fic: Justified

[withimpunity]

 
Okay. So this is like. It sucks. But at least I know that?

That Kinda Evenin'
Dep. Tim Gutterson
1294 words
ps: justified_slash 



Okay, so he might be a little drunk. Half a bottle of Southern Comfort on a humid Kentucky evening will do that to a man. He's been off the clock for three and a half hours, watching reruns of CSI Miami, taking a shot everytime Caruso says something douchey; which, no wonder he's drunk.

"Hope we didn't ruin your evenin' too much," Raylan says politely with an easy smile that Tim envies sometimes. He wonders if there's a pair of pants out in the world that Raylan couldn't get into with that soft Kentucky drawl of his and that lazy smile.

"Aw, I was just feedin' my cats and doing some knitting," Tim gives him a lopsided grin, running his fingers through his greasy hair as he staggers down the sidewalk, bumping into Raylan's shoulder a few times just for fun. Raylan's solid and still and Tim's never seen him drunk before, but he's seen the black eyes and busted lips and heard enough tales to give his imagination a good kick start.

"Well, thanks for coming out." Raylan pats him on the back, squeezing his arm a little before he lets go, straightening the brim of his hat. "Really appreciate it, Tim."

"No problem. Mi military ID es su military ID," He jokes, flashing Raylan another tiny grin and there's a chance he's flirting -- a small chance, but that's what they get for pulling him out of the air conditioning and away from his whiskey and a greasy bucket of fried chicken. Besides, he's not used to being around Raylan like this, all dressed down and loose, fuzzy around the edges. Whatever he says or does is their fault, that's all he's saying.

When Tim flashes his card, he can hear Raylan and Art behind him, sniggering when the VFW's bouncer guy smiles all pretty at him. He says they've got a boy inside getting ready to ship out tomorrow and Tim says, "maybe he'd like to buy me a drink," but his eyes say, "maybe I can buy you one," and the next thing he knows, Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous is slipping a piece of paper into the front pocket of his flannel shirt and telling him to call him, anytime.

When they finally get out of the damn VFW later, all their phones just happen to light up at the same exact time and it looks like Crowder's left them a little present. Peachy.

"Goddammit," Tim swears, kicking a clump of gravel against the wall with his boot. "I was gonna get laid tonight, too."

"Hope your boy takes a rain check," Art says to him over the roof of Raylan's car, him and Raylan silently exchanging amused expressions.

"Yeah," Tim grumbles, glancing back at the VFW one last time before sliding in the back of Raylan's car. "Me fucking too."



***


Its two-thirty when they finally finish up at the scene, three before Tim gets home and showers, pours himself another shot of whiskey as he fingers the business card Sykes slipped into his pocket. James Sykes. Tim bets he was a marine; he's got that look about him. Silent, deadly, knows just how to fill out a pair of blue jeans. Fuck it.

"Hey. Hey, its Tim. From the VFW tonight. You remember, good." Tim drains the rest of his glass and sets it down on the counter. "I know its late, but you did say anytime."




***



"I don't usually fuck Marines," Tim says, interrupting one hell of a make-out session, waiting to get a response out of the man. Its not important, not really, and its a bold faced lie; Tim's fucked plenty of Marines, but he likes to know things about people. Intel. He needs more than a first name and a shoe size if he's going to let someone see the inside of his bedroom.

Sykes just shrugs, tangling his fingers up in Tim's hair to expose the side of his neck, let his teeth and tongue slide down to the dip where his collarbone is exposed and suck a bruise into the pale, freckled skin there. Tim's knees buckle a little bit, his hands wrapping around tight, firm muscle for leverage. "I'm not so particular," James murmurs against his skin, sending a ripple of goosebumps down Tim's spine. "You know what they say."

"Enlighten me," Tim half groans as James reaches down and starts palming his dick through his jeans, thumbing open the button casually.

"A Marine will fuck anything."

Tim grins, he was right, a marine, satisfied with this information for the moment, and strips his own shirt off, shoving James against the living room wall, pushing his hands underneath the tight grey t-shirt he has on, feeling all that flat, muscled skin warm beneath his fingers, pushing his tongue into James' mouth, tasting the vaguest hint of minty toothpaste underneath the Bourbon Tim offered him when he arrived.

