Armie left the music room with his head reeling. Chalamet. At least he knew his surname now. Armie cringed. Timmy had shook his hand as if greeting a stranger. He needed a drink.
3 Years Earlier
It was getting late. Armie leant against the bar, beer in hand, weighing up his options for the evening. A pretty brunette had been making eyes at him for the past half hour. She was tempting, but he wasn't in the mood. He scanned the crowd, the sea of exposed flesh under pink and blue lights.
He spotted him again, off in a corner with his friends. The skinny kid in the red cap and the black t shirt that was too big. Wherever Armie went, this guy seemed to place himself directly in his eyeline. He'd been doing it all night. He smiled at Armie, then looked away, then snook a second glance over his shoulder.
It was getting close to last call. If the kid was gonna make a move, he'd have to do it soon. Armie turned back to the bar, smiling as he sipped his drink. 5, 4, 3, 2...
“Hi!” The skinny kid brushed up against him, shouting over the heavy bass.
“Hey!” Armie shouted back.
“You're much hotter in person!” The song changed while he was yelling. A couple of people turned to look at them, but he didn't seem to notice. “Do you wanna go outside for a smoke?”
Armie mulled it over for a moment before he nodded. What was the harm? He couldn't hear himself think any more. He downed the rest of his drink and followed his new friend out into the alley, buoyed along by a pleasant alcoholic haze.
“I'm Tim,” he said, sticking a cigarette in his mouth. He clicked his lighter several times before a weak blue flame appeared.
“I know. Armie Hammer, right?”
“Er, yeah,” Armie was thrown off balance for a second. He wasn't used to people recognising him.
Tim blew a cloud of smoke over his shoulder, offered Armie the cigarette. He took it gladly.
“I knew it was you. Stacy owes me twenty bucks.”
“Don't make fun. It's fifty if I get you to fuck me,” he pursed his lips around the cigarette, his eyes never leaving Armie's face.
Armie stared him down. “If you know who I am,” he said slowly, “then you know I have a wife. You know there's a baby on the way.”
Timmy shrugged, “Yeah, but we think you have this whole closeted vibe going on. Also, you're a time zone away from her, out alone in New York, and you followed me into a dark alley, so...”
“Maybe I wanted a smoke.”
“Maybe you want my ass.”
God, this kid was fucking brazen. Armie raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Smart mouth. Are you even old enough to be in here?”
Timmy shook his head, put his hands behind his back and twisted his body from side to side. “Nope. I'm only seventeen.”
He said 'only' like a tease. Like he knew it would make Armie's dick sit up and beg. They were standing far too close. Armie slowly pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Timmy tried to hold onto it with a gentle suck, his skinny fingers wrapping around Armie's wrist. It was a split second decision. Armie leaned in, his lips brushing Timmy's ear.
“Tell your friends you're going home. I'll be waiting.”
Timmy whistled low as Armie opened the door to the spacious loft. He walked in ahead, neck craned to take it all it.
“It's not mine,” Armie kicked his shoes off by the door. “I'm house sitting for a friend. I have some auditions coming up so they said I could stay here.”
Timmy wandered around, running a finger over the black marble countertop. “It's nice,” he eyed up the chrome barstools, the deep, plush sofa. “It's sexy.”
“Huh,” Armie shrugged. “I guess.”
“So many places to fuck,” Tim completed his circle of the kitchen and came to stand right in front of him. “Do you think they'd mind?”
“They'll never know.”
They kissed, Tim's mouth hot and impatient. His hand found Armie's cock, stroking and squeezing him to full hardness through soft denim.
“I knew you'd be hung,” Timmy moaned as Armie kissed his neck. “Wanna fucking choke on it.”
Armie just nodded, his hands clumsy as he pulled his zip down, pushed his jeans to his calves. Timmy sank to his knees. He mouthed at Armie's dick through his underwear, soaking it before pulling it down.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” He ran his tongue along the underside of Armie's cock, flicking the head and making it bounce. He sucked hard, hollowing out his cheeks. Armie turned his cap round so the peak didn't poke him in the stomach. Timmy hummed in agreement.
Armie fucked his mouth, encouraging him to take more with a hand on the back of his neck. Eventually, Timmy went too far and gagged. He pulled up quickly, wheezing as he stroked his neck.
“Sorry,” his voice was scratchy.
Armie ached for him. He stroked Timmy's face with his thumb and Timmy looked up adoringly, his lips spit slick and shiny. Armie pulled at his shirt collar to stand him up. Their kisses turned playful, swipes of tongue and nips of sharp, pointy teeth. They broke apart so Armie could pull his t shirt over his head, loving the way Timmy's eyes roamed his body. He shoved his jeans off the rest of the way and stood, naked in the kitchen, letting Timmy drink his fill.
“Still hotter in real life?”
Timmy swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. “I want your dick in me.”
“Straight to the point? OK. Take your shirt off.”
Timmy did as instructed, placing his hat on the countertop first. His baggy jeans hung low on his hips, exposing several inches of his neon pink underwear. Armie yanked them off without needing to unfasten them. Timmy stepped out of the pool of clothing into Armie's embrace, kissing and nuzzling every inch of skin he could reach.
He was a sight to behold, in his neon pink boxers and baby pink Converse. All creamy skin and long limbs. Armie kinda wished he'd kept the hat on. He swatted Timmy on the ass, grabbing a rough handful of his left cheek.
Armie sat, but made Timmy stand in front of him. He unlaced his shoes, holding each leg in turn so that he could remove them without Timmy falling over. His socks landed on the coffee table, his crotch in Armie's face. A wet patch was forming there already and Armie kissed it, inhaling the musky scent. Timmy moaned, loud and deep. Armie hooked his thumbs in his waistband and pulled his pants down, his mouth filling with saliva as Timmy's dick sprung free.
He had to have a taste. He licked a thick stripe over the slit and then moved away completely, smiling up at Timmy with cheeky smugness.
Timmy sank into the cushions next to him, virtually climbing on top of Armie to attack his mouth. Their dicks rubbed together, slick and overstimulated.
“I wanna eat your ass.”
Timmy blinked at him. “Huh?”
Armie ran a finger down his crack, “I wanna put my mouth here,” his finger came to rest against his furled entrance, “and here. I want to lick you out. Put my tongue inside you. Get you nice and wet.”
“Oh shit,” Timmy was blushing furiously, “No one's ever.”
“It feels amazing,” Armie sucked a bruise into his neck. “Would you like that?”
Timmy swallowed audibly, but he nodded.
Armie arranged them on the sofa so that Timmy was on his back, almost lying down. Armie knelt on the floor in front of him, pulled him forward by the hips so that his ass rested on the edge of the cushion. He spread Timmy's legs and pushed them up and out 'till they reached his shoulders.
“Hold your legs open for me.”
Timmy grasped himself behind the knees, colour high on his cheeks, his intimate skin on display for Armie's pleasure.
Armie dragged his tongue over his hole, all the way up to his balls. He took one in his mouth and then the other, testing their weight before heading south again, circling Tim's entrance. The noises he made were exquisite. Cute little mewls and hissed curses. His hands found Armie's hair and he gripped hard, pulling at his scalp. Armie pushed inside and Timmy tensed up immediately, breathing laboured.
“Hey,” Armie sat back, “relax. It's OK.”
“Can you stop?” Tim's legs were trembling. “I think I'm gonna come.”
Armie grinned wide, “So come.”
Timmy tilted his head into the sofa and moaned as Armie went back to work. A few more gentle flicks of his tongue and Timmy was gone, his release streaking his chest.
“Jesus, fuck,” he whimpered as he came down. “I think I'm in love with you.”
Armie laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Pretty good, right?”
“Fuck.” Timmy let his legs drop down.
Armie was painfully hard. He held his hand out to Timmy, helping him off the sofa, leading him towards the huge bed by the window.
He loved having Timmy under him. He explored his mouth with his own, nuzzled his neck, played with his cock until he was hard again. He coated his fingers with lube and pushed them inside, biting his lip at the heat, the pressure, the tight grip of Tim's muscles.
“Relax, gorgeous. I've got you.”
“I am relaxed,” he sounded anything but, “I just need you. Fuck me. Pound my tight ass. Please, Armie,” he shut his eyes, “I need it. Please.”
How could Armie resist that? He rolled a condom over his hard length, precome smearing the latex. He lubed up generously, rubbing the excess into Timmy's hole.
He held his breath as his head pushed through the first ring of muscle. There was tight and then there was this. It was actually hurting him. He stopped a third of the way in, panting, flicked his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
“Tim, baby, you gotta let me in, OK?” He looked down at Timmy, at his flushed pink cheeks and his face screwed up in pain, felt the tension in his body, the death grip of his fingers in his hip. His stomach lurched.
“Oh my God,” realisation slapped him in the face. “You haven't.”
He pulled out too fast, making Timmy yelp. “This is your first time, isn't it?” He ripped the condom off and dropped it on the floor.
“No,” Tim's voice was weak, embarrassed.
“You had such a fucking mouth on you. I thought,” Armie swallowed thickly. He sat down on the bed, head in his hands. Tim placed a cautious hand on his shoulder.
“Oh shit,” Armie groaned, “I smacked your ass!”
“I liked it,” Timmy protested.
“That's not the fucking point.”
“I think it's entirely the point.”
Armie winced, “Your first time should be...It should be...Not this,” he gestured between them.
“But I like you,” Tim was sitting cross legged behind him now, his face stubborn. His voice hitched as if he might cry. “I don't want fairy lights and pics of our legs on Instagram.”
Armie sighed as he turned to face him. “You shouldn't lose it to a guy like me,” he said softly. “Not some loser you picked up in a bar. You can do better. A lot better.”
Timmy shrugged, but didn't say anything. He traced an invisible pattern on the cotton sheet beneath him, pouty because he wasn't getting his own way.
Armie tried again. “I don't know anything about you.”
“I'm an actor,” Timmy said quietly, “or at least, I will be. Once I finish school.”
“Where do you go?”
“Huh,” Armie was pleasantly taken aback, “so you're serious about the acting thing?”
“I've had a few gigs. Biggest was Homeland last year.”
Timmy smiled, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “Yeah. I, er, I got some good reviews for it too.”
“Yeah? That's awesome, dude. Congrats.”
“So tell me more about your other stuff.”
Armie woke to the warmth of the sun and the warmth of Timmy's mouth on his dick. He moaned and stretched, his morning semi rising to full strength under Timmy's ministrations. His eyes were closed in devotion, long lashes kissing his cheekbones. His hair was naturally curly. Armie hadn't realised last night. He played with is as he smiled down at him.
Timmy pulled off. “Morning.”
“We talked all night.”
“Apparently,” Timmy smiled as he looked out of the window. “I want you even more now.”
Armie pulled him up to straddle his hips, chest to chest. He kissed him, his tongue eagerly seeking out a taste of himself.
“Are you sure?”
Timmy nodded, rocking his hips.
Armie stroked two fingers between his cheeks, gently circling his hole. He still felt slick from before, so Armie tentatively pushed his finger inside. It sank in easily.
Timmy whimpered. “You can do it. I won't break.”
Armie fumbled for the lube with his other hand, accidentally drizzling some on Timmy's back as he poured it onto his fingers.
Timmy giggled and squirmed. “Cold.”
Armie took his time stretching him out. Timmy was so soft and pliant on top of him, nuzzling under his jaw, rocking himself back into Armie's touch. When Armie could fit three fingers inside comfortably he pushed in as deep as he could. Timmy's eyes went wide as Armie touched his prostate, just a graze at first but then firm pressure in small circles. He threw his head back and whined, a thick stream leaking down his shaft. More seemed to come out with every press of Armie's fingers.
“Am I coming?” he panted, holding Armie's shoulder for balance.
Armie eased up, “Nope.”
Timmy made a strangled little sound. “But there's so much.”
“And it looks delicious,” Armie swiped the head with his left thumb. “Do you want me to taste it or do you wanna ride me?”
“Ride you,” no hesitation.
Armie eased his fingers out, sat up and fumbled in the draw for a condom. Timmy batted his hand away and chose one for himself instead. Armie huffed out a laugh as his shoulders hit the pillow.
Timmy put the condom on for him, frowning when it rolled up again. Armie helped it the rest of the way down. He held himself at the base while Timmy got into position. He had to lift up a little to spread his legs wide enough. His back arched as he took it, agonisingly slow, inch by inch, his face the picture of angelic bliss. The urge to slam into him was intense, but Armie controlled himself. He wanted to be good. He didn't want to rush like he had the first time. Timmy was perfect and he was going to savour him, enjoy him as many times as he could.
A freshly showered, worn out Timmy left the apartment just as the evening sky was turning pink. They stood on the pavement, not sure what to say.
Timmy scratched the back of his neck. “Um, thank you. For letting me stay and...Everything.”
Armie shook his head, crossed his arms and swallowed down the lump in his throat. Surely a one night stand shouldn't have left him feeling so gutted. “Yeah. And hey, good luck with it all. Sure I'll be watching your acceptance speech in no time.”
Timmy snorted. “Ha! OK.” He rolled his eyes, stood up on his tiptoes, planted one last kiss on Armie's mouth. “See you in another life, I guess.”
They went to Luca's house for dinner that night. Armie pushed food around with his fork, not really tasting anything, acutely aware of Tim's presence. Eventually they were left alone, and Armie couldn't take it any more.
“So hey, funny thing,” he cleared his throat, “The Inkwell? Maybe 3 years ago. You probably don't remember, but,”
“Armie,” Timmy cut him off with a smirk, “I'm just like you,” he put his knife and fork down neatly in the middle of his plate, dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I remember everything.”
Thank you to everyone who said they wanted more :)
Once again, in the flashback Timmy is 17. Don't read this if it will make you uncomfortable.
Luca chose that exact moment to come bustling in with the Affogato. Armie sat back too quickly, his chair scraping against the floor.
“Espresso? At this time. God, I'm gonna be up all night.” He watched a small smirk play at the corner of Timmy's mouth and cringed at his poor choice of words. Timmy didn't even look at him for the next twenty minutes, too busy eating coffee and ice cream with a spoon that was far too long. His little pink tongue darted out delicately to catch runaway drops. Armie's shorts were clinging horribly. He shifted in his seat, a half hearted attempt to rearrange himself. It didn't work.
Luca was talking about tomorrow's rehearsal, but he couldn't concentrate. He wanted to scoop Timmy up and sit him on his lap, grind against him until
“You should be getting off.”
Armie blinked back into reality.
“You're right, Luca. It is getting late,” Timmy was already standing, shrugging into a red hoodie.
“Well, goodnight, both,” Luca waved as he left the room.
Armie stood up, frowned at the sound of stairs creaking. “Isn't he gonna see us out?”
“Nope. You can stay for awhile if you want. He won't notice.”
Armie chuckled as he shook his head. “Right then. OK.”
“He'll notice if you fuck me, though. I'm kinda loud. Oh, wait,” Timmy's smile was downright devious, “you already know that.”
Armie took a step closer, up in Timmy's face in one long stride. Timmy had to tilt his head to look at him.
“Still got a smart mouth, I see.”
“And I've learned how to use it.”
“I'll bet,” Armie's voice was barely more than a whisper. He was mesmerised by the plushness of Tim's mouth, the fine dusting of stubble on his upper lip. That wasn't there the last time. Fuck.
