Then there's the rest of the time, when Jason's got a regular chorus in his brain. In a game, it's there's a hole there, rush in or Jonathan's wide open, pass to him. During sex, it's she's not moaning as hard as last time, better try harder. In everyday life, it's don't forget to get the mail and take out a pen, you'll need it to reach the elevator button. And right now, there's just one single thought bouncing around inside his head like some hyperactive ping-pong ball.
Tim Riggins is into guys. Tim Riggins is into Jason.
They didn't talk about it beyond that first conversation, stammered out in a hallway outside the gym, wheelchairs clanging and coaches shouting in the background. But that was still enough to shade the rest of Tim's visit, from yesterday afternoon all the way through to an hour ago, when Jason watched Tim get on a big red motorcycle and head off east toward the interstate. Even now, it's as if somebody's swapped the colors of the world around. Everything looks just a little bit off.
And there's no forgetting that awkward goodbye hug, cars whizzing past them on the road in front of Jason's building, Tim's arm across his shoulders. The way Jason wanted to jerk back, and barely managed not to. An acidic clot forms at the back of Jason's throat. He wheels himself toward the coffee table and grabs Herc's latest Sports Illustrated.
A key clicks in the lock, and Herc comes through the door. He's got one big white paper bag in his lap and a smaller one clamped between his teeth, but somehow he still manages a swagger. He drops the smaller one onto the kitchen table. "Okay," he says. "I hope you're hungry for ribs, QB, cause I don't think I can eat all this myself."
Jason raises an eyebrow. "I thought Coach told us to cut back on fat."
Herc rolls his eyes. "What're you, the food police?" Gripping the smaller bag between two fists, he slides the contents out onto the kitchen table. "Me and Paulie are gonna go get a couple beers later. You should come. Bring Tim."
A knot tightens in Jason's chest. "Tim went back to Texas."
Herc crumples the white paper bag into a ball and aims it at the basketball hoop on the wall. He misses. "Short visit."
"Hm."
Humming something tuneless to himself, Herc wheels his way back over to the basketball hoop, scoops up the paper-bag ball, and tries again. It whooshes through the hoop and lands on the floor. Herc pumps a fist into the air.
Jason opens the magazine to the title page. Opposite it is a deodorant ad that's got a shirtless guy with a come-hither look. Jason sucks in his cheeks.
"Hey, think fast," Herc says, and Jason reaches up without looking. He traps the paper-bag ball between his fist and his leg. He lifts his eyes to meet Herc's in a cold stare, and shoots the ball over to the coffee table.
"Whoa-ho-ho. That was some look." Herc wheels himself back over to the table. "My friend Jason...he's in a real shitty mood," he sings.
Jason grits his teeth. He turns another page, but his eyes won't fix on the magazine.
"You need to loosen up, man," Herc says. "Come have some ribs. Live a little."
"You harden your own arteries. I ate already." Jason slaps the magazine shut, tossing it onto the table. He wheels his way around and over to the window. Rush hour's over, and the traffic on the street below is finally easing up a bit. By now, Tim would have cleared the Riverside glut and would be driving east down I-10.
"I think somethin's eatin you," Herc says. A second crumpled paper bag hits Jason in the back of his head, and he flinches. "What gives?"
Jason swallows. What the hell. He turns back around. "Okay. What do you think you'd do if a friend of yours—" He gestures in the air with a cupped fist. "And I'm talkin somebody who you've known a lot of years by this point—told you he was...interested in guys."
Herc's eyebrow inches up, and his mouth puckers like he's just taken a big bite of a lemon. "You tryin to tell me somethin, QB?"
"No." A laugh falls out of Jason's mouth. "No. Not—it's Tim."
Herc blinks. "Tim? Your Tim? The dude who slept with Miss Lyla?"
"Yeah."
"She done turned him!" Herc's eyes are wide with glee. "I knew there was something wrong with—"
"Oh, my God." Jason narrows his eyes. "This is not about—God, you are such an asshole."