"Fuck, you're pretty," Tim mutters and claims James' mouth once more before leading him to his bedroom.



***



The next morning he comes barreling through the doors with a box of Krispy Kremes and a drink carrier full of fancy four dollar coffee, garnering a suspicious look from Rachel over the top of her computer monitor. "You hate mornings," she points out, slipping one of the tall Styrofoam cups out of the holder. "You win the lottery or something?"

"I do not hate mornings," Tim argues, lying through his teeth. "Can't I just do something nice for my friends? My pals?"

One of Rachel's eyebrows ascends suspiciously, but it doesn't take her too long to piece together the puzzle. "Boy, you got some," she grins, head turning as Raylan walks through the door.

"I'm guessin' I must've missed something," he says, idly taking the coffee Tim hands him.

"Just that Tim here got lucky last night," Rachel offers, ignoring Tim's steely glare.

"Bouncer guy from the VFW?" Raylan raises his eyebrow, feigning interest, and takes a sip of his coffee.

Tim nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. "James. He was a," he makes an exaggerated, pearl-clutching motion with his hands for Rachel's amusement. "Marine."

"Well, you know what they say." Raylan muses quietly, grinning to himself as he walks off, disappearing into Art's office.

Tim doesn't stare at Raylan's ass as he walks away, mostly because he knows Rachel would catch him and smack him upside the head with a thick stack of file folders if he did. Still, he might sneak a little glance. He can't help it. He's got on those goddamn Wrangler's that fit so snug around his hips that Tim can't help but to imagine his fingers digging into them as Raylan fucks his mouth, tugging on his hair a little-

"Ow!"

"You need to stop that." Rachel scolds him. "Ain't good for you."

Tim sighs and looks away, blowing into his coffee to cool it off. He takes a deep breath and pushes those thoughts back down to the place inside of him where he puts all of the things he can't let himself think about - his Mama leaving him when he was seven, the first time he saw a man's head explode from his fifty cal, Raylan. He's got a fucking job to do and on top of all that, he's got to work with the man. Besides, Rachel's right. Raylan ain't no good for him; not in any way.

Tim's never really been the dating type, but maybe he'll call James again after work. See if he wants to watch the game or grab a drink. He could do something like that. He could.

"So," Tim says, spinning around in his chair. "Who do I get to shoot today?"





Comments

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

I am an old skool David Simon girl. I grew up watching Homicide (based on the book he wrote). So when The Wire came out I was all "YAYE!" And then it was like "WHOA." That's why I tagged GK when it was still in development, because of the magic name. Same with Treme. Which is AWESOME.


Fuck Mary Poppins, The Wire is practically perfect in every way.

HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hey, nice icon.

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Treme is downloaded, it just needs to be watched!

Oh, Stringer. :D

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

See you are one of these lucky snitches who discover David late and thusly get to see everything at one time instead of SIX YEARS of desperation.

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, YES. That is how I roll. Mainlining mountain dew, nutella, and great, great television for hours on end.

Oh wow, pretty Omar icon. ♥

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

LMFAO! Also maurheti and I were just talking about the awesome contained in this here LJ post, but she says she can't comment and I was like, um, that does not compute.

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

That's what I said! We were experiencing technical difficulties. I hope I fixed it.

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

Better technical difficulties than a wardrobe malfunction! Unless your name is Raylan Givens. Then I am sabotaging your wardrobe on a regular basis. So, will there be more Tim/James? What? I am being supportive!

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

I hope so! I wrote some porn in that thing I wrote, but it didn't feel right, so I took it out. So maybe there will be just! porn! written soon.

I'm serious though, if Tim Gutterson isn't for reals gay, I'm eating my pretty floral bonnet. Yeah, I read into subtext way too much but they can't even call that subtext. Dude was eye sexin' up that soldier like a mo'fucker, amirite?

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

LOL! I am not the person to ask about the flirting. No, seriously. I watched that episode three times (shut up) and didn't get any gay vibes. Stop shrieking.

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

ROFL. Consider shrieking halted. :P

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

And I may have watched not the whole episode, but certain scenes, a half a dozen times, yis. It happens!