Tim blinks at the board's stupid font with its overcomplicated loops and strokes, and has to admit that, yeah, maybe he does. He never knew Jay, never really knew anyone involved in Alex Kralie's dumb little movie project all that well aside from Brian. As far as Tim was concerned, Merrick was just some mousy kid who must've known Alex or Seth or Sarah or Brian, and that was the extent of their interaction. He never really knew him, never spent the time to. Even later, when it was just them sandwiched in a car on a hot road together for hours, they rarely if ever discussed anything heavier than where to stop for gas. Jay always knew more about Tim than he knew about Jay; that was just how it was.
For a while there he forgot that there was anything to know about Jay.
Tim hums faintly in acknowledgement, trying to suppress the pang of guilt for tearing into the man again and again and again and again, in parking lots and apartments and abandoned houses and in dreams, howling at him, heaping blame on those skinny little shoulders.
What gives Tim the goddamn right.
He's so mired in his own flare of self-reproach that it takes him a minute to process the shift in his surroundings, the flutter of Jay's slightly transparent shape directly across from him.
"You - " His eyes widen, one hand reaching forward, fingertips not quite brushing the general vicinity of Jay's chest. "Jay? Jay."
no subject
Tim blinks at the board's stupid font with its overcomplicated loops and strokes, and has to admit that, yeah, maybe he does. He never knew Jay, never really knew anyone involved in Alex Kralie's dumb little movie project all that well aside from Brian. As far as Tim was concerned, Merrick was just some mousy kid who must've known Alex or Seth or Sarah or Brian, and that was the extent of their interaction. He never really knew him, never spent the time to. Even later, when it was just them sandwiched in a car on a hot road together for hours, they rarely if ever discussed anything heavier than where to stop for gas. Jay always knew more about Tim than he knew about Jay; that was just how it was.
For a while there he forgot that there was anything to know about Jay.
Tim hums faintly in acknowledgement, trying to suppress the pang of guilt for tearing into the man again and again and again and again, in parking lots and apartments and abandoned houses and in dreams, howling at him, heaping blame on those skinny little shoulders.
What gives Tim the goddamn right.
He's so mired in his own flare of self-reproach that it takes him a minute to process the shift in his surroundings, the flutter of Jay's slightly transparent shape directly across from him.
"You - " His eyes widen, one hand reaching forward, fingertips not quite brushing the general vicinity of Jay's chest. "Jay? Jay."