretty much."
Dean leaned over, put his hand on the back of Herc's chair and spoke in his ear. "Think again."
Jason felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, felt his scar pulse, and a hush fell across their little circle again. Jason looked over at Sam, the closest thing he had to a barometer on Dean, but Sam didn't seem concerned. He had his eye on Dean, but he was relaxed, sipping his beer.
Herc swallowed hard. "Yes, sir"," he said, sketching a salute, but the sass rang hollow.
Dean turned his back on Herc and went over to his brother, taking the beer Sam held out. Jason looked at Herc -- beads of sweat stood out on Herc's forehead, despite the chill, and Jason stifled a grin.
Herc might have finally met his match.
***
For all previous parts, click here.
Authors: brynwulf and thisisbone
Characters & Pairing: Tim Riggins/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, various Dillon folks.
Rating: Adult overall
Notes: So brynwulf and I got to talking in IM. A dangerous thing, as it turns out...
Legalese: FNL and SPN are copyright their respective owners. This is a labor of love, not lucre.
Word count: 1,950
Summary: Follows immediately after Snapshot #8
Riggins & Winchester, Snapshot #9: Dean meets Herc
There was an almost audible groan when Herc rolled into the circle of firelight. Jason winced. He hated the new tension in the air, but Herc had become one of his closest friends in the past few months and Jason was nothing if not loyal.
"What's up, kids?" Herc cockily popped a wheelie before squeezing into the space between Lyla and Jason.
Lyla scooted her chair farther from Herc's and said, "Dandy till you rolled into town."
Herc just shrugged and threw his head back, laughing. "Just doin' a bit of slummin'. Wanted to see what my boy Jason's up to."
Herc's gloved hand on Jason's arm caused Lyla to glance away quickly, and Tyra just twisted her mouth into a parody of keeping quiet. Jason caught Sam's look of confusion and latched onto it as an excuse to divert the discussion.
"Herc, here, he sort of got me through PT after the accident. Then got me into the tryouts for the National Rugby Team."
When Sam looked even more confused, Herc jumped in. "Quad rugby, dude. Not for the faint of heart, but Jason blows 'em away."
Jason felt himself blushing, but didn't really want to talk about his failure to make the team, either. He was about to ask Sam if he'd played any sports in school when he heard the growl of American muscle drift through the trees, across the pasture.
"And who might you be?" Herc asked, holding his hand out to Sam.
"Herc, this is Sam," Jason said. "Sam, Herc."
Sam reached over him and shook Herc's hand.
"You new in town, Sam?" Herc asked. "I know how the girls love fresh meat."
Sam's mouth tightened, but he said, politely enough, "I'm on a road trip with my brother. Just passing through."
"Beer's here," Tyra announced and walked over to the cooler to dump out the melted ice.
A couple minutes later, two shadows outside the circle of light took the form of Tim and his new friend Dean. Jason had wanted to ask Tim how he'd come to know the guy and his brother, but they'd taken off shortly after Tim introduced them.
"Where've you been?" Tyra called out. "I thought we'd have to send out a search party. Y'all buy beer in Galveston?"
Jason busied himself reaching into the cooler to hand out the last of the remaining beers and make room for the new, then, while leaning over Herc's chair to hand Lyla a can, Jason noticed Herc's expression and followed it back to where Sam and Tyra were greeting the boys.
Swiveling his head back to Herc, he asked, "What? What is it?"
Herc made no effort to keep his voice down. "Looks like your best friend's been havin' some fun."
A sudden silence filled the night. Jason kept looking back and forth between Herc and Tim, still not sure exactly what Herc was busting Tim's chops for this time. He knew there was no love lost between them, but so far Jason had managed to remain friends with both men without having to step in more than a couple of times.
Finally, Tim turned toward the two men in wheelchairs and narrowed his eyes at Herc. Jason could see the danger reflected by the firelight, but he also noticed something else. Tim's face was flushed and his hair was pushed back in damp ropes. His mouth looked bruised. Dean stood back in the shadows, just out of reach of the light, but Jason finally caught on to what Herc had been implying.
Alarm danced along nerves he wasn't sure he could even feel anymore. No. No way. Tim had done some stupid things in his time, but this? Whole new levels of dumb, even for Tim. They didn't know anything about this guy Dean, or his brother, except that they'd blown in from out of town and were pretty darn cagey about what they did for a living. Tim tended to make most of his decisions with his crotch, and this time, it might come back to bite him in the ass. Jason groaned and wished that particular image hadn't come to mind.
Herc grinned in triumph when Lyla, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents, threw him a beer. As he wrapped his hand around the can, he said "I guess you guys bought the beer first huh? This shit's warmer than piss."
Tim leaned back against the side of Tyra's truck and crossed his legs at the ankles. "You got something to say?"
Jason could tell from the look on Herc's face that this was going nowhere good.
Herc made a show of looking Tim slowly up and down, and said "You take the long way, son?"
Tim tilted his head. "I ain't your son," he said mildly, but something in his tone made Jason sit up straighter. Ooooh, shit. Dean stepped forward, into the light, and from beside Herc, Jason heard Lyla gasp.