“How did you feel?” He asked, “When you found out it was me?”
A shrug. A cocky head tilt. “Hard,” Timmy bit his lower lip. “Sticky.”
Armie sighed, savouring his confession and the resulting heat that bloomed in his stomach.
“Armie,” Timmy touched his leg, the lightest brush of his knuckles against the side of Armie's thigh.
Perspiration dampened the collar of Armie's shirt, under his arms, his lower back. “Hmm?”
“Can we go back to your place?”
It was everything Armie needed to hear. He felt drunk with desire, his dick full and hard, his balls drawn up tight in the confines of his underwear.
They left Luca's house and hurried down the street, Timmy jogging to keep up with his much faster pace. When they reached the foyer, Timmy stopped him with a hand on his wrist. He pulled Armie back to him, stood up on his tiptoes to kiss his mouth.
Armie's eyes fluttered closed as he drank him in. Timmy tasted like strong coffee and vanilla. He wanted to come in his mouth.
He pulled away with a smile, raised his eyebrows in suggestion. Timmy blushed, giggling and squirmy, eager to get their reunion underway.
Armie leapt away like he'd been electrocuted. Liz stood in the doorway, arms spread wide.
“My flight got in early! Isn't that great?”
“So great,” Armie said weakly.
She flung her arms round his neck and spun him round. Timmy walked into the apartment behind them, his hands in his pockets, sheepish. His eyes went wide when he saw her bump. Armie tried to mouth 'sorry,' over her shoulder, but Timmy wasn't looking at them any more.
“Hey, honey,” he detached himself from her embrace, “this is Timothée. He's the star.”
Liz whirled round, “Oh it's so great to meet you!” she hugged him tight, “So you're the guy who's borrowing my husband for 6 weeks, hmm?”
Armie was mortified, but Timmy just smiled.
“Yep, that's me. I promise to return him in resalable condition, too.”
Liz laughed loudly. “Oh, I like him, Armie! He's cute!”
“Hmm,” very non-committal.
Timmy stuck his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, acted bashful as he looked down at the floor.
“So, uh,” Armie had to get him out of the apartment. “Tim? Raincheck on video games, OK?”
Timmy laughed as he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” He said it more to Liz than to Armie. “Have a good night, guys. See you tomorrow.”
Armie closed the door behind him, felt the last of his energy seep into the heavy wood as he rested against it, just for a second.
“He seems nice,” Liz was rearranging ornaments on his window ledge.
“Yeah,” Armie scrubbed a hand through his hair, “we just met, so...”
“Of course,” Liz kissed his cheek.
Armie pushed down the guilt and hugged her from behind, his hands resting protectively on her stomach.
“How's my little guy doing?”
“He's good. He kicked all through the flight, though. I didn't get any sleep.”
“I'm pretty beat, too. Bed?”
She made a happy sound as she leant back against him.
3 Years Earlier
Armie smiled as he stepped out of the bathroom, towel round his waist. Timmy was perched on one of the chrome barstools, wearing his t shirt like a dress and sipping a can of Diet Coke as he scrolled through his phone.
He smiled as Armie approached. “Better?”
“Much.” He ran his hand up and down Timmy's back, lifting the t shirt slightly. A lot of creamy hip was exposed to his hungry gaze. “Are you wearing anything under that?”
Timmy shook his head.
“Isn't that seat cold?”
Timmy blushed. “That's kinda the idea.”
Armie pushed down on the lever with his foot, making the stool rise up several inches. Timmy winced as it jolted him forward.
“Fuck, baby,” Armie rubbed his back again, “I'm sorry.”
Timmy wrapped his arms around his neck. “It's fine,” his lips brushed Armie's, “I like it.” His hands skimmed Armie's chest and stomach, down to the knot in his towel, the bulge underneath. “I really like it.”
Armie woke in the early hours, breathing hard, pyjama bottoms twisted painfully around his erection. Liz slept soundly next to him. Pissed off and horny, he crept to the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet lid. His dick didn't take much encouragement. Five minutes later he was coming into a wadded up ball of toilet paper, mouthing Timmy's name and trying desperately to be quiet. He didn't go back to sleep after that.
Rehearsal that morning took place in Luca's garden. Timmy greeted him with a smile, but there was a cold detachment to him that hadn't been around the day before. Armie itched with the need to explain, to apologise, to make promises.
Luca handed them both scripts, told them to turn to the pages he'd marked with bright orange Post-Its.
The first kiss scene. Of course it was.
They sat facing each other. After a moment of awkwardness, Timmy leaned forward and kissed him. Eyes open, mouth closed, very chaste.
“No! No. Try again.”
Armie sighed and kissed Timmy again, tilting his head this time and opening his mouth a little. He teased Timmy's lower lip with his tongue, smiling as Timmy finally seemed to melt into it, his own tongue meeting Armie's as the kiss became more heated. Luca didn't say stop so Armie kept going. There were goosebumps on Timmy's arms. He whimpered when Armie stroked the hair at the nape of his neck.
When Armie pulled away, Luca was nowhere to be seen. Timmy looked around as if in a daze, pulling his shorts down at the front.
“He just left.”
They stared at each other for a moment and then cracked up laughing.
“Does that mean we did it right?” Timmy wheezed.
“Fuck knows,” Armie wiped his eyes. Then, softer, “Fuck, Tim. I'm sorry about last night.”
“Would you have fucked me?” Timmy was smiling, but his eyes were intense, “If she hadn't shown up?”
Armie felt like an exotic insect, pinned under his glassy green gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, I would have.”
Timmy nodded. He ripped up some blades of grass and sprinkled them back on the ground. “How long is she out here?”
“Hmm,” he sat for a moment, thoughtful, and then he was suddenly on his feet. “I can wait two weeks.”
He was half way back to the house before Armie had even processed what he'd said.
Entirely fictional. Please don't read if age difference bothers you.
I've updated the tags so that should give you some indication of what is to come in later chapters :)
3 Years Earlier
Timmy's clever fingers slowly untied the knot in Armie's towel. He stared openly, mouth slightly parted, until Armie's gentle laugh woke him from his trance.
“I wanna go again,” his tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.
Armie smiled, “You sure you're up for that?”
Timmy let his legs fall open. His erection poked out from under the hem of Armie's t shirt, lifting the fabric up towards his navel. He tilted his chin, raised his eyebrows with a victorious smirk.
Armie kissed it away, pulling Timmy off the stool and into his arms. He carried him back into the bedroom, deposited him on the rumpled sheets. Timmy pulled him down and attacked his mouth, his hands everywhere. Armie pushed his knee between Timmy's thighs, happy to give him something to grind against while his soft, desperate noises filled the room.
When he couldn't take it any more, Tim rolled away and onto his stomach, hips raised off the bed, arms stretched out in front of him.
Armie knelt behind him, stroked the length of his back, squeezed his ass cheeks, “Look at you.”
“Fuck me,” Timmy whined, rocking his hips and pushing back into Armie's hands.
“Soon, baby. I promise.” He grabbed the lube with one hand and spread Timmy's cheeks with the other.
Tim gasped at the first drizzle of cool gel. Armie spread it around with a single fingertip, chasing up the excess that dripped down to his balls. He dragged his finger back up and over Tim's hole, circling, carefully pushing inside.
“Fuuuuck, Armie!” Timmy grasped fistfuls of the sheets, “I need you.”
“Yeah?” Armie teased. God, he was loving this. His finger slid in and out easily so he added a second.
“Mmmf yeah, that's it,” Timmy buried his face in the pillow, his voice small. “Fill me up.”
“Is that what you like?”
“You like my big cock, hmm? Like it when I stretch you out?”
“Fuck!” Timmy trembled all over. Sweaty hair clung to his nape as goosebumps prickled on his shoulders. He was an absolute mess.
Armie couldn't get the condom on fast enough. He held Timmy's hips as he sunk inside him, groaning at the way Tim pushed back, impaling himself. He set up a slow rhythm, closing his eyes when sensation overwhelmed him, Timmy's moans and whimpers ramping his desire up to fever pitch.
“That's it,” he drove in particularly hard, “take it. Fucking take it. Take my cock, baby boy. All yours. Fuck!”
Timmy raised himself up on his forearms, let his head hang down. “I'm gonna come,” panting, blissed out. Neither of them had even touched his dick.
Armie fucked him harder until he felt his muscles tense. Timmy sobbed through his orgasm, clenching around Armie's cock as thick spurts soaked the sheets. Armie kissed his back. He started to pull out, but Timmy's hand on his hip stopped him.
Armie stilled. Timmy sighed, wriggled his hips. “You didn't come.”
A beat, and then, “Keep going.”
“Fuck me,” Timmy arched his back, fucking himself on Armie's cock, “make me come again.”
Armie grunted as he came against the glass door of the shower. He milked out the last few drops and flicked water at the mess, washing it down the drain. The day had barely even started and already he was struggling. He stepped onto the bath mat, grabbed a warm towel off the rail.
I can wait two weeks.
He sighed heavily. What was he doing? It was the same as in New York. Something about Tim just made his brain switch off. Made him follow a teenager into a dark alley, or take a co-star home no questions asked. Last night he had been entirely ready to cheat on his pregnant wife. Again. What the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn't that guy, was he?
He remembered how, months after it had happened, he'd confided in Nick after one two many in a dingy bar downtown.
“Armie, man, you've gotta tell her.”
“It was a one time thing. A blip. It'd kill her, Nick. I can't.”
“Yeah, but this is 'a blip' you're still thinking about six months on, and I can't believe you kept his”
“It's fine,” Armie cut him off angrily. “She'll never know where it came from.”
He left Liz eating breakfast and walked slowly to the villa. The air was already humid, the sky dark, threatening rain. Timmy was waiting in the sitting room, curled up at one end of the sofa with his legs under him, script in hand.
“Hi,” he looked up as Armie entered, smiling. “I think we get to kiss again today.”
“Oh goody,” Armie flopped into a chair opposite, pushed his still damp hair off his forehead.
“What's up your ass?” Timmy smirked as he went back to reading his script.
His nostrils flared at Armie's tone, but he didn't look up.
“So, about this 'mock wrestling position...'”
Armie cast his eyes to the heavens, certain he must've been a real fucking bastard in a previous life. They'd spent the whole morning poring over the midnight love scene; how they were going to film it, how it should look, what their characters should be feeling, all of it. Now Timmy was going over every line in excruciating detail.
“Well, you'd have your legs up to your shoulders, maybe over his arms?” Luca frowned, thoughtful as if picturing it.
“But, surely that's not the best way to do it. I mean, wouldn't it be easier from behind?”
His innocent tone made Armie want to throttle him.
“Perhaps, though, not as intimate.”
“Oh, I think it could be extremely intimate.”
He spoke as if addressing his high school debate team. Armie wanted to crawl out of his own skin, unable to sit still, agitation making his leg bounce.
“I mean,” Timmy carried on, “having someone surrounding you, holding you? I think that's really romantic.”
“But Oliver wouldn't be able to see his face.”
“Maybe Elio could get on top.”
Oxygen. He needed oxygen. And nicotine. “Guys? I'm gonna take a break, OK?”
“Yes, yes, fine,” Luca waved him away.
When he came back, they were debating whether Oliver would know to use lube.
He cornered Timmy on the way to lunch, dragged him into the orchard and backed him up against the nearest tree. The kiss was hot and forceful. Armie bit his lower lip.
“Maybe Elio could get on top,” he parroted in mocking, high pitched voice. “You little shit.”
Timmy laughed, pulled him down for more bitey kisses. “Reliving fond memories?”
Armie didn't reply. He squeezed Timmy through his shorts, finding him hard already.
Timmy eagerly complied, shoving his shorts and underwear to mid thigh, leaning back against the tree for support. Armie fell to his knees in front of him. He nuzzled at the crease where leg met groin before moving his lips up the length of Timmy's shaft, kissing and licking as he went. Timmy's hands tangled in his hair when he finally took the head into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck, thank you. Thank you,” he whispered as he closed his eyes, rolling his hips into Armie's face.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Armie felt the first wet drops of rain on his face.
Timmy's breath was foggy as he panted and moaned. “Armie, I'm gonna...”
Armie pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
He pulled Timmy's underwear up over his straining cock, fastened his shorts awkwardly back in place. Giving his crotch a condescending pat, he stood up, flashed Timmy one of his big, toothy grins, and walked away.
Rainfall and muttered expletives followed him back to the house.
He lay awake in bed that night, worried he'd gone too far. He tried to tell himself that Timmy deserved it for winding him up, but he'd been sulky and subdued all afternoon and Armie felt shitty.
He picked his phone up off the bedside table, turning the backlight down so it didn't wake Liz. He was just about to fire off an apology text when his phone buzzed with an incoming message.
I love it when you take control. Will you do that when you fuck me? I won't come until you say so.
Armie shoved the phone under his pillow. It vibrated again moments later.
12 more days :)
Thank you to everyone who is reading & commenting :) I really appreciate it, as always.
It's probably overkill to put this on every chapter, but Tim is 17 in the flashbacks, and, of course, this is completely made up fantasy.
Those texts were the first of many. Armie deleted all of them without responding, but Timmy's teasing words kept playing over and over in his head. It was worse once filming started.
How does your dick even fit in those shorts?
Unbutton your shirt more.
Do you remember what my head looked like between your thighs?
Armiiieeeee. Talk to me!!!
Armie clenched his jaw. Timmy was literally sitting across from him, legs crossed at the ankles, smiling at his phone like butter wouldn't melt in his sexy little mouth. He didn't know how much longer he could take this. His dick was getting sore from increasingly vigorous shower wanks and Liz was suspicious.
He declined Luca's dinner invitation, much to Timmy's chagrin, and headed home early. Beer and TV with subtitles. Just what the doctor ordered. He changed into sweatpants and a t shirt and headed into the kitchen. Liz was out with some friends she'd made so he fixed himself a sandwich. Mountains of cured meat on ciabatta. Heaven. No sooner had he flopped down on the couch than his phone pinged with an incoming message.
It's boring without you here.
Armie sighed, locked his phone and flipped through a few channels.
Are you thinking about me, too?
He pressed the 'off' button so hard it imprinted into his thumb. One night. He could have one night to himself, couldn't he? Feeling vaguely guilty, he settled in to watch a nature documentary, sandwich in hand.
He must've fallen asleep at some point because it was after eleven when Liz barged angrily into the apartment.
“Productive evening?” Hands on hips, eyebrows raised.
Armie blinked, wiped drool from round his mouth. “What?”
“You were supposed to meet me, remember? So I didn't have to walk home alone?”
“Oh shit. I crashed, I'm so tired.”
“Yeah. Me too,” she said pointedly, hand on her stomach.
Armie cringed. “I really am sorry,” then, lighter, “did you have fun?”
“Yes, actually,” she sat down next to him, “apart from waiting around for you and looking like a complete idiot.”
Armie gave her his best kicked puppy expression. She sighed, shaking her head. “Don't turn your phone off again,” her tone was softer now, more forgiving.
“I won't. I'm sorry.”
He turned it back on when she was in the bathroom. 5 missed calls from her, but no more messages from Tim. He breathed out slowly, releasing some of the tension that had been gathering all day. This was good. This was working.
