Title: Practice

Pairing: Mild, innocent Chester/Timmy

Rating: T

Reason: I just don't want to get any flames about this being rated too low, so I rated it the highest possible for the content because it's certainly not 'M'. It's probably not even 'T', but I wanted to be safe.

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Timmy sat there, looking down at the half-deflated basketball between his feet. He and Chester were sitting in Chester's backyard – that is, if you could call the eight-foot space between Chester's trailer and the trailer behind his a 'backyard'. They sat on the back steps of the trailer, the two almost same-height boys just short enough that their feet dangled a few inches above the grass.

"Would you rather eat a bug, or be stuck with Vicky for two hours?" Timmy queried, attempting to engage Chester in the game. It was very very hot, far too hot for two ten-year-old boys to be sitting in the sun out on the back steps of a trailer with only a small awning above them for shade, but Timmy hadn't wanted to be rude and Chester, it seemed, was used to it, even though he had shed the olive green jacket he usually wore a bit earlier on in the day.

"When am I going to have to choose between those two?" Chester queried, wrinkling up his nose in confusion.

"You won't. That's the whole fun of the game!" Timmy grinned. "Now c'mon, answer the question."

"Well," Chester pondered, "is the bug alive, or is it dead?"

"What does it matter, dude? It tastes the same," Timmy insisted.

"Well, it would be mean to the bug if I ate it while it was still alive. If it was dead, it won't feel anything," Chester pointed out. Timmy smiled slightly. It was just like Chester to think about the bug's pain before he thought of his own distaste at eating an insect.

"Don't worry, it's dead."

"Okay, I'll eat the bug, then," Chester decided, smiling triumphantly. "Did I win the game?"

"It's not really a game you win. It's just for fun," Timmy explained. "Now you have to give me one. Give me two totally gross options and then have me pick one."

"Alright," Chester nodded. "Would you rather…um…take every bath you take for the rest of your life in melted butter, or only wear the same orange overalls for the whole time you're in middle school?"

"Good one," Timmy cackled. "I think I'll choose the melted butter. I don't look very good in orange overalls."

"Who does?" Chester agreed. "Alright, give me one."

The two boys went back and forth, their questions getting more and more disgusting each time, and therefore making the two boys completely hysterical, as gross-out humor appeals immensely to ten-year-old boys.

Eventually, they were laughing over Chester's most recent question, which had a lot to do with toilets and was the most disgusting so far, and Timmy was inwardly dreading each option, for young boys very rarely realize in this game that never will they actually have to do either of the ultimatums they are faced with.

And it was at this time that Timmy came up with an idea that would, perhaps, change things for the rest of their lives.

"I'll pick the first one," Timmy decided, allowing Chester a few minutes to fake-gag over his option before continuing, "and my next question is…would you rather have to eat every meal you eat from now on in a Port-a-Potty, or…" Timmy paused for dramatic effect before finishing, "kiss Vicky."

The question seemed to hang completely still in the air as Chester pondered over it.

"I wonder what it would be like," he mused, "kissing, I mean."

"Kissing Vicky?"Timmy cried, his gags actually crossing over into the 'real' zone as he tried to hold down his lunch.

"Oh, god, no, gross!" Chester yelped, also gagging. "No, no, I mean…kissing in general."

"You've never kissed anyone before?" Timmy queried.

"No way. I would've told you about it," Chester insisted, his blue-green eyes widening to show his sincerity.

"I know, buddy. I would've told you about it, too, if I'd kissed someone."

"I know you would," Chester nodded in agreement. "And I know we both think girls are way gross."

"Totally," Timmy agreed, nodding a bit overenthusiastically.

"But," Chester continued, "do you ever think about what it would be like…you know, kissing a girl?"

"Do you?" Timmy timidly asked.

"Well…yeah. Sometimes. Only when my brain is real tired and it forgets how icky they are, though," Chester quickly added.

"I do sometimes, too," Timmy sighed. "I hear their lips are really soft. I can't imagine kissing something that soft."

"Me neither. And it's not like I haven't tried imagining, either. Because I have. A lot."

"You know what I'm real scared about?" Timmy lowered his voice and looked around, as though Chester's neighbors might have suddenly decided to all leave their trailers and eavesdrop on their conversation.

"What?" Chester whispered back.

"I'm scared that when a girl tries to kiss me, I won't know what to do and I'll just stand there and look like an idiot until she walks away," Timmy confessed.

"I'm scared of that, too," Chester eagerly agreed. "Or that when she kisses me, I'll accidentally bite her lips off."

Timmy sat there for a moment, deep in thought. He mused over the conversation he and Chester had just had for a minute before a thought lit up his mind and a fast smile came over his face.

"Hey Chester, I just had an idea."

"What is it, Timmy?" Chester queried.

"Well, what if we practiced so we're really good when a girl finally asks us to kiss her?"

"But if we're practicing on girls, aren't we already kissing them?" Chester confusedly asked.

"What if we didn't practice on girls? What if we practiced on somebody else?"

"Who else is there to practice on? Boys?" Chester laughed.

"Well, not other boys. Maybe just…each other," Timmy timidly offered. Chester's eyes grew big.

"You want me to kiss you, Timmy?" Chester nervously asked. "I'm not so sure I can…"

"No, no," Timmy insisted. "It won't be like that. You kiss me and pretend I'm a girl, and I'll kiss you and pretend you're a girl, and then if we're really really bad at it, we'll tell each other and that way neither of us will be embarrassed with a girl. Plus, we'll finally know what it feels like to kiss, so we won't have to wonder anymore."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Chester admitted after a moment. "But you'll have to promise to tell me if I'm bad. Don't try to be nice. If I'm really bad, you've got to tell me."

"I will," Timmy promised. "And if I'm really bad, you've got to tell me, too."

"I promise I will," Chester insisted. The two boys sat there staring at each other for a moment. Finally, Timmy turned to face Chester, and Chester turned to face Timmy, so the two of them were both kneeling down on the steps, sitting on their folded knees.

"Are you ready?" Timmy whispered, for it seemed like a whispering moment. Chester nervously nodded. They waited one more minute before Timmy reached over and wrapped his arm around Chester's shoulder, letting his hand rest on his best friend's neck, and then he leaned over and pressed his lips against the blond's mouth. For a minute Chester didn't kiss back, and Timmy was afraid that he really was going to have to tell Chester that he was bad, until finally Chester pressed his lips back against Timmy's and put his hand against the small of Timmy's back to steady himself. They stayed like that until a need for oxygen overcame the two of them and they parted, both pulling in air as fast as they could and feeling a bit like they'd just run a mile.

"Was I bad?" Timmy asked softly.

"No," Chester answered. "You were good."

"Okay, good," Timmy smiled proudly.

"What about me?" Chester queried.

"You were good, too," Timmy nodded.

"Hey, Timmy," Chester called after a minute of silence, "what if we were just good on accident, and we can't be good on purpose when we kiss a girl?"

"Oh no," Timmy gasped at the thought. "Maybe we should try again."

"I think we should," Chester agreed, and the two of them turned to face each other once again.

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A/N: I made them talk and act a bit younger here to try to preserve some innocence.

Before you all get mad at me for writing shota, keep in mind that kissing alone is usually not considered to be yaoi.