Herc grins. "Better watch out, you slept with her, too. You might be next. You never know."
"Would you try and be serious for ten seconds? Please."
Herc's mouth pinches into a fake-looking frown. He clutches his hands together and lays them in his lap.
"Thank you." Jason puts his head down and pushes a breath out through his nose. He looks back up. "Anyway, looking back, it seems like that little incident was really about...me."
Herc's eyes bug out. "About you."
"That's what he said."
Herc shakes his head. "Okay, that is one sick, twisted little world y'all was livin in back then, my friend." His nose wrinkles. "What'd he go tellin you that for?"
"I don't know! I guess he didn't want some huge thing standin between us or somethin."
Herc flashes him a wicked grin. "It sounds like he'd like to have a huge thing standin between you."
There's a sour taste on the back of Jason's tongue. Ugh. "Okay, just—never mind. Forget I said anything about this."
"Oh no. You don't get to bring somethin like that up and then just let it drop." Herc wheels himself into the living room, circling Jason. He comes to a stop by the couch and flicks on the brake.
Jason sighs. "Okay. Tim's always been a little...intense. So it's not like it hadn't crossed my mind that he might—" He feels his mouth tighten. "But I swear, I never let him think...anythin. And now I'm rememberin all the times he's, you know, touched me, or carried me, and I'm wonderin, what was he thinkin about then?" He shakes his head. "I'm tellin you, this whole thing is puttin images into my head that I'd really rather not have there."
"So basically, the guy's pretty much in love with you."
Jason flinches. Weird, weird, weird. He presses his lips together.
"But he knows you don't swing that way."
"He just had dinner with me and Kathy. I think it's clear."
Herc shrugs. "So what, then? Sounds like he knows the score. I mean, it's too bad, so sad for him, but how does this bust your balls?"
Jason shakes his head. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he ain't exactly gonna sneak up behind you and ram you while you ain't lookin. Unless you want him to." Herc's eyebrows inch up, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "In which case I have to say, if y'all are gonna be doin that in the middle of my kitchen, this livin arrangement is off."
"Herc." Jason makes a face.
"No, I'm bein totally serious, here, QB. I mean, ain't there never been a girl you wanted who just didn't feel that way about you? Cause it's the same thing." He shakes a knuckle at Jason. "What about—that chick from San Diego. From last fall. Cheryl."
"Sharon. And okay, I'm sorry, but that is really not the same thing."
"What's the difference, then?"
"It's..." Jason isn't sure. He clamps his mouth shut. He frowns.
"Okay, I know a thing or two about this whole homosexual thing—"
"You know girl-on-girl porn doesn't count, right?"
"Uh-uh, not even. Remember Bobby? From tryouts in Austin, few years ago?"
Bobby Marsden was a huge guy with a giant reach and the heaviest-duty chair his insurance money could buy. Jason's eyebrow inches up. "You're sayin Bobby was gay."
"As a summer-camp blowjob." Herc flicks off the brake and does a little wheelie. "And you've been buck naked in front of him and he didn't try to jump you, so I think you're gonna be safe around Tim."
"Bobby. Man." Jason shakes his head. Maybe the whole world's gay. "He told you?"
Herc nods. "He did."
"He didn't tell me."
Herc rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I wonder why that would be." He gestures at Jason with a knuckle. "You know what you are? You're homophobic."
Jason's shoulders tense. "You learn that fifty-cent word at quad rugby school?"
"Irrational fear or hatred for homosexuals. That's you, my friend."
"I don't hate Tim. And I'm sure not afraid of him."
"So what's the big deal?"
Jason frowns. "It's just—I guess it's that things have always been so easy between us. Even after all that crap with Lyla...I mean, I've known Tim since I was six. He was always just there, you know?" He clutches his hand to his stomach. "This changes everything."
"It don't have to. I mean, he's the same guy, right?"