It was a picture message. Armie opened it without thinking.
Timmy. In very tight red underwear. Hard. Precome leaving a wet patch.
Wanna help me finish?
“Sweetie?! I'm gonna go for a run, OK?”
3 Years Earlier
“I'm sorry,” Armie murmured, realising he was probably crushing the skinny creature beneath him. He rolled over to sprawl on his back.
Timmy huffed a worn out laugh, “It's fine,” he manoeuvred himself out of the wet spot. His hand found Armie's hand, a barely there brush of fingertips.
Armie smiled at the ceiling, still riding the high. “I can't believe I came again.”
“I can't believe I came again. That's three.”
Armie's smile was bordering on smug, “And counting.”
“Whaaaat?” Timmy flopped onto his tummy, face in the pillow.
Armie laughed, poked him just under the ribs. Timmy yelped, curling up like a croissant to fend off further attacks.
“Are you ticklish?”
“...No,” muffled by the pillow.
“You are! Oh man,” Armie didn't need any more encouragement. His showed no mercy as he went straight for Timmy's armpits, his sides, the backs of his knees. Armie was too quick for him. Every time Timmy defended one area, Armie started on another one. Timmy was a giggling, writhing mess in no time.
“Stop stop stop stop!” He lunged at Armie, pinning his arms to the bed and climbing on top of him. They stared at each other, flushed and out of breath. Timmy raised an eyebrow, “Are you gonna be good now?”
It was too much. Armie pulled him down for a kiss, licking into his mouth. A few of Timmy's longer curls had fallen into his eyes. Armie tucked them away, stroked his earlobe, the side of his face. Timmy lay on his chest, knees bent either side of his hips, head resting on his shoulder. He hardly weighed anything. Armie held him close. He was about to drift off when Timmy squirmed. He arched his back as he pushed himself up.
Liz towelled off her hair as she came out of the bathroom. “It's nearly midnight.”
Armie bounced from foot to foot, pulled his leg up behind him in a quick stretch, tried to make it look convincing. “I know, but I had a nap before and I'm not tired any more.”
“Are you five?!”
“I won't be long, I just need to burn off some of this energy. And I ate a big sandwich for dinner,” he shrugged.
“Fine, go,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Just don't wake me.”
He jogged over to Timmy's place, his anger building with every step. He's crossed the line this time. Too used to getting his own way. Ten days. That's nothing. Fucking brat. Armie took the stairs two at a time, knocked on Timmy's door with unnecessary force. Timmy answered straight away, dishevelled and wearing different boxers from the ones in the picture.
“Sorry man. I finished without you. I figured you'd just ignore me like before.”
Armie grabbed him by the front of his shirt, kicked the door shut and slammed him up against the wall. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” He growled, his erection pressing into Timmy's stomach.
“Fuck yeah,” Timmy pulled him closer by the hips, “I like this. Are we gonna do it against the wall?”
“We're not doing it anywhere. Not tonight.”
Timmy frowned, “Then why did you come over?”
“To tell you to back off. I'm gonna give you everything you want in a few days. Stop torturing me!”
“You know damn well what you're doing,” Armie's hands were shaking. “All those messages, taunting me in front of Luca, sending me pictures of your dick? For fuck's sake, you're gonna get me caught.”
Timmy had never looked so smug. Armie wanted to slap him. “And there it is.”
“There what is?”
“The real reason why you're making me wait. You don't care that you're cheating on her. You care if you get caught.”
“Not really,” Timmy shook his head, the smirk now a permanent fixture. “It's still cheating whether she's across the street or hundreds of miles away.”
Armie felt utterly, utterly defeated. His dick throbbed. He let go of Timmy's shirt. “You said you could wait.” God, he was pathetic.
Timmy rolled his eyes. “I'm just having a little fun,” his hand slid between them, cupped Armie through his sweatpants. “Lighten up.”
Armie's eyelids fluttered closed. He leaned into the touch, hardening further. Timmy found the head of his cock and rubbed in small circles, making Armie sigh as he braced his arm against the wall.
“That feel good?” Timmy's voice was low. He was getting worked up again already.
“Want me to suck it?”
“That's what I was thinking about, when I took the picture. Sucking on your fat cock while I jacked myself off.”
“Tim,” his voice was barely more than a whisper, “please.”
“Please what, baby?”
“Just...Stop.” He said it with conviction he didn't feel. He hated being an actor.
Timmy's hand stilled. “Stop?” Confused and angry. Embarrassed and hurt.
Armie opened his eyes. Timmy moved his hand away.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come over here. She thinks I've gone for run, I can't.”
Timmy swallowed and backed away, hand curled under his chin. “It's fine.”
“I'm gonna...I think I should go. You're OK, right?”
Timmy shrugged, walked off without saying anything. His bedroom door slammed before Armie reached the hallway.
For the next week, Tim spoke only to Oliver. Armie was in Hell. Jealous of his character and his past self, twisted and irritable. It didn't help that their spat coincided perfectly with Oliver giving Elio the cold shoulder. It was so hard to play the disinterested cad when all he wanted to do was grovel at Timmy's feet, apologise for rejecting him, maybe give him a quick blowjob to show he meant it. He drank wine in the evenings until Liz told him off, and then he ate second helpings of everything instead.
“Skipping is a good way to keep the weight off,” Luca mused one morning. Timmy nodded in agreement, as if he'd ever had to worry about that in his life. Armie stabbed at his fourth pancake, thoroughly mortified. He bought a rope that afternoon, jacked off to thoughts of tying Timmy up with it.
The worst blow came when Tim organised a night out 'for the younger ones.' Armie lay in bed imagining him in all sorts of distressing scenarios, from having his drink spiked to fucking some mega hung Italian guy in the bathroom. He felt sick to his stomach. He'd been doing the wrong thing since his arrival, and just when he tried to be sensible, to be the fucking grown up he so desperately needed to be, he was punished like this. Was it even worth it any more? Was Tim worth it?
He got the text on Friday night.
“Thank you. For meeting me.”
The gates to the villa were never locked. Armie had climbed through the shrubbery to get to their pool, the little stone one the set designers had built for them. He dipped his foot in and out of the water, watched the moonlight dance in the ripples it caused, “Alright.”
Timmy kicked off his shoes and sat down next to him, took a deep breath, psyching himself up. “I wanted to apologise for how I've been acting.”
Timmy held up a hand to stop him. “I don't blame you for being mad at me. I deserve it, but can I just say something?”
Armie looked at him for the first time that evening. His eyes were huge in the darkness. Vulnerable. Cocky Tim was gone and Elio had joined him by the pool.
“When I found out you got the part, I thought one of two things would happen. Either you would've forgotten all about me, or you'd pretend like we never met. I didn't expect,” he cleared his throat, “I didn't expect you to flirt with me, or to take me home when we hadn't seen each other for three years.”
Armie looked back at the water, shame heating his cheeks. “I'm sorry.”
Timmy sighed, clearly frustrated. “No. That's not the point I'm trying to make. When you asked me if I remembered our night together, I was so happy, Armie. I was happy because it was the best night of my life, and you were acknowledging it.”
Armie scraped his fingertips against the pool wall. The stone was rough. It left sand under his nails.
“You don't have to say it meant the same to you.” Tim's voice was quiet, unsure.
Armie sighed. “It did. More, probably.”
Timmy mulled that one over for a moment, “You're so different now.” He said it with a kind of longing that made Armie's stomach ache.
“A lot's changed. I have a daughter. I'm about to have a son, and career wise?” He snorted, “my big break was a total flop. I'm lucky anyone's hired me since.”
“Fuck off,” Timmy splashed him, soaking the rolled up leg of his jeans. “I haven't even had my 'big break' yet,” he leaned back on his hands, “I love this movie, but I doubt this'll be it.”
“You're twenty!” Armie shook his head in disbelief. “Christ, enjoy the ride for awhile.”
“Yeah, I know. Hey,” he squeezed Armie's shoulder, “I didn't know she was having a boy. Congrats.”
“Thanks. I'm terrified.”
“Wasn't she pregnant las...” he trailed off, “before?”
“So why are things different now? I'm not being an ass, for once. I'm genuinely curious.”
Armie pulled his jeans up higher, sunk more of his legs into the cool water. “The thing you need to understand is, I was a stupid kid for the first two years of my marriage. That includes what happened with you,” he caught Timmy's look, “I'm sorry. I'm not saying I regret sleeping with you, but I do feel guilty. It's complicated.”
“Is that why you got so intense about the messages? I thought we were having fun. It hurt when you”
Armie cut him off. “Sending me pictures of your dick isn't harmless banter, Tim.”
Timmy cringed, “Yeah. I know. I'm sorry.”
“And what you said about me getting caught? That I didn't care about Liz? I was so angry with you for saying that.”
“I know you love her, Armie.”
Armie nodded, staring out across the orchard, his mouth a tight line.
“But that's not the whole story, is it?”
“No,” his jaw clenched, “no, it's not.”
“You have these...Feelings. It's like an itch that she can't scratch. It doesn't mean you've failed and it doesn't mean you love her any less, but,” Armie could hear his smirk, “we're not made for one instrument alone.”
Armie smiled at him over his shoulder. “The night we met, you called me a closet case.”
“What a dick.”
“I thought so.”
“Then I saw yours, and I thought so too.”
Armie nudged him with his shoulder. “Lame.”
“That was unbelievably clever, actually.”
Timmy splashed his foot in the water again, “But no, seriously, do you still want this to happen? Cos it doesn't have to.”
Armie was quiet for a long time. He held his hands in his lap. “It's so hard to explain how I feel.”
“No, I have to.”
“Why? Why can't we just enjoy ourselves? It's not like we're in love with each other. We know this has an expiration date.”
Armie chewed his bottom lip. “I'd be having an affair. I've had an affair with you already.”
Timmy rolled his eyes. “I'm not asking you to run away with me.”
“Fuck, Tim? You can't just give me permission to do this. You can't make it sound so simple.”
Timmy rested his hand gently on Armie's bare knee, the warmth of his palm comforting and heavy. “Aren't you tired?”
Their eyes met. “Tired?”
“All the time you spend hating yourself. Isn't it exhausting?”
Armie felt his breath leave him in a whoosh. His throat felt raw and scratchy, like he was on the verge of tears. He swallowed, looked down at Timmy's hand on his leg. “Four weeks is fuck all.”
“Even in Heaven?”
“Especially in Heaven.”
“Shall I say something really cheesy about making each moment count?”
Armie laughed, “Yeah, followed by a montage of us making out in the – Oh!”
Timmy pressed their lips together, insistent and a little aggressive. Armie kissed him back, smiling as he relaxed into it. His hand found its way up the back of Tim's shirt, traced each little bump of his spine. Timmy broke the kiss and knelt up, swung one leg over Armie's thighs to settle in his lap. Armie pulled him closer, pushed his tongue into his mouth. It still felt like there was too much space between them. He titled his hips and Timmy slid down onto his groin, both of them moaning at the contact.
“Is this what you mean?” Armie smiled against his lips, his fingers buried in Tim's hair.
“More or less,” naughty smile, “it'd be better if we were naked, though.” He blushed, “I loved being naked with you.”
It was a simple statement, but it lit a fire inside him. Armie looked over Tim's shoulder, trying to sound nonchalant. “Pool's right here.”
Timmy's eyes lit up. He clambered off Armie's lap, almost falling in the water in his haste. Armie laughed as he stood up too, pulled his shirt over his head.
He gasped as the water reached his nipples. “It's freezing!”
Timmy slid in next to him, pressed their bodies together, pressed Armie against the side. They were both hard despite the undesirable temperature. Armie wrapped Tim's legs around his waist, angled his cock so that it bumped and rubbed Timmy's ass, nudging between his cheeks. Timmy moaned into Armie's mouth, kissing him the whole time. Armie found Tim's entrance and rubbed in gentle circles. He managed to get the tip of his cock inside before Timmy's fingernails were digging into his shoulder, his head shaking frantically.
Armie automatically withdrew. “You OK? Did it hurt? I thought, cos of the water that...”
“No, it's not that,” Timmy was a little breathless, “I want to wait.”
Armie's head lolled back as he made a noise that was half laugh, half frustrated groan. “You're unreal.”
“She flies home tomorrow. That's one more day! We've already gone thirteen. Can you imagine how much better it will be if we wait 'till we're alone? We can fuck all night and then sleep together in your bed,” Armie raised an eyebrow, “or mine. Whatever. But we can be alone. If we do it now you'll have to rush back and I don't...” he swallowed, but didn't finish speaking.
“OK,” Armie soothed, “OK. Her flight leaves in the afternoon. I should be back by three.”
“Do you think she'd mind if I came to the airport with you guys?”
Armie scratched the back of his neck, his erection finally dying down.
“You know what? That's dumb. Forget I said that.”
“I know, but,”
“I could pick you up after? We could go for a drive somewhere.”
He laughed as Timmy flung his arms around his neck.
I think I got a bit carried away here...
As always, thank you for reading. I'm amazed by the response to this story xx
P.S Thank you ShesGoneRogue for letting me borrow the olive oil. If you don't get that reference, go and read Dailies. It changed me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
They'd already said their goodbyes in the car, neither of them keen to make a scene in the middle of a packed departure lounge. She stood in front of him now, patent heels tapping as she fiddled with the tag on her carry on.
“I think I should stay longer.”
“No. I mean, of course I want you to, but Hops misses you. And the little man will be too big to fly soon.”
“I know, I just,” she didn't want to meet his gaze, “I'm worried about you. You seem distant. Like something's bothering you, but you won't talk about it. You were the same when you came back from New York. You wouldn't,” she lowered her voice, “touch me. For months.”
“We had a baby,” Armie felt sweat bead on the back of his neck, “everything was crazy.”
“Yeah, but you were off in your head somewhere. And you're doing the same thing now.”
Armie took her hands in his, lifted them up to his face. “This movie is intense. I feel like I'm two people right now.”
She nodded. He kissed the back of her hand.
“I swear I'm OK. Please don't worry.”
She let out a long breath. “OK. But call me. It's bad enough I have to go a whole month without seeing you. I'm not losing your sexy voice, too.”
“I'll Face Time you. Then you can have both.”
“Ooooh. Now I'm spoilt.”
He held her close, stroked her hair. Her eyes were damp when she stepped back.
“Hey, you could invite Timmy over. Maybe you guys will finally get to play.”
“Video games? Like you were gonna do the night I arrived?”
“Oh yeah,” he recovered quickly, “I'd forgotten about that.”
Timmy was waiting by the side of the road, hair ruffled by the breeze, denim shorts riding low on his hips. Chunky Ray Bans hid his eyes from the late afternoon sun. He smiled when he saw Armie's car.
“Hi,” Armie opened the window.
“Hey,” Timmy glanced down the street and then leaned in to kiss him, smiling against his lips.
Armie wanted to drag him inside by his shirt collar, but he settled for unlocking the door instead. Timmy sidled round to the passenger side, fingers dancing on the bonnet as he passed.
He settled himself beside Armie, pulled the seatbelt around his skinny frame. “So.”