Dean's mouth looked swollen, too, his color high, even in firelight. Unless they'd picked up then ditched a couple of girls in the past hour, Jason couldn't come up with any other explanation for why they looked like they did. Fuck. Herc wasn't the most diplomatic guy in the world, but he also wasn't wrong very often.
Herc looked deliberately from Tim to Dean, and said, "Oh, come on, all you boys have daddy issues."
Like a bitter and unexpected breeze, the mood changed. Tim powered forward like he was on the field: agile, mobile and hostile. But before he could reach Herc -- and Jason didn't really want to know what would happen then; Herc might win a war of words, but Tim could kick Herc's ever-lovin' ass in about ten seconds, and God alone knew what Dean was capable of -- Sam came out of his chair like a shot, startling a curse from Tyra. Dean moved, too, grabbing both of Tim's arms from behind, stopping him short in mid-lunge. Damn, Dean had to be some kind of strong to do that. Jason had seen Tim drag linebackers for yards, but when Dean clamped down on Tim's arms, that was it; Tim wasn't going anywhere. To Jason's surprise, Sam didn't step between Tim and Herc, but went straight to Dean. He put his hand on Dean's chest and pressed, hard. Despite Dean's hold, Tim still loomed over Herc, breathing hard, his face set in lines Jason remembered from being down ten points with two minutes to go.
Sam looked at Dean. Something passed between them, some fast and silent communication, and Dean nodded once. Sam stepped away from him and turned to face Herc.
"You might want to back off a little," Sam said evenly to Herc. He towered over Herc. His stance wasn't as threatening as Tim's, but Jason still didn't like the odds. "Looks like you hit a sore spot."
"That's Herc's specialty," Jason said, rolling over and setting himself smack dab in the middle, between Dean and Sam, Tim and Herc. "Get 'em where it hurts, cuz chicks dig scars, right, Herc?"
Herc loved nothing more than stirring up shit, and Jason had had about enough of it. It was one thing to listen to Herc's particularly pungent blend of tough love and crap day in day out, but this wasn't that. This was Herc chapping Tim's hide just because he could, plain and simple. And that wasn't cool. "You're just messing with them, right?"
Herc curled up his lip and didn't say anything.
"Right?" Jason said, a little louder, and shoved against Herc's chair with his own.
Herc finally looked at him. Jason lifted his hands, like, 'what the fuck, man?'
"He does whatever he wants, and you let him," Herc bit out.
"He's my friend," Jason said. Herc narrowed his eyes. "And so are you," Jason continued. "So cut that shit out. It's a party, remember?"
"A party you weren't exactly invited to," Tyra tossed in from the side.
Herc made a show of cracking his neck, then said to Tim, "Just messin' with you, like QB said." He didn't mean a word of it, that was plain as the nose on his face, but Jason slapped him on the back and said, "There you go," like everything was okay, like they could go back to drinking and shooting the shit. Like Jason didn't have to live with wondering just how long and hard you'd have to kiss somebody to make them look like that.
Dean let go of Tim's arms, and Tim stood there for a minute, glaring at Herc. Dean stayed behind him, steady as a rock, probably the only person still left at the party who could take Tim down if it got that far. Tim took a breath and lifted his hands. Only then could Jason see that Dean still had his hand on Tim, low on his back, just above his jeans. That wasn't a friendly touch, or a fight-stopping touch. That was, well, that was an intimate touch, and that, more than Tim's hair or Dean's mouth, told Jason that Herc had nailed it. Tim and Dean had…were…had just been…God.
Tyra tossed Tim one of the last cold beers from the old cooler. "Chill," she said, her eyes flickering from Tim to Dean and back. Tim hunched his shoulders and stepped forward, moving to the opposite side of the circle and dropping into a chair. He tucked his chin to his chest, body language Jason had seen hundreds of times.
Dean, who'd only met Tim when, yesterday? Who didn't know him like Jason did, who hadn't been there when Tim had his first growth spurt and his toes pushed holes in his sneakers because Billy didn't have enough money to buy new ones every couple months, who'd never seen Tim play, hellbent for leather. Dean, who couldn't possibly know or care about him the way Jason did, looked at Tim sitting in his lawn chair, and walked over to Herc.
Herc looked up, and for the first time, seemed uncertain. Jason had always known he was smart. Herc opened his mouth, but Dean cut him off.
"You think you can say whatever you want, because you're in that chair?" Dean said, looking down at Herc.
Smart as he was, Herc still wasn't smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he pulled on some bravado from somewhere and said, "Pretty much."
Dean leaned over, put his hand on the back of Herc's chair and spoke in his ear. "Think again."
Jason felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, felt his scar pulse, and a hush fell across their little circle again. Jason looked over at Sam, the closest thing he had to a barometer on Dean, but Sam didn't seem concerned. He had his eye on Dean, but he was relaxed, sipping his beer.
Herc swallowed hard. "Yes, sir"," he said, sketching a salute, but the sass rang hollow.
Dean turned his back on Herc and went over to his brother, taking the beer Sam held out. Jason looked at Herc -- beads of sweat stood out on Herc's forehead, despite the chill, and Jason stifled a grin.
Herc might have finally met his match.
***
For all previous parts, click here.