The same guy with shorter hair. And an easier smile. Jason can't help but wonder what's happened, how Tim's gotten from there to here. He swallows. He can't help but wonder, but he doesn't really want to know.
Herc gives his head a shake. "Look at it this way. He trusted you enough to tell you. Imagine bein him and havin to talk to you about that."
A dim hallway, but not so dim that Jason couldn't see Tim's face, red with nerves and struggling to force out the words. He must have been scared to death. There's a little flutter in Jason's throat.
"Most people don't stick around for the long haul, and your Tim has." Herc taps his hand against his wheel. "I mean, the guy even followed you to Mexico and saved your ass once. I'm tellin you, man, if you push him away now, you're gonna lose somethin powerful."
Jason's eyes drop to the floor. "I'm not gonna push him away." They've been to hell and back together at least twice, him and Tim. Probably more than that. "I'm just kinda freaked out."
Herc shrugs. "Well, you go on and do your freakin out, then. Long as he ain't here to see it."
Jason tosses a hand in the air. "I mean, is he gonna start datin guys now?"
Herc's mouth turns up in a smirk. "That's how it tends to work, yeah." He raises an eyebrow. "Why, you jealous?"
"No!" Jason screws up his face. A shiver stretches down his back until he can't feel it anymore. He sighs. "I guess it's just gonna take some gettin used to."
Herc cocks his head to one side. "Well, if you can get used to sittin on your ass all the time, you can get used to anythin."
Jason laughs. "Ain't that the truth."
Herc fixes his eyes on Jason. "What would you have done if it was me?"
A smirk tugs at the corner of Jason's mouth. "You mean if you came to me and told me you were in love with me?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'd have laughed in your face."
Herc's eyes are wide and cool. "Maybe I am. Ever thought about that?" He rocks his chair back and forth.
A nerve jumps in Jason's neck, and then something shifts in the air, in the little electric particles that tell a guy where things stand. This isn't a conversation anymore—suddenly they're facing off, like on the floor of the gym. It's about intimidation, and it's about who's got the upper hand. It's nothing new between them, and Jason's not in the mood.
Slowly, Herc inches closer, his eyes not budging. Jason puts his hands on his wheels. "Okay, man, I'm really not—" His heart speeds up. "Seriously, you can quit psychin me out anytime, now."
Herc's right in front of him now. He leans in, and Jason can feel his breath on his neck. A shudder crawls up to Jason's face, and a red-hot flush chases after it. He stretches away from Herc, his head back as far as it will go.
And then Herc's lunging at him, his hands on Jason's shoulders. He kisses the air on either side of Jason's head. "Oh, baby. Baby. I loooooove you!"
Adrenaline pumps through Jason, and he grabs Herc's arm with one hand and jabs him in the side with a fist with the other. And then Herc's hands are on his chair, and they're both tipping over. He breaks his fall with an outstretched arm. They collapse to the ground in a heap.
Herc's on top of him now, a dead weight on Jason's chest. He plants a wet kiss on Jason's forehead with a loud smack, pulls back, and promptly cracks up.
Jason rolls his eyes. He concentrates every bit of strength he's got in his arms to push Herc off, and Herc lands on the floor with a thunk. Herc tosses his head back, his face a deep red. His laughter's coming in waves, loud and long like it might never stop.
He looks ridiculous. A chuckle topples out of Jason's mouth.
Somewhere in the back of Jason's brain, a switch flicks. The chorus first quiets, then stops. The muscles in his shoulders loosen. He lets go. His head drops to the floor, and he's full-on laughing now, his throat raw and his heart singing.
When it's done, Herc rolls over onto his side, propping himself up with a fist against his head. A drop of sweat drips down his forehead to his ear, and he gives Jason a goofy grin. "I don't swing that way, neither, y'know. But if I was ever gonna change my mind about that, I'd save it all for you."
Jason puts on his best serious expression and gives Herc a grave nod. "I appreciate that, man. Truly."
Herc cuffs him on the arm.
Jason cuffs him back.