Armie looked away as he laughed nervously. He felt Tim's hand on his thigh, warm and comforting, thumb stroking his inseam in idle circles. He left it there until they were out of town. The fewer cars they saw, the higher up his hand ventured. Neither of them spoke.
Armie clenched his jaw, tried to focus on the road instead of Tim's clever fingers. He was hard in no time, straining against his fly. Timmy reached higher, popping open the button and dragging the zip down. Armie's cock all but leapt into his hand, so eager to be out after the confines of his clothing.
Timmy licked his lips. “Pull over.”
Armie drove them slightly into a field and then stopped. He really hoped no one could see them from the road because the flimsy rental wasn't going much further. Timmy managed to get in the back seat without leaving the car, whooping triumphantly as he landed in a tangled heap of limbs, sunglasses on the parcel shelf. Armie huffed as he got out and walked.
They made out for awhile, Tim kneeling on the seat, Armie at an angle to fit his legs inside. Timmy licked his lower lip, sank his teeth in just enough to smart.
“Wanna taste you,” he started pulling his underwear down.
Armie lifted his hips to help, his dick bumping Timmy's chin. Tim held him by the base, lapped at his slit until he grunted in frustration.
Timmy pulled off, pupils blown wide. “Tell me.”
Armie groaned, spread his legs as much as he could in the small car. “Suck it. Tease my cock with that hot little mouth,” he swiped his thumb over Tim's lower lip, “swallow when I come. All of it.”
Timmy's mouth was heavenly. His soft pink lips stretched around Armie's shaft, eyes closed, cheeks hollowing out. He's had practice. The thought wandered in, unbidden. He pushed Timmy's head down a bit, expecting him to gag, but Timmy just moaned, his fist sliding up and down where his mouth couldn't reach. Armie's dick throbbed. He wondered where else that mouth had been and just like that he was coming. He didn't even have time to warn Tim before he was shooting down his throat. He got most of it, but pulled away before Armie was done, the final shot landing on his cheek. Armie licked it off in one long stripe and sat back, proud and sated, revelling in the look on Timmy's face. Timmy crushed their mouths together, stroking Armie's tongue with his own to get every last drop. He shoved his shorts down and jacked himself off, so fast and hard it had to hurt. Armie just managed to lift his shirt up before Timmy was coming all over his chest, his face screwed up in pleasure, his breathing erratic.
They cleaned up with some face wipes Liz had stashed in the seat pocket. Armie tried not to feel bad about it.
He took his time driving back, avoiding the busier roads so that they could see more of the countryside. Armie thought Timmy was asleep until he sat up suddenly, his feet slipping off the dashboard, “Let's go to the villa.”
Armie laughed, but a quick glance told him Tim was deadly serious. “No,” he changed gears, slowing down for a turn, “nu uh. No way. Someone will see us.”
“Why not?” Timmy pouted, crossing his arms across his chest, “You didn't care last night.”
Armie opened his mouth, thought for a moment, closed it again. “Wouldn't you rather be in a bed?” He asked lamely, feeling the weight of Tim's eye-roll.
“There are beds at the villa. Beds that can be pushed together, if the situation calls for it.”
Armie was slow to catch on, but once he realised, he couldn't contain his glee. “You wanna fuck Oliver, don't you?”
“No!” Timmy was too quick to reply, his cheeks turning pink beneath his sunglasses.
“You do! You want the whole goddamn Elio Experience! Shall I buy us a few peaches to try out? I mean, should I be insulted? He is basically me.”
“Forget it,” Timmy turned away from him, shrinking down in his seat.
Armie reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey? I'm sorry. I'll stop.”
“It's not like that.”
“I just have this fantasy about...”
“Yeah?” Armie encouraged him gently, his voice soft.
“I want to fuck in Elio's bed. I wanna surround myself with him, and you, and Oliver. Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this,” he tugged at the front of his shorts, obviously more than a little uncomfortable.
Armie shifted in his seat. His cock was still sticky from Tim's mouth. “Let's go get dinner somewhere, then we'll check out the situation, OK?”
Dinner ended up being arancini in the car, because they couldn't agree on a restaurant. Timmy licked grease off his fingers, smiling when he caught Armie staring. “What?”
“You're very pretty.”
Timmy shook his head, “Not really.”
“Really. I bet your friends hated me when they found out we hooked up.”
Timmy's brow creased in confusion. “Huh?”
“The night we met,” Armie stashed the paper food bags under the driver's seat, “you told me you had a $50 bet with one of them.”
“Oh! That,” Timmy wiped his hands on his trousers, “Yeah...I never told them. I said I got sick in the alley.”
“You didn't tell them that we slept together?”
Timmy scoffed, “They gossiped about everything. I would never...” He trailed off, staring at his feet.
Armie felt his chest swell a little, goofy smile spreading across his face. “Thanks.”
Timmy shrugged, “They wouldn't have believed me anyway.”
They were quiet for the rest of the short drive. The sky had just started to go dark, the clouds pink and orange around the edges. Armie parked the car further down the street and they walked up together, anticipation crackling between them with every shared smile, every accidental brush of fingertips. The gate was open as usual. Timmy eased it to the side, creating a gap just big enough for them both to fit through and then closing it behind them.
They crept quietly through the hallway and up to Elio's bedroom, checking for crew. Everyone was supposed to be off today, but some were dedicated to a fault. Luckily the house was deserted. Timmy flung himself at Armie as soon as they were through the doorway, his kisses bitey, his hands insistent. He had Armie's pants round his ankles in seconds, his own shirt flying across the room.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Armie stroked his hair, slowed their kisses down to a more leisurely speed.
Timmy whined, brought Armie's hand to his hard cock.
“I know, I know. Want me to help you out?”
Timmy nodded, hugging Armie close. Armie rubbed his back, kept a firm pressure on his dick with the heel of his hand. He unbuttoned Tim's shorts and tugged them down. His boxers were wet at the front. Armie's mouth watered.
“We should put something on the bed,” he said after a moment. “Stains.”
Timmy looked round for something they could use. “What about the robes? They brought them up ready for next week.”
Luckily they were in the first box Armie looked in. He spread one across the bed, surveyed his work with his hands on his hips.
Timmy frowned, “Doesn't give us much room.”
“Don't need much,” Armie kissed him, hand on the nape of his neck.
They spooned up, Timmy's head back, throat exposed so that he could reach Armie's mouth. Armie reached around to tug on his dick, firm and slow, making him leak continuously.
“Up,” he patted Tim's ass minutes later.
Tim scooted up the bed, laughing a bit, unsure what Armie meant.
He ended up at a right angle, his torso across the pillows, legs down, ass in Armie's face. Armie held him open, ghosted his tongue across his hole with a feather-light touch.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck yes. Yes please. Thank you,” Timmy babbled, biting the pillow when Armie licked into him more firmly.
“Who have you been with since me?”
“Wha?” Timmy moaned at the loss of Armie's mouth.
“How many boys have you had? I want you to tell me.”
Timmy's hand curled round his cock, holding himself as he caught his breath. “Three.”
“Tell me about them,” Armie licked him again, pushed his fingertip inside.
Timmy groaned, “I was with one for a year. We met at school. He played soccer.”
“Did you make out in the locker room?”
“Did you suck his dick?”
“Did he fuck you?”
“Did you like it?”
Armie went back to work, pushing his tongue deeper.
Timmy could barely get his words out. “The other two were hookups. One was far too old for me. We did it in the bathroom at a club. Fuck yes!”
Armie's tongue found his perineum, rewarding his honesty with sucks and nips.
“No one's done this for you though, have they?”
Timmy shook his head, curls thrashing, “Only you.”
Armie let him go with a final swipe over his entrance. Timmy rolled over straight into his arms, sweating, trembling all over. He pushed his tongue into Armie's mouth, undaunted by the taste, blissed out and horny beyond reason. He played with Armie's cock, flicked his nipple, leaned forward to take it between his teeth.
“Why did you ask me?” He bit down, making Armie gasp.
“Because I wanted to know.”
“Because picturing you with other boys is hot as fuck,” Armie admitted, closing his eyes as Timmy's mouth found his chest once again.
Timmy raised his head with a smirk. “Kinky.”
Armie hummed in response.
“What else do you like?”
Armie gathered him up, felt his heart beating against his own. “Not tonight. Tonight I just want this. I just want to be inside you.”
“Did you bring?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I brought them.”
Timmy got onto his hands and knees while Armie rummaged in his pockets. The first condom snapped over his dick.
“Fuck's sake!” He growled, ripping open another one with his teeth. The lube got everywhere as well. By the time Armie pushed inside, his relief was palpable.
Timmy yelped as the head pushed past his first tight ring of muscle. He lowered his forehead to the bed, breathing hard.
Armie stilled as he stroked his back. “OK?”
“Yeah, just give me a minute.”
“So fucking tight.” Gentle pull out, more lube. Armie took his time, turning Tim's pained grunts into sighs and moans of pleasure, getting louder when Armie upped the pace. He reached underneath for his dick, whinged when Armie batted his hand away.
“Armie!?” out of breath and overstimulated, tears welling up in his eyes.
Armie pulled out, groaned at the rush of cool air. “Elio,” he murmured, lips brushing Tim's ear, “get on your back.”
Timmy complied instantly. He held his knees up to his chest, mouth open, cheeks flushed, expectant. Armie lay on top of him, propped himself on his elbows so that he could kiss Tim's mouth as he entered him again. Timmy clung to his shoulders, closing his eyes as he lost himself in the push and pull of their bodies.
He chanted 'Oliver' over and over, but it was Armie's name he shouted when he came.
They used the light from their phones to find their clothes in the dark, giggling, kissing when they bumped into each other. Armie laced their fingers together as they walked down the path, balled up robe under his arm.
Timmy pulled the gate, but nothing happened. “The fuck?”
A bike lock had been threaded between the two sections. Armie's face fell.
“Someone's been here.”
“Shit,” Timmy looked panicked, “do you think they saw us?”
“No, it was dark,” Armie tried to be reassuring, but his voice was strained. “Is there another way out?”
Timmy stood back, stared up at the gate. “We'll have to climb.”
Armie woke up with a headache. He reached for Tim and frowned as his hand flopped onto the empty mattress. He rolled onto his back, grimacing as he opened his eyes. Everything hurt. He was too old to be scaling the perimeter. A small part of him couldn't actually believe what they'd done. If they had been caught...Armie's stomach dropped. He didn't want to think about it.
Delicious smells wafted in from the kitchen, tempting him into a sitting position and eventually off the bed. Timmy stood by the hob in his underwear, curls bobbing enthusiastically as he chopped veggies and threw them into a pan. Armie waited a moment against the wall, just enjoying the sight in front of him, feeling his cock getting thicker and heavier. Tim counted off on his fingers, muttering something under his breath before reaching for the eggs.
Armie walked up behind him, “Hi,” he hooked his fingers under the waistband of Tim's boxers, used the elastic to gently pull him flush against his front.
“Mmmm, hello,” Tim turned to kiss his cheek, “I'm making omelettes.”
“Smells amazing,” Armie nuzzled his neck. He stroked Tim's chest and belly, and then lower, teasing, “the food, too.”
Tim sighed, pushing his hardening cock into Armie's palm. “Exactly. I don't wanna burn anything,”
Armie reached over and tuned the gas down. He squeezed Tim's ass with both hands.
“Fuck,” Timmy slowly rocked his hips back and forth.
Armie pulled his underwear down, circled his hole with spit slick fingers. Timmy gasped, falling forward until Armie held him steady.
“Yeah,” deep breath, “just sensitive.”
“Hmmm,” Armie kissed his hair, “You like that though, don't you? Fucking when it still kinda hurts.”
Timmy blushed and bit his lip, his silence admittance in itself. Armie smiled as he reached for the olive oil. He poured a drop into the dimples at the base of Tim's spine, traced its path until he was smearing it around his entrance, pushing first one and then three fingers into that snug heat. Tim didn't need much preparation, already panting and begging for Armie's cock. Armie rubbed the head up and down a few times before he pushed in, adding his own slick to Tim's open, waiting hole.
He watched himself slide in and out, impossibly thick between tiny cheeks, keeping a firm grip on Tim's hip while he braced his other hand against the worktop. Timmy pushed back into every thrust, whimpering as Armie's cock hit his prostate again and again, precome smearing the kitchen cabinet. Armie held him close with a hand splayed across his stomach. He nuzzled his neck, nipped his earlobe, his cock finding every ridge and bump with no latex to dull the sensation.
“So good like this.”
Timmy just nodded and moaned in response. His eyes were closed, mouth open as he tilted his head back to rest on Armie's shoulder. Armie cupped his balls, testing their weight on his palm.
“You feel so full again.”
More nodding. More whimpering.
Armie sped up, his hand moving to Tim's cock so that he could work him in time with his movements. “I can't last, baby. Do you want me to pull out?”
Timmy made a pained noise, shaking his head frantically. “Wanna feel it.”
Armie smiled around a groan. He worked Timmy's cock faster, fucked him harder.
Timmy cried out as he came, thick spurts hitting the worktop, the floor, his leg. Armie held still as his own release overtook him, edged on by Timmy's clenching muscles.
Onions and peppers sizzled on the stove.
I think it's safe to say that they're a bit wrapped up in each other. I hope it doesn't make them careless...
A/N: The flashbacks will return, I just didn't think they were necessary in this chapter of the last one :)
I'm sorry I haven't updated this in over a month. A lot has happened (good and bad). Thank you to anyone who's still interested <3
The flashbacks have returned and Tim is still 17. You know the drill.
3 Years Earlier
Armie half laughed, half groaned as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Have mercy.”
“Come on,” Timmy swayed, grazing the underside of his cock against the soft fuzz on Armie’s belly. “I have to go soon.”
“You need to shower before you go anywhere.”
Timmy stuck his lower lip out in an adorable pout. “Pleeeease.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Armie ran his hands up Timmy’s thighs, “I just don’t think I can .”
Timmy was full on sulking now, not even making eye contact. Armie took hold of his cock, gently moving his fist up and down.
“Stop being a brat and I’ll suck you off.”
Timmy’s eyes shot up immediately, “OK!”
His enthusiasm made Armie chuckle. He encouraged Timmy to shuffle further up on his knees, stuffed another pillow behind his head for leverage. When they were both comfortable, he gazed up at Tim with wide, open eyes, nodded to him to continue.
Timmy took hold of his cock, carefully guided it to Armie’s waiting mouth. He sighed when Armie’s tongue flicked out to tease him, moaned when he was finally inside. He rested his forearms on the wall with his head between them, staring down, watching everything.
Armie put on a bit of a show for him, bobbing his head, eyes closed in concentration. He pulled Timmy closer by his ass.
“Oh that’s it,” Timmy whispered above him, “fucking take it. Suck my dick, baby. Your mouth was made for this.”
Armie pulled off, raised an eyebrow quizzically, “Tim?”
Ragged breathing, “Yeah?”
“Do you watch a lot of porn?”
Timmy’s face turned bright red. He sat back on Armie’s legs, covering his dick with his cupped hand.
“Hey, hey, it’s OK. It’s just...I thought about it before and there’s no other way you would talk like that, given...Everything.”
Timmy squirmed in his lap, discomfort evident as he scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“You didn’t offend me,” Armie took his hand, placed little kisses on his knuckles, “but like, you don’t have to talk like that. If you don’t want to.”
“I kinda want to,” Timmy admitted, eyes lowered to the duvet, cheeks burning.
Armie took hold of his dick again, worked it through his tight fist. “Good. I like it. So,” he dipped his thumbnail into Timmy’s slit, “what’re you into? What gets you all wet and sticky?”
“Oh shit,” Timmy moved forward, his cock millimeters from Armie’s face, “don’t ask me that.”
“Why?” Armie’s tongue swirled out for another taste, “Think I’ll be shocked?”
“Fuck,” Timmy braced himself against the counter as Armie pulled out. His legs were trembling, close to giving out.
Armie kissed and nuzzled his shoulder, pulled his underwear back up with a snap. “Don’t let the onions burn,” he patted his ass fondly.
“Shit, yeah,” Timmy seemed a little dazed. He cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them with a fork.
Armie cleaned his come off the cupboard door, “Hey, are you OK?”
Armie’s stomach started to churn, “Tim?”
“Can I just finish this? Please?”
“Um, yeah. OK. Sorry.”
Timmy’s words were like a bucket of ice water. Armie retreated to his bedroom, pulled clothes from the wardrobe and dressed quickly, anxious to get back, slightly embarrassed to face him. His omelette was waiting on the coffee table. He sat in one of the armchairs. Timmy perched on the edge of a sofa cushion.
Several minutes passed in silence.
“You didn’t ask.”
Armie swallowed the bite he had just taken, felt it lodge in his throat. “What?”
“We’ve never done that before,” Timmy’s voice was small. He sounded impossibly young, “Without...You should’ve asked.”
“Fuck, I...I asked if you wanted me to pull out.”
“Yeah. After you were already inside me.”
“I couldn’t help myself. You were standing there in your little yellow undies and I just...I didn’t even think about it.”
Timmy looked down at his plate.
“You said you wanted to feel it,” Armie didn’t know who he was trying to convince.
“I know what I said. I was caught up. But that was...That was fucking reckless , Armie.”
Armie snorted and Timmy scowled at him, his eyes several shades darker.
“Tim, everything we’ve done over the past twenty four hours has been fucking reckless! Blowing me in the car? Sneaking into the villa? Eating your ass in Elio’s bed?!”
Timmy huffed and sat back. He flinched when Armie tried to touch his leg.
“I’m sorry,” Armie softened his voice, “I’m clean. You don’t have to worry.”
“It’s not even about that.”
Mumbling, a quick bite to his thumbnail. “I don’t know.”
Armie sighed, barely keeping a lid on his growing frustration. “Look, I’m not a fucking mind reader, Tim. Mixed signals are for kids.”
Armie’s guts twisted painfully.
Timmy took a deep breath, hugged his knees to his chest. “It was like something you’d do with your boyfriend, and I’m not.”
Thank you, everyone, for your continued interest and support xx
This is fiction.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“I know you’re not.” He said it too fast and far too harshly, if the hurt look on Tim’s face was anything to go by. Armie stared at their empty plates, elbows resting on his thighs, fingertips touching to make a triangle. “I’m sorry that I rushed things, again , but you’re reading too much into it.”
“I need clothes,” Timmy got up from the sofa, his limbs unfurling with an angry jerk.
Armie didn’t follow him. He took their plates into the kitchen and washed them, trying to ignore the nagging anxiety growing in his chest.
Timmy appeared in the doorway, crumpled and worn out, matching his clothes from the night before. “I feel kinda...Overwhelmed, right now.”
Armie dried his hands on a dishtowel, “OK, that’s...OK.”
“I think I need to regroup,” Timmy followed a crack in the lino with the tip of his toe, “You were right; we are being reckless.”
“Sleeping with you again, it was all I could think about,” he shook his head, “It’s scary, actually. How obsessed I was. But I don’t wanna screw this up.” Timmy took a deep breath, wouldn’t meet Armie’s eye as he spoke. “I think we should just focus on the movie. Try to be friends.”
Armie felt Tim’s words like a kick to the groin. This wasn’t happening. Tim could not be dumping him after coming in his hand less than an hour ago. Armie wanted to hold him, tell him how sorry he was, how much he respected him, how he never wanted to hurt him, ever. He wanted to dig his fingernails into his arms until they left a mark, scream in his face for tempting him into betrayal. Instead he folded the towel neatly.
“If that’s what you want.”
Timmy’s shoulders slumped, “I think it’s right, y’know?”
“Hmm,” Armie pushed himself away from the counter.
“Anyway, I’m gonna go. See you on set?”
“Bright and early.”
He cringed at his own sarcasm. Neither of them said goodbye.
Timmy had tears in his eyes by the third take. “I’m just not getting it!” He whined, pacing up and down while Armie sat cross-legged on the grass.
Armie shrugged, but he shared his frustration. It was difficult, kissing Tim for the cameras less than twenty four hours after he’d put the brakes on their...Whatever the hell it had been. He had called Liz after Timmy left, told her he felt low and needed to talk. She’d been so incredibly nice that it had made him feel even worse. He had very nearly told her what was going on, but she’d put Harper on the phone before he’d had chance. He’d gone to bed more alone than ever. The sheets still smelled like Tim.
“OK. Take a break. 5 minutes. Centre yourselves.”
Armie wandered off for a smoke. Timmy followed, hands in his pockets.
Armie offered him a cigarette. “Relax.”
“How?” Timmy slipped it between his teeth, leaned in so Armie could light them both at the same time.
Armie blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “Remember the first time we fucked? When you told me what kinda porn you liked to watch?”
Timmy choked on a thick inhale, “Armie!?” He looked around, but no one had heard them, “What the fuck?”
“You told me you were into blowjobs. Really long, drawn out blowjobs that usually ended with come on someone’s face. Oh, and threeways. Boys or girls, it didn’t matter.”
“Yes,” Timmy hissed, “I remember,” he was flushed all the way to his ears. “How is that relevant?”
“What I’m saying is, it’s just me. I know things are weird between us, but I’m still the same guy you confided in, the same guy that you trusted. You don’t have to be so,” he gestured vaguely, “ careful. ”
They smoked in silence, Timmy deep in thought.
Five minutes were soon up and they settled back into position. This time, Timmy smiled against Armie’s mouth, snuggled close, and licked from his lower lip up to his top one. The kiss that followed was so gorgeous that Armie had to bite back a moan. It physically pained him to push ‘Elio’ away.
“We haven’t done anything to be ashamed of, and it’s a good thing.”
Ha! How hollow that sounded. He was surprised he could say it with a straight face. The crotch grab still made him gasp, even though he knew it was coming. His dick swelled, twitching against Timmy’s palm.
“ Eccellente! Perfetto!” Luca gushed as he clapped a hand on Timmy’s shoulder.
Armie smiled and laughed with them both, discreetly rearranging himself in his tiny shorts. Timmy caught him doing it, raised his eyebrows with a smirk, and Armie let hope bubble up inside him. Just for a moment.
He replayed the whole scene once he was alone in the shower, coming so fast and so forcefully it made his head spin. He texted Timmy goodnight before he went to bed, not expecting a reply. The new message beep made him grin like an idiot.
Timmy was filming his love scenes with Esther the next day, so Armie tried to busy himself. He biked into town and bought fresh bread, ate it by the side of the road after pedaling hard for miles. His shirt clung to his sweaty back. He sat down in the shade of a tree, took a long drink of water.
His mind wandered to Timmy and Esther, their hands and mouths on each others bodies, hair damp from the pool, the chill of the attic hardening their nipples into stiff little peaks.
His ride home was painful.
Esther was sitting on the villa steps when he got back. She smiled and waved as he jumped off his bike, leaving it to roll away and fall onto the lawn.
“Hey!” She pulled him down to sit with her, hair sweeping around her face.
Armie tugged on a particularly wild strand, “Looks like you had fun.”
Esther giggled, turning her face away and blushing prettily. Envy flared in Armie’s gut.
“Our boy is...très bon.”
Armie realised he was nodding and stopped abruptly.
Esther hadn’t noticed, “...and so professional. I feel very relaxed with him.”
Armie nudged her shoulder, his eyes sparkling playfully, “Did he get a boner?”
“Armand! No!” She laughed loudly, her hand slapping his knee. “Well, except…”
“When we were by the wall, we were joking and I asked him if he’d rather kiss me or you.”
“And it made him hard?”
She giggled again, “I suppose I have my answer.”
And so do I.
It took three whiskeys before he felt brave enough to do it. He lifted the shower hose of its hook, turned on the water and angled the spray down his stomach and legs. The tight white boxers he was wearing turned transparent almost immediately. He turned the water off and stood with his legs spread, playing with his cock through the soaked cotton. Timmy wanted this. What was the fucking point in being ‘good.’ He’d made a mistake, but he’d atone. Timmy wanted fun, and he was gonna give it to him. Turn about was fair play, after all. Timmy hadn’t backed down when he’d said no.
Armie climbed out of the shower cubicle and picked up his phone off the sink, feeling a bit silly as he got into position. It was a good picture. The angle made his cock look massive, every vein visible through his wet underwear. The tip poked out of his waistband. Beads of water glistened on his thighs. He sent the picture to Timmy before he lost his nerve, his chest tight with excitement and fear.
This is all yours, if you wanna come and get it.
He hit the send button, and waited.
If their feelings seem all over the place, it's because they are :)
Armie stared at his phone, drummed his fingers on the sink. He pulled a face as he looked down, his erection flagging under the wet cling of cold cotton. He slipped his underwear off and threw it into the laundry hamper, opted for a pair of loose fitting sweatpants instead. No shirt.
He would give Timmy an hour. That was more than enough time to read his message and drag his ass over to the apartment. If he didn’t show up, well. Armie didn’t want to consider that possibility, but he knew he wouldn’t push again. He wandered around aimlessly, occasionally giving his cock a squeeze to keep it interested. An urgent knock came around the forty five minute mark.
Timmy launched himself at Armie before he even had chance to close the door, tongue in his mouth, arms around his neck. He hitched his leg around the back of Armie’s thigh like he was trying to climb him. Armie smiled as he placed his palms on Timmy’s chest and gently pushed him away.
Timmy whined and went for his mouth again, but Armie held him at arm’s length. Adrenaline thrummed through his veins. Control was intoxicating, but he knew that Timmy could take it all back with a single word. They communicated in heated glances. He brought Timmy’s hand to his crotch. Powerful. Powerless. Timmy sank to his knees.
He pulled Armie’s sweatpants down slowly, raising an eyebrow when his cock bounced free.
“I got wet.”
“Mmmm,” Timmy blew on the end of his cock, making it jump and twitch. He caught it in his hand and stroked up and down before bringing it closer to his face. He smeared the head from one side of his mouth to the other, dragging it across his slightly parted lips.
Armie slid his hand up the nape of Tim’s neck to tug on his glossy curls. “Don’t tease me.”
Timmy opened his mouth wider, but didn’t move, challenge dancing in his eyes. Armie pushed his cock inside, guiding Timmy to take as much as he could. Timmy moaned around his mouthful, alternating sucking with swirling his tongue. Armie rocked his hips into his face, his hand still tight in his hair. He used his other hand to tilt Timmy’s chin up, fingers grazing his Adam’s apple. Timmy held onto Armie’s legs as he looked up at him through thick lashes. Armie stroked his cheek with his thumb.
Timmy closed his eyes and redoubled his efforts, cupping Armie’s balls, swallowing around his shaft. Armie fucked his face, forceful enough to show dominance, careful not to make him gag. All too soon his release was coating the back to Timmy’s throat. He shuddered as the last waves of pleasure crested over him.
Timmy gave him one long suck and pulled off, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. He stood to face Armie, kissing him on the mouth as he rubbed his own cock through his jeans. Armie moved his hand away, a leisurely smile on his face as he shook his head.
He undressed Timmy in between kisses. They lay facing each other in Armie’s bed. Armie brushed a fingertip over the end of Timmy’s cock.
“You changed your mind,” it wasn’t a question.
Timmy looked away, his hips mindlessly rolling into Armie’s touch. “I’m sorry.”
Armie hummed in response, his finger sweeping through precome as it beaded in Timmy’s slit.
“I got scared.”
Armie nuzzled Timmy’s nose with his own, “Nothing to be scared of.”
Timmy nodded, their eyes finally meeting, “I know.”
The look Timmy gave him was intense. Armie ran two fingers up and down his length. “Do you want this?”
Timmy pushed his dick more firmly against Armie’s hand. Armie curled his fingers around him, tugged lazily.
Armie kissed his neck, “I love the way you feel underneath me.”
Timmy whimpered and Armie moved on to his mouth, pulling his bottom lip ever so slightly with his teeth. He took his hand away, leaving Timmy wide eyed and panting, the mattress creaking as he tried to thrust against nothing. Armie grabbed the lube off the bedside table. Timmy turned away from him and onto his stomach, leg bent at the knee, offering himself, moaning when slippery fingers slid between his cheeks.
Armie teased him mercilessly. His touch was so light he knew Timmy could hardly feel it, knew it would make him even more sensitive and desperate. When he finally pushed the tip of his finger inside, Timmy sobbed with relief.
Armie worked him up to a fever pitch before adding a second finger. He leaned over to nuzzle Timmy’s jaw, kiss away his tears of frustration.
“Will you?” Timmy’s voice was wrecked.
“Will I what?” Armie gently pressed his prostate. Timmy shook his head. “Come on,” Armie coaxed, “I’ve missed that dirty mouth.”
Timmy was so keyed up he was shaking. His shoulders slumped as he rubbed himself against the sheets. “Will you go down on me? Eat me out or suck my cock, I don’t care. I need your fucking mouth .” The last word was growled into the pillow as Timmy shoved himself back onto Armie’s fingers.
Armie thought for a moment. Let the anticipation build and build. “No.”
“Hunh?!” Timmy whipped his head back to look at him, eyes wild.
Armie pulled his fingers out, rolled Timmy onto his back. He reached for the drawer and the box of condoms, but Timmy grabbed his wrist, nails digging in.
“No. Fuck me.”
Armie brushed his sweaty hair off his face, “Don’t do this for me.”
“I’m not,” Timmy lifted his legs up, held himself open, “Do it, before I fucking scream.”
Armie felt the last shreds of his control slip away as he fucked Timmy so hard the bed scraped across the floor. Timmy shouted through his orgasm, thick spurts pulsing hot between them. Armie pulled out at the last second, painting his balls and soaking the sheets.
They lay together, chests heaving as they caught their breath. Timmy nudged Armie’s fingers with his own. Armie pressed his knee against Timmy’s.
Eventually, Timmy sat up with a wince. “I’m all sticky.”
“Can I get a towel or something?”
Armie’s brow creased, confused, concerned, “You don’t have to ask.”
“Yeah, well,” Timmy shrugged as he hobbled over to the bathroom.
Armie lay on his back, counted the cracks in the ceiling. He heard the toilet flushing, running water, a hiss of discomfort. Timmy gingerly climbed back into bed, offering him a clean, damp flannel. He sat facing away from Armie, knees pulled up to his chest.
Armie cleaned up quickly. “Aren’t you gonna lay down? It’s late.”
Timmy turned his head, “You want me to stay?”
“Yeah,” he swallowed, “if you want to.”
“I do ,” Timmy chewed his bottom lip, “but I’m not sure that I should .”
Armie pulled the duvet back, held out his arms. Timmy hesitated and it made his throat ache. He could see the war raging in his eyes. Comfort or sanctuary. Desire or protection. Armie or himself.
Timmy sank into his embrace, sighing when Armie wrapped his arms around him.
I think this is a nice place to leave them while I work on Christmassy things :) Thank you so much for reading xxx
Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story. I'm sorry it's been so long between updates xx
The shrill ringing of his phone jolted Armie awake. Timmy slept beside him, curled up around the duvet, hugging it close. Armie smiled at the softness of him, leant over to gently kiss his cheek. The phone started ringing again. Timmy stirred, frowning, snuggling his face further into the pillows. Armie climbed out of bed, waited until he was nearly at the door before answering.
“Hi honey, it’s kinda early.”
“Hey, sorry. I always forget,” Liz sounded bright and cheery on the other end.
Armie scrubbed his hand over his face, aggravated, guilty. Guilty that he felt aggravated, “Is everything OK?”
“Oh yes, fine. All good here,” he could hear the TV in the background, “there’s this charity thing happening at the preschool and they need donations. You don’t mind if I give them some of your old stuff, right?”
“Erm,” Armie wandered over to the sofa, “I’m not sure.”
“I was thinking of that ugly green sweater. Or that brown one with the stripes.”
“I like the brown one.”
Timmy appeared in the doorway, squinting as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. His hair was a mess of fluff. He hadn’t bothered with clothes.
Liz chattered away in the background, but Armie didn’t hear a word. His eyes roamed Timmy’s body, catching on the half hearted swell of his morning erection. “Ummhmm. Yep. Great idea, honey.”
Timmy rolled his eyes and walked back to the bedroom. Armie tilted his head to watch him leave.
“Armie?! Are you listening?”
“Uh huh. Yep.”
“So, like I said, I found this red baseball cap in the bottom of the closet. It was tucked inside an old suit bag. I can toss that, right?”
New York. Timmy. His conversation with Nick . Armie’s stomach turned to water, “No!” He blurted, and then, aiming for calm, “No, I want to keep it. Please.”
“But it’s trash,” Liz huffed, “I don’t even think I’ve seen you wear it.”
“Look, I don’t throw your shit away,” Armie hissed, pacing the living room, “even those empty bottles you keep all over the fucking dresser.”
“Jesus, Armie! What the hell?” He could just picture her, hand on her hip, scowling at him like he was a naughty toddler embarrassing her with yet another outburst.
“I just don’t want you to throw the cap away, OK? Why do I have to explain myself all the time?”
“Fine, fine. You can keep the hat.”
Armie sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry. It’s been an intense few days and...”
She hung up. Armie's jaw twitched as he stared at the blank screen. He didn't call back.
Timmy was in bed again, knees bent as he lay on his back. He looked up when Armie entered, “Alright?”
“Not really, no,” Armie sat, heavy on the edge of the mattress, passing his phone from hand to hand, “we should get ready.”
Timmy nodded, “I’ll go back to my place. Looks kinda obvious if I’m here when the driver picks us up.”
Timmy crawled down the bed, rested his chin on Armie’s shoulder. Armie leaned into the touch.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Timmy murmured, his lips grazing Armie’s stubble.
Filming that day passed in a haze. His body ached for Timmy. His fingers longed to touch, to brush a curl behind his ear, to swipe slick from the head of his cock. Luca was thrilled with how attentive Oliver was being. Every scene had him beaming with delight.
“You’ll fucking kill me if you do that,” Timmy wrenched his foot away, but his eyes were playful. He toyed with the Star of David, making it glint and snag in Armie’s chest hair. He felt his cock twitch. That wasn’t in the script. In retaliation, Armie lifted Timmy’s foot to his mouth and kissed it. That wasn’t in the script either. Luca was thrilled.
“Yes! Yes you are becoming them. You are living in their lives.”
Armie nodded and said, “Yeah.”
Another dinner at Luca’s house. Armie chose a blue button down he thought Timmy would like. His phone stared accusingly from the bedside table. He still hadn’t called Liz. Sighing, he picked it up and fired off a placating text. He was too tired for a phone call, didn’t want to wake her if she was sleeping. He added ‘having dinner at Luca’s, leaving phone at home.’ He didn’t want her to worry if she called and couldn’t reach him. Anyway, she had Luca’s number if there was an emergency. He had almost convinced himself by the time he left the apartment.
Conversation flowed like wine, wine flowing in equal abundance. He felt calmer, soft around the edges, Timmy a warm, animated presence by his side. He talked with his hands, holding everyone’s attention. He listened intently to Luca’s friend, eyebrows scrunched in thought.
“Beautiful. Just beautiful. The perfection of that first love.”
“Actually,” Timmy cleared his throat, “I think Elio was pretty much ruined by the whole thing. I mean, He still wasn’t over Oliver even decades later.”
Armie raised an eyebrow, “And Oliver wasn’t ruined?”
“Not as much, no,” he was asking a question without asking it. What did Armie think? Did he get it? Were they still talking about fictional characters?
“I disagree,” Armie mopped up some pasta sauce with a bread roll, “I think Elio had more room to heal. His family understood what he was going through. They supported him. Oliver didn’t have that support. I think Elio’s coping mechanisms will have been far healthier,” he bit into the bread.
Timmy mulled this over. Armie leaned in close enough that their calves were brushing. His knee nuzzled Timmy’s. Timmy smiled at his plate.
One by one, the guests dwindled until it was just the three of them, lazing in plush sun loungers, gazing at the stars.
Luca sighed, slapped his palms against his thighs, “Bedtime, I think boys.” Armie started to sit up, but Luca waved him back down, “Stay. Just lock the door behind you.”
They said goodnight. Timmy craned his neck to watch Luca leave. Once he was out of sight, he crawled into Armie’s lap, laying himself down on top of him. Their lips met in a sweet kiss. Armie stroked his back.
“I missed you.”
“You’ve been with me all day,” Armie teased, kissing along his jaw.
“Yeah, but not like this,” Timmy started to unbutton his shirt, his palms warm against Armie’s sensitive nipples.
“We can’t fuck on the director’s lawn,” Armie growled, mouthing at Timmy’s throat.
Timmy ignored him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. “I want skin.”
Armie let out a quiet moan as he pulled Timmy up for more kisses. His hand slid lower, slipping under the waistband of Timmy’s shorts. He squeezed. Timmy hissed.
“I’m sore,” he admitted, blushing as he buried his face in Armie’s neck.
“Hey, it’s OK,” Armie withdrew his hand, gave Timmy a comforting pat on the butt instead.
“I want though,” Timmy whined. He was rock hard against Armie’s belly.
“Hmmm, how about another rim job on the couch? I know how much you like those,” he flicked his tongue gently against Timmy's, a delicate imitation of what his mouth could do elsewhere.
“Hnnnhgh! Fuck, Armie. Fuck!” Timmy rutted helplessly.
“Let’s go, before we make a mess.”
Luca only watched for a moment. He saw Timmy settle, saw their kiss. He pulled his heavy curtains closed, his heart aching for both of them.
Midnight, and a bit of role reversal.
Midnight. They had talked about it so much that Armie felt like he was done with it already. Wished he was, in fact. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this, to pretend to take Elio’s virginity when he could still taste Timmy in his mouth from their encounter that morning. He tried to get into Oliver’s head, but that didn’t help either. He wasn’t Oliver. Oliver wouldn’t pick up a teenager in a seedy club and eat him out on his borrowed couch. He pushed the memory aside, embarrassed, and thought back to the morning after, when things had happened properly . He remembered slowly entering Tim’s body as Tim hovered above him, watching his face for any signs of discomfort, feeling his muscles relax when he saw only pleasure. Yes. That was how he would play this. The concerned, considerate lover. He walked to set with purpose, confident in his plan.
It didn’t help. Elio was different, his desperation softer, quieter. It was a weird thing, juxtaposed with his memory of Timmy their first night, uttering absurd phrases like ‘knew you’d be hung, wanna choke on it.’ Armie felt like he was scrambling, whereas Tim’s every movement showed a controlled lack of control. He was totally in character. Armie wondered how he had got so good and hated him for it, if only briefly.
When they broke for a lighting change he teased, quiet enough to avoid the boom mic, but loud enough to throw Timmy off, “Do you think Oliver was into rimming?” He felt Timmy’s body get hot next to him.
“Yes,” he whispered back, “I think they both were.”
Filming seemed to take hours. Armie stopped caring how aroused he was. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look, so why try to hide it? He felt stoned, as if he existed in a fog so thick it obscured the cameras. All he knew was Timmy. Timmy’s chest, Timmy’s mouth, Timmy’s cock straining against his own. They were completely naked, tangled together on sweat damp sheets. Timmy kissed him hungrily, rolling on top of him as their tongues clashed. He closed his eyes and welcomed it. This didn’t feel like acting.
“I wanna top tonight,” murmured quietly during another break, Timmy getting his own back.
Armie’s immediate reaction was to say yes, and his willing submission shocked him. He kissed Timmy’s temple in response, a ruse to seem less eager. Nobody saw.
By the time Luca called ‘cut,’ he was a mess. He hastily pulled a robe around himself to hide the damp spot on his hip. Tim did the same. They were walking out of the door when Luca called him back.
“Armie? A moment, please.”
Timmy lingered in the doorway. He bounced from foot to foot, impatient, clearly desperate to continue things away from prying eyes. Armie offered him a weak smile, apologetic.
“Tim?” Luca waved him away. He left reluctantly, shooting Armie another glance over his shoulder.
Luca watched him leave before ushering Armie into a corner with the screens and monitors, away from the rest of the crew.
“Armie, tesoro, I cannot show this.”
Armie frowned, confused.
“What you two have given me here, tonight,” he trailed off, as if searching for the words in English. “Intimacy,” he said at last, “I wonder, what is going on with you.”
The fog was gone. Instead, Armie felt like he’d been sucked through an airlock.
“I’m not sure what you expected,” he folded his arms, stood up straighter, his full six foot five, “you wanted us to be these characters. No boundaries. Now you’re upset because it looks too real ?” All bluster. He felt sick. Luca couldn’t know. He ran through the excuses in his head. His wife was in another country. He was young. Any man would get an erection, being pawed at like that. They hadn’t had sex. Don’t be ridiculous.
Luca looked distraught, “Please, calm. I am merely suggesting that we film it again. Tomorrow. Maybe less...Heated.”
Armie shook his head. No. He wasn’t going through all that again. “Just cut to the fucking trees or something!” He was walking away, bare feet slapping on the hardwood floors. Luca let him go.
Armie seethed all the way back to his apartment. Timmy had gone on ahead, his text said, needed to shower. His anger dissipated as he opened the door to the soft smell of green tea and lemongrass. Timmy was sitting naked in the middle of the bed, hair fluffy at the ends where it had started to dry. He beckoned Armie to him with open arms.
Should he tell him what Luca had said? Timmy started fumbling with the button on his jeans, licking his lips as he eyed the bulge underneath. No. Not tonight. He would tell him tomorrow, maybe over breakfast. They could make a plan together. He tilted Timmy’s chin up and kissed his mouth.
“You sure?” a nervous mumble against his lips.
“I’m gonna make this so good for you, Armie. I promise.”
Armie hugged him closer, pushed his tongue further into his mouth. When they broke apart, Timmy asked, “Have you done this before?”
Armie’s cheeks heated. “Yeah. Awhile ago.”
Timmy’s eyebrows pinched together. “After me?”
“No,” Armie rubbed his back, offered him a comforting smile, “no boys after you.”
He took his clothes off. They crawled under the covers. Timmy lay on top of him, played with his nipples, alternating between flicking them with his tongue and stroking them with the soft pad of his thumb. Armie’s cock throbbed. He grabbed Timmy’s arm as he reached for it.
Timmy nodded, understanding, “Lift your legs up for me, baby,” He encouraged Armie into position with a hand on his thigh, kissed the soft skin on the inside of his knee. Armie closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
Timmy was especially generous with the lube. He fingered Armie carefully, nestled between his legs, nuzzling under his jaw, nibbling his earlobe. Armie groaned and spread his legs further apart. He was deliciously slick, aching for whatever Timmy wanted to give him.
Timmy pushed in deeper, circled his thumb around Armie’s swollen rim, “Good?” His sweaty curls clung to his forehead. Armie pushed them back, and then held Timmy’s face, their eyes locking until Timmy looked away, demure, and kissed Armie’s wrist.
Armie let his hands wander over Timmy’s shoulders, trailing down to the flexing muscle in his forearm.
“Do you like this?” Tim asked again.
Armie kissed him, long and slow. “Fuck me.”
Timmy’s whole body shuddered as he shut his eyes. His fingers were barely out before he was pushing his cock inside. Armie gritted his teeth against the pressure. He squeezed handfuls of Timmy’s ass, guiding him in until he was buried to the hilt. They stilled for a moment, warm under the covers, breath mingling as they kissed lazily.
“You feel amazing,” Timmy pulled almost all of the way out and then sank back in, arching his back as he luxuriated in it, a smug little smile pulling up the corner of his mouth.
Armie was on fire. He had never wanted anyone so desperately. “Please,” he wrapped his legs around Timmy’s waist, thrusting up to meet him.
Timmy braced himself against the mattress, arms either side of Armie’s head. “That’s it, lover,” he purred, “show me how bad you want it.” He kept as still as possible while Armie worked himself on his cock, his abs burning as he bent and flexed.
“So sexy,” Timmy started to thrust again, helpless to resist, “so fucking sexy, Armie.” His movements became erratic. Armie had just enough foresight left to give his cock and few quick strokes before they were coming together, groaning, wrecked.
“Hmm. I guess I'll have to be,” Armie smirked, “No cold barstool to sit on here.”
A flash of recognition had Timmy crawling on top of him, kissing him breathless, tugging on his cock.
They spent the next day lounging around the apartment, both clingier than usual, neither pointing it out.
This one is a bit angsty, folks. Sorry.
Also, I think it's important to reiterate, particularly before this chapter, that this is completely made up and bears absolutely no resemblance to actual things that happened. It isn't a commentary on Armie, Liz or Timmy. I don't know them. It's all fiction xxx
3 Years Earlier
Armie wiped Timmy’s come off his mouth with a smirk.
“OK,” Timmy panted and gasped, hand on his chest as he kneeled above him, “ now I’m done.”
They lay together side by side, Armie playing with Timmy’s fingers, entwining them with his own.
“I really need a shower,” Timmy said after a while, wrinkling his nose and wincing as he shifted on the bed.
Armie pretended not to hear him until Timmy poked him in the side. He reluctantly walked him to the bathroom, showed him how to use the shower, fetched a stack of fluffy towels from the wardrobe. His throat felt tight. He shook his head. Idiot .
“Take your time. I’m gonna make coffee.”
Timmy gave him a little nod. Armie made sure he had a good long look when he stretched up to turn on the water.
He busied himself with the coffeemaker. What the hell was wrong with him? The kid was sweet, and he was a damn good lay, but fucking hell, he’d had plenty of one nighters. Could you even justify nostalgia for something that wasn't over yet?
Timmy’s red baseball cap sat innocently on the worktop. Suddenly, Armie was overcome with the need to keep it, to keep a part of him, even an insignificant, frivolous part. Eyes darting to the bathroom, he grabbed the hat, opened a drawer and stuffed it inside. He really hoped Timmy had forgotten, and even if he did remember, maybe they could pretend to look for it together. He’d stay for a few more minutes that way.
He heard the shower turn off and the glass doors slide open. Timmy appeared in a plume of steam, rubbing his hair with a towel, tying another one around his waist.
Armie cleared his throat, “Your clothes are on the sofa. I folded them for you.”
Timmy nodded his thanks. “So, erm,” he ran a finger around the rim of his cup, “will I see you again, or?” He trailed off, staring at his hands.
Armie swallowed, “I fly back to Texas in two days.”
“Guess I’ll see you on the big screen, then,” Timmy gave him a weak smile.
“Sorry.” His coffee had gone cold. He didn’t know what to do with his hands.
“I’m gonna get dressed.”
Armie decided not to tell Timmy about his confrontation with Luca. They weren’t asked to re-shoot the midnight scene, so it didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything. He’d overreacted. Plus, he knew it was selfish, but things were going really well between them and he didn’t want Timmy to pull away again.
They couldn’t get enough of each other; breakfasts at Luca’s house, spending all day on set, even when they didn’t have a scene together, dinners at their favourite trattoria, bike rides through the countryside, making love every chance they got. Armie knew their days in the sun were dwindling, but he shoved it aside, tried to focus on right now .
He was playing with Timmy’s hair when he got the message. He cringed when he opened the attachment. Shit. That was today?
Timmy nuzzled his crotch playfully. Getting no response, he lifted his head from Armie’s lap, “Arms?”
Armie’s hands were shaking. He stared, unblinking at the grainy grey ultrasound image. His son’s face, clear as day. Another life. Another life he had brought into this world. The thought came, frantic and unhinged; I don’t want this.
“Armie?” Timmy sat up fully, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Armie cleared his throat, quickly locked the screen and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I just, um, I just need to call Liz.”
Timmy shrugged, “So call her.”
“Oh,” Timmy blinked, taken aback, “OK. I can go get us something to eat, if you want?”
“Actually,” Armie cringed, “would you mind staying at your place tonight?”
Tim’s voice was high and thin, almost tearful, “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I,” Armie sighed heavily. He couldn’t bear to meet those huge green eyes. “Liz had her final scan today, and I forgot about it.”
Timmy reached out to gently touch his knee, “Is the baby OK?”
“Yeah. Yes, he’s fine, I’m just not feeling like the world’s greatest husband right now,” he instantly regretted his tone, hated the way it made Timmy fold in on himself.
“I’ll go,” mumbled quietly, already halfway off the sofa.
“I’m really sorry, Tim. It’s just”
“No, I get it. Really. I get it,” He scrunched his face into a quick smile that disappeared seconds later, “You’re not mine to keep.”
He closed the door softly behind him. Armie stared at the spot where he had been.
The call lasted over an hour. Armie tried so hard to get excited, but all he felt was gut wrenching fear and emptiness, like his insides had been scraped clean. A bitter taste filled his mouth when he hung up the phone. He wandered into the kitchen, poured himself several fingers of scotch.
He thought about calling back, telling her everything, every sordid detail from 2013 to present. She’d leave him, for sure. He deserved that. Wanted that? No. He wouldn’t see Hops. Or Ford. They’d decided on Ford as his name. Armie liked it. It sounded very old school Hollywood.
The right thing to do gnawed away at the back of his mind. Timmy would forgive him. He’d always been upfront, never expecting anything, yet the thought of leaving him was as painful as the thought of leaving his own children.
Everything he’d shoved aside was now pressing in on him from all directions. Luca had sent their promo schedule the day before. Months and months of it, travelling all over the world. He’d fucked Timmy on the sofa to celebrate, barely undressing, Timmy’s shoes scraping on the battered orange corduroy, t shirt bunched up under his chin. He didn’t know how to tell him Liz was coming too.
He downed the rest of the scotch. It was too early for bed, so he took a shower, hoping his despondency would sluice away with the soap suds. He sneered at his haggard reflection. Asshole.
He made toast and ate it. Irresponsible piece of shit. Turned on the TV. You hurt him, you fucker. You hurt everyone sooner or later.
“I’m not yours to keep.”
He had to see him. Even if they didn’t speak, it didn’t matter. He shoved his feet into his sneakers and grabbed his keys from the kitchen table. He startled when he opened the door, immediately softening into warm fondness.
Timmy was asleep on the doorstep, back against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. He blinked up at Armie with a yawn.
“Have you been out here this whole time?”
Timmy nodded sleepily, “Thought you might need me.”
Armie scooped him up, ignoring his half-hearted protests, and carried him to bed.
An interlude, set 2 days before the previous chapter.
I'm sorry this has taken so long. Thank you to everyone who is still reading xx
2 Days Earlier
Should he leave them by the table near the door or on the counter? By the bed? Was that too obvious? Was he a complete fucking freak for wanting this in the first place? He should just throw them away and forget about it. His mind wandered to Timmy, colour high on his cheeks, trying to feign innocence. Yeah. I’ve tried it.
Armie’s teeth grazed his bottom lip as he stared at the four round, blush peaches sitting innocently in their sun-bleached wicker basket. He checked his watch. Timmy would be doing it right now , or at least, pretending to do it. He moved his head from side to side, stretching out his tense muscles. Arousal hummed just under his skin, prickling goosebumps in its wake. He’d been half hard since he left the villa. It was starting to ache.
Timmy was coming straight over after filming was done for the day. They had planned to go out, but Armie was too on edge. Wound tight like piano wire. Ready to snap. It was probably for the best that Luca had closed the set and sent him home after he had done his bit. After the fiasco of Midnight, he couldn’t blame him. Trust was a fragile thing, and pretending to lick peach juice off Timmy’s dick had got him worked up enough already. He couldn’t have handled a fake orgasm on top of that.
He heard Timmy’s key in the lock, put the peaches down on the table behind his back.
“Hey,” Timmy smiled as he walked through the door.
Armie walked up to him, took his face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly. Timmy leant into it, closing his eyes, running his hands up Armie’s back.
“Hi,” Armie finally pulled away, kissed the tip of his nose.
“How did it go?”
Timmy kicked his shoes off by the door, “Alright. It was kinda embarrassing, though.”
“Yeah. I can see how it would be.”
“Pretending to jack it is one thing, but you know, with a” he stopped dead when he saw the fruit on the table. “Armie?”
“Hmm,” Armie turned his back to get a Coke out of the fridge. He looked up when Timmy didn’t respond.
Timmy had picked up the largest peach and was tossing it gently from hand to hand. He quirked an eyebrow at Armie’s hungry expression. “Alright. But I’m not cleaning up after.” He walked off in the direction of their bedroom, slipping his t shirt over his head.
Armie rushed to follow him, leaving his Coke unopened.
Timmy was already down to his boxers by the time Armie strode through the door (in a totally casual, not at all desperate to fuck kind of way). He stood facing the bed, smiling at the peach as he caressed it with his thumbs. Armie peeled his shirt off, let his jeans drop to the floor. Timmy didn’t turn round.
“Did you think about me?” Armie asked quietly, sliding his arms around Timmy’s middle, hugging him from behind.
“I tried not to think about you,” Timmy sniggered, “but yeah. Of course.”
Armie stroked Timmy’s arms, fingers coming to rest over Timmy’s, over the peach, “It was clever, of Luca. To film the sad bit first.”
Timmy hummed in agreement, “He wanted to give me a break.”
“I hate it when you cry,” Armie kissed his neck.
Timmy turned his head, captured Armie’s lips in a soft little kiss, “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Armie slid his hands into Timmy’s underwear, pushing down the waistband and lifting his cock out. He cupped his balls, worked his shaft with long, lazy pulls, punctuated with tiny scrapes of his teeth against Timmy’s sensitive neck. Timmy’s head fell back. He rocked his hips.
Armie moved them to the bed before he could get too into it. They lay together, naked and entwined as they kissed, peach forgotten, for the moment. Eventually, Armie rolled Timmy onto his back and, smiling, held the peach up in front of him. Timmy took it, pushed his fingers into its cleft to make a hole. The juice squirted all over his chest. Armie watched it run down to his navel, pool in the valleys between his ribs. Timmy pulled out the stone and put it on the bedside table, pushed his thumbs into the hole to make it wider. Armie raised an eyebrow. Blushing, Timmy made the hole a little bigger.
He held his cock at the base, got the peach into position with his other hand.
“Wait,” Armie squeezed his wrist, “let me.” He pushed the peach down onto Timmy’s cock, so slowly his hand was shaking, throbbing in sympathy as Timmy moaned. He moved it up again, then down. Juice dribbled everywhere, making Timmy’s cock look even more edible than usual.
Timmy hugged Armie closer, let his hand wander down his back until he found his ass. He squeezed it in time with the slip slide of the peach.
Armie kissed his lips, “What’re you thinking about?” he murmured, Timmy’s curls tickling his face.
Timmy gave his ass another squeeze in response, fingers brushing his cleft, pressing between his cheeks. Armie was beyond hard, the wet tip of his dick sticking to the sheets.
“Fuck me, Elio.”
Timmy’s hips jerked and Armie had to lift the peach off him, scared that he would come too quickly. His pupils were massive. He pulled Armie down into a desperate kiss, whimpering into his mouth.
Armie put the peach on the table, rummaged around in the draw for the lube. Timmy was already slick with precome and peach juice, but he knew it wasn’t enough. He sat across his thighs as he lubed him up, hovered over him on all fours to get into position.
The first breach hurt like hell, but he gritted his teeth. Timmy held his hips with sticky fingers, gazing up at him with equal parts amazement and lust. Armie worked himself back and forth, slowly opening up and taking more of Timmy each time. Their mouths met, sharing wet kisses and shaky breaths.
“I love this so much,” Timmy whispered, eyes closed as he kneaded Armie’s thighs.
Armie stilled, “Do I,” he swallowed, “do I take over? Too much?”
Timmy blinked at him, lips pulling into the most genuine, pretty smile Armie had ever seen.
“I love having you inside me.”
“I love everything we do together,” he pushed up, filling Armie completely.
Armie rubbed their noses together, “Me too.”
They fell into an easy rhythm, unhurried. Armie sat up, arched his spine as he took it. Timmy stroked his cock, shifting so he had a better view.
He swiped his thumb through the copious precome welling up in Armie’s slit, “I’m gonna beg Luca.”
Armie fucked himself harder, “What for?”
“For all the footage,” Timmy worked his hips faster, panting, “all the scenes where your gorgeous cock slips out of those fucking ridiculous shorts.”
Armie huffed out a laugh, “You think he’d give that up?”
“I’m very persuasive.”
“Yes, you are.”
Armie was so close. Every muscle ached as he bounced faster, squeezed tighter.
“So are you. Kinky fucker,” Timmy dug his nails into Armie’s ass.
Armie came with a yell. Timmy held his dick as he twitched and spurted, coaxing out every last drop until he came himself, spurred on by Armie’s quivering muscles.
They grinned at each other, chests heaving as they came down. Armie winced as he lifted himself off, flopping onto his side with a groan.
“You OK?” Timmy propped himself up on an elbow.
Armie tried to keep the pain out of his voice, “Stings.”
Timmy kissed his cheek, “Why didn’t you let me take care of you first?”
“I thought it would be OK.”
Timmy laughed softly, “I think we need a bath. A nice, hot one.”
Armie could only moan in agreement.
Armie cringed as the car slid on the damp road, back tyres squealing as they struggled for grip. He glanced at Tim, worried the jolt had woken him, but he was still curled up against the door with his legs bent awkwardly, his breathing slow and even. Armie picked up his grey hoodie from the seat between them and folded it into a makeshift pillow. Carefully, he leant over Tim and gently slid the hoodie between his head and the window. Timmy smiled in his sleep, snuggling his face into the soft cotton. Armie caught Luca’s eye in the rear view mirror and looked away, staring far out into the distance, the countryside lashed with rain.
You couldn’t miss the dark smudges under Timmy’s eyes, Armie’s increased irritability. He had lingered in his apartment that morning, running his hands over the woodwork, the metal sink, the door frames, taking everything in for the last time. The spare key he’d given to Tim now sat in the little drawer where he’d found it. Back to normal.
Armie slouched in his seat. There wasn’t enough leg room in the back. He could hardly see anything through the driving rain. Bergamo was supposed to be an hour’s drive, but the tempestuous weather had slowed Luca to a crawl as he perched forwards, peering over the steering wheel.
“Do you want me to drive?” Armie held the seat in front, his voice low so he didn’t disturb Tim.
“No no, quite alright,” Luca squinted at the road.
Armie sighed as he sat back. No distractions, then. He watched Timmy sleep. Watched the way his brow creased occasionally, the soft pout of his lips, the swell of his tummy as he breathed in and out.
“You’re getting a little belly,” Armie nuzzled it with delight while Timmy squirmed on the bed.
“I am not! I just ate! That’s what happens when you eat.”
“Cute little pasta belly,” Armie kissed it, ran his thumbs over the soft skin of Timmy’s hip bones.
Timmy made a grumbling noise and tried to turn over, but Armie was too quick for him and blew a raspberry on his stomach instead. Timmy shrieked, leg jerking up and nearly kneeing Armie in the face. Laughing, Armie relented, crawled up the bed to spoon him.
Timmy turned his head for a kiss, smiling as Armie’s large hand massaged his tummy, fingertips reaching up to his ribs, tracing each bump and ridge.
Timmy’s elegant fingers wrapped around Armie’s wrist as he guided his hand lower, “Don’t stop.”
The car sloshed through a deep puddle, knocking Armie out of his reverie. Timmy stirred, frowning, but settled again quickly. Neither of them had slept much since the night of Liz’s scan. They needed to talk. Soon. Armie’s insides lurched at the thought.
“Only ten minutes,” Luca called.
Armie nodded, “Timmy,” he jostled him a little, voice low and soft, “time to wake up.”
“MmmmmArmie,” Timmy smacked his lips, barely awake. He flopped over and cuddled up, his skinny arm stretched across Armie’s chest. “Armie,” a quiet sigh, happy and content. He nodded off again.
Armie felt his cheeks pink as Luca stared at him in the mirror. “He’s like a little kid,” he gestured to Timmy’s sleeping form, shrugged. Luca’s answering smile was all too knowing.
Armie sipped his beer as he tapped his foot along to the music. He kept zoning in and out of his conversation with Luca, his eyes wandering to Timmy and Esther chatting by the bar. She was flying home tomorrow, but Timmy had pestered her into coming along for a final night out. She hadn’t really needed that much persuading, Armie had noticed. The song changed and Timmy’s face lit up. He grinned widely as he mimed the lyrics, dancing on the spot.
She told me don’t worry about it,
She told me don’t worry no more.
We both know we can’t go without it ,
She told me you’ll never be alone.
Esther held her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles. Timmy’s dancing was kinda dorky, but he was so into it Armie couldn’t help but smile. Timmy caught his eye and stopped with a cough, cheeks burning. Armie laughed loudly, making Luca jump.
“You think that’s funny?”
“What?” Armie turned back. He had no idea what Luca had been talking about.
Luca shook his head and sighed, smiling in spite of himself. “Where is your head, Armie? What are you thinking about?”
Armie took another sip of his drink, smiled sadly, “The possibility of impossibilities.”
Luca followed his gaze to the bar, “Since our night of wine and stargazing? Or before that?”
Armie swiped a bead of condensation down his glass, watched it seep into the cork beer mat. He knew he should protest, deny everything, but he was so fucking exhausted. Sick and twisted, and very, very sad. “Before.”
He debated saying just how long before, but he couldn’t do that to Timmy. Or to himself, truth be told. He didn’t exactly come out of that one looking like a saint. He blinked, shaking his head a little to clear it, “I guess I should apologise to you.”
“Why?” Luca waved a hand dismissively, “I always want my actors to fall a little bit in love with each other.”
Armie didn’t bother to contradict him. They weren’t just fucking any more. That was for damn sure.
“But this is hurting you,” Luca looked concerned.
“Yes. Him, too.”
“You will be ending things soon,” it wasn’t a question.
Armie’s throat ached. He chastised himself for his tears, tried to blink them away before Luca saw them, “Yeah, of course. It’s just a story. Can’t live in a love story forever.”
Armie stood up, grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, “Thank you for the drink. Tell him I said bye,” and he was gone, through the doors and out into the chilly evening.
Mercifully, the rain had stopped. Armie realised he had no idea where the hotel was. He’d been too focused on Timmy’s story during the walk to the bar to take in any of his surroundings. He slid his phone from his pocket with a huff, annoyed that he had to resort to Google maps to get him ten minutes down the street.
A text from Liz. A picture of Harper asleep on her bump.
Can’t wait to have you home Daddy!
I think we have about 3 more chapters to go :)
Thank you to everyone who's sticking with this story. I'm sorry updates are so infrequent. Once again, this is work of fiction xx
The rain had started again. Armie lay in the dark, watching shadows dance across the high ceiling. He’d left the shutters open, a vain hope that the street noise would soothe him, but sleep remained stubbornly out of reach while a war raged inside his head, every possible outcome playing out like a horrible silent film reel. Truthfully, he knew exactly what he had to do. What he wanted to do? That was a different question entirely.
“Armie?” A soft knock, Timmy trying to be quiet, “It’s me. You awake?”
Armie groaned as he pushed himself out of bed. The light hurt his eyes when he turned it on. Timmy wobbled in the doorway, tipsy, clumsy on his feet. He fell against Armie’s chest as soon as the door was closed, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.
“Mmmm...My Armie. Where’d you go?”
Armie disentangled himself from Timmy’s skinny limbs, took a few paces back to put some space between them, “I was tired, Tim.”
Timmy giggled, “Sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No,” Armie shook his head, “did you have a good time?”
“Mmm,” Timmy kicked off his shoes, flopped onto Armie’s bed with a little bounce, “Esther tried to kiss me.”
Armie sat down next to him, “Oh?”
“Oh?” Timmy mocked, giggling again as he wiggled his toes against Armie’s thigh.
“Did you kiss her back?”
Timmy snorted, “No. Told her I see her as more of a sister. I think she’s pissed.”
Armie couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. He tampered it down with a serious sounding cough, “Well, I’m not surprised. She was probably expecting more than that.”
“You know,” Timmy sat up on his elbows, “having her there? This beautiful, smart, sexy girl fucking offering herself up to me? Really made me realise how much I love you .” He fell back onto the pillows, smiling.
He doesn’t know he’s said it. Armie swallowed. How often does he think it, to say it now so comfortably?
“Too far away,” Timmy whined, making grabby hands in the air.
Armie leaned over for a kiss, but Timmy pulled him down to lay on top of him. He wrapped his legs around Armie’s calves, nuzzled their noses together when they parted for air.
“Let’s fuck,” he squeezed Armie’s ass, voice low and breathy, “any way you want it.”
It physically pained Armie to lift himself up and off. He cringed at Timmy’s pout, “No.”
“Huh?” Timmy scrambled to sit up, rearranging himself with a frustrated yank, “what?”
“Go to bed, Tim. We need to talk, but I'm not having this conversation when you’re drunk.”
“Just fucking...Go, OK?”
His tone made Timmy flinch, “No. Not until you tell me what the fuck I’ve done.”
Armie dug his palms into tired eyes, “I said no. And that doesn’t mean ask me again in five minutes.”
“Armie?” Timmy’s bottom lip quivered. Armie had to look away.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
“Tim. Please. We have to stop.”
“This was meant to be fun, right? Just two guys ‘having fun?’ Well, it’s not fun anymore. Not for me.”
Timmy scrubbed at his face, trying to hide his tears before Armie saw them, “Where is this coming from? Did I do something? Is this cos of Esther? Cos I didn’t”
Armie sighed, interrupting him, “The movie's almost over. What did you think was gonna happen? That we’d carry on forever? That I’d fuck you in the closet at my kids’ graduation?”
Timmy sniffed loudly, buried his face in his knees, “I don’t know.”
“You said no strings.”
“Is that what you think this is?”
“Cos you just told me that you loved me. That’s a pretty fucking massive string, Tim.”
Timmy looked away.
“Did you mean it?” Armie’s hands were shaking. He dug his nails into the mattress.
“Yes.” Quiet. Barely more than a mumble.
"Do you feel it too?"
"You know what? Never mind. Either way it's over, right?"
"Tim," Armie reached out, overcome with the urge to comfort him.
Timmy flinched away from his touch, "I knew that we'd end this, I'm not stupid, but I thought you'd at least wait until filming was done. 3 days, Armie! We could've had such a good time. Do you know how hard this is gonna be for me? Pretending to lose you, when you've already gone?" Tears streamed down his face. He wiped his nose on his arm.
“No you’re not. You’re shit scared, but you’re not sorry.”
Armie opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He stared down at his feet, silent.
“And Luca’s gonna know something’s up,” Timmy continued, “we’re filming the pivotal scenes tomorrow . You know he picks up on everything. I don’t think I can pretend to”
“Luca knows,” Armie finally looked at Timmy’s face. The panic he saw there made him sick to his stomach.
“He asked me. And I told him.”
“When?” Timmy was off the bed, pacing a narrow path to and from the door.
“Tonight. But he talked to me after Midnight as well.”
“Fuuuuck,” Timmy raked his hands through his hair, “Jesus fuck what did you tell him?”
“After Midnight? I denied it. Told him to cut away to the trees if he thought we were too R rated.”
“I told him we were together. That it wasn’t healthy. He thought we should end it.”
“He thought we should end it,” Timmy sneered, “well, if that’s what our director wants, I guess we should give it 110%!”
Armie had never seen him this angry. It was a little frightening, the way his eyes darkened, his jaw clenched.
“I’d love to know when you started making all my decisions for me,” Timmy counted off on his fingers, “when we fuck, when we use a condom, when we break up, who we tell about it.”
“That’s not what I’m doing!”
“Yeah, it is. You have to fucking control everything. No wonder you’re not happy with her. She doesn’t let you have jack shit!”
“Get out,” Armie kept his voice calm, didn’t look at him.
“Fuck,” Timmy swallowed loudly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said”
Thank you for your continued love and support xxx
This is entirely fictional.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“No, cut! Reset. Go again.”
Armie growled as he pulled away for the umpteenth time, his Converse kicking up dust as he stepped back, “Are you gonna concentrate, or?” he raised his eyebrows, hands on his hips.
“Fuck off,” Timmy muttered. He pulled his shirt down lower, ran the back of his hand across his mouth.
His scowl made Armie’s jaw clench. He’d endured nearly two days of Timmy’s anger, accepting it as his due, but the moody teenager routine was getting old fast. They still had a movie to make.
“Look, I want this over with just as much as you do.”
Timmy scoffed. Armie ignored him.
“We’re meant to be going for the ‘kiss of a lifetime,’ here. Can you at least pretend you’re still into me?”
“Don’t need to pretend,” Timmy glared off into the distance. He pulled a loose stone out of the wall and threw it across the street, “that’s the fucking problem.”
Armie opened his mouth to retort, but ended up studying his feet instead, saying nothing.
The next kiss wasn’t right either. Timmy full on shoved Armie away before slamming his fist into the wall hard enough to draw blood.
“Hey, hey, woah!” Luca ran over to them, “What is this? What is going on?”
Timmy shrugged, kicked at the dirt, refused to meet anyone's eye.
Armie touched Luca’s arm, “Just give us a minute? Please?” At Luca’s nod he lead Timmy round the corner, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him the moment they were out of sight, “We’re working. The fuck is wrong with you?!”
“I’m just done, Armie,” Timmy scrubbed the tears from his cheeks, “so fucking done.”
“I’m sorry, OK? How many more times do I have to say it?”
Timmy sniffed, shrugged out of his grip.
Armie reached for him again, “Please,” his voice was soft. His thumb massaged Timmy’s collarbone, “I know I hurt you. I know I deserve all of this,” his voice cracked. He swallowed, “but I need you in this with me. I need my Elio. Just for tonight. Please.”
All the fight left Timmy. He wilted in his arms, looked up at Armie with dark, sad eyes, “Oliver?”
“I’m here,” Armie hugged him, placed a soft kiss to the top of his head, “I’m right here.”
They clung to each other, city sounds fading away until there was only the moon, shining on the cobblestones, and the nighttime insects, and them.
“I thought,” Timmy cleared his throat, his tone choked, longing, “I thought we’d finish shooting, go out for drinks maybe, and then”
“We’d make love. Until the sun came up.”
“And that you’d tell me you loved me. And I’d promise to be yours, forever.”
Armie’s shirt was getting damp. He blinked away his own tears, conscious of the cameras waiting just down the street, “You knew this had to end.”
“I know. I just never really believed it.”
Armie let him go. He brought Timmy’s injured hand to his lips, soothing his scraped knuckles with gentle kisses, “All that stuff you said...”
Timmy smiled at him, the cocky smirk of a seventeen year old trying his luck at the bar. “Never meant a word.”
Armie drained glass after glass, smacking his lips as the thick, sweet wine warmed his insides. There were laughs, and tears, hugs, promises of have a safe flight, and, see you soon! Until it was just the two of them, and he was stumbling up the stairs, unlocking the door to his room, and Timmy was right behind.
He lifted Timmy into his arms as their lips met in the dark, melting into a rhythm as natural as breathing.
“Just for tonight,” he kept saying, “just one last time.”
Timmy was so hard against his hip. Armie slid his knee between his thighs, swallowing all his little whimpers and sighs as they flooded his mouth. He needed him naked, needed to be inside , but Timmy had other plans. He lowered Armie’s boxers as they stood by the window, making sure the elastic caught as his cock bobbed between his legs. He kissed Armie’s shoulder, skinny arms hugging him from behind, plastered to his back.
“They missed a trick, cutting this scene,” he sucked two fingers into his mouth, traced a pattern down Armie’s spine, between his cheeks.
“Elio,” Armie gasped as Timmy’s fingers circled his hole.
“That’s right. Your Elio.”
Armie groaned as Timmy’s soft cock slipped out of him, the wet trickle of his release already dribbling down his thighs. He rolled over, wiping his own come off his stomach with a corner of the bedsheet. He turned onto his side to make Timmy the little spoon, rubbed his tummy, snuggled tight. Timmy tilted his head back for lazy kisses, drunk, fucked out.
“That was so good,” he mumbled against Armie's mouth, “so fucking good, Armie,” he reached behind, slid Armie's cock against his entrance as he rocked his hips, “you want more?”
Armie moaned, exhausted, oversensitive, already filling out in Timmy's hand.
They finally collapsed in a sticky heap, Timmy's breath hot on his chest just as the first slivers of pink and orange filtered in through the curtains.
Timmy nuzzled his neck, nipped affectionately at his shoulder, “I can’t believe we go home tomorrow.”
Armie smiled sadly, sore eyes squinting at the dim sunlight, “Tomorrow is today.”
One more 'official' chapter to go xxx
Well, here we are. The final chapter. Thank you so so much for all your comments and kudos along the way. They mean the world to me.
3 Months Later
Armie smiled at his phone. The blinking aeroplane icon showed him Timmy was somewhere over Illinois, roughly half way through his journey. Armie could just picture him, snuggled up in an oversized hoodie, earphones pulled low, absentmindedly chewing on the fastening of his neck pillow. He realised he was grinning like an idiot and tried to school his face into a more neutral expression.
Ford started to stir in the cradle next to him. Armie rocked it gently, humming soothing tunes until his son settled down again.
Filming had ended three months ago, but Crema felt a lifetime away. Liz had given birth less than a week after he had returned home, fully immersing him in dad mode and leaving space for little else in his tired, dopey brain. Except for Timmy.
They talked almost daily, either on Facetime or by text. He asked about Ford, they discussed the upcoming promo tour. Timmy made him laugh. They swapped photo updates. Nothing was said about the breakup, or their last night together in Bergamo.
They had woken up clinging to each other, damp with sweat, exhausted. The early morning air was humid, stifling as Timmy pulled Armie on top of him, guided him inside without a single word exchanged.
He’d cried on the plane. Armie hadn't even been able to hug him.
But, distance had made things easier. It felt like they were friends, at least, but now Timmy was coming to stay, and Armie found himself overly excited about it. He opened the app on his phone again. Timmy’s plane would be landing in two hours. Too early to set off. He sat back on the sofa, closed his eyes. No. He was too restless. He checked Ford’s breathing, tucked the baby blanket more snugly around him, and wandered into the kitchen.
Liz and Harper sat at the table, Liz scrolling through her phone while Harper was colouring. She didn’t look up when Armie came in.
He rubbed the back of his neck, tried to keep the nerves out of his voice, “Is Tim’s room all set up?”
“Yeah, I had Margot make up the bed. There’s some towels in there, too.”
“Good, great. Thank you,” he ruffled Harper’s hair, “who’s that, Hops?”
She held the picture up for him to admire.
Harper giggled proudly, chubby fingers pressed against her chin. It was quite a good likeness. The scrawly curls, especially. Armie bent down to kiss her forehead, “He’s gonna love it.”
“When are you leaving?” Liz asked, finally placing her phone face down and swiping an invisible mascara smudge from the corner of her eye.
“His plane lands in an hour,” Armie lied, “so, soon.”
“OK,” Liz smiled at him, “take the car seats out before you go.”
Airport parking was busy, as it always was. Armie drummed his fingers on his thighs, periodically turning on the engine for a welcome blast of AC. An hour was too long to wait in the pick up zone. The staff were giving him dirty looks.
Was this a bad idea? Inviting Timmy to stay? It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, when the wheels were touching down on the tarmac and Timmy had a connecting flight in half an hour. Now he wasn’t so sure. What if they didn’t know how to act around one another? What if they could only be phone friends from now on, because seeing each other in person was too much to take? What if he saw Timmy and realised what a horrible, painful mistake he’d made?
The app pinged to tell him Timmy had landed safely. Armie climbed out of the car, grinning at the disgruntled valet as he sauntered past him towards baggage claim.
He wasn’t waiting long before he was engulfed in a whirlwind of limbs and messy hair. It had grown since they finished shooting. Timmy looked even more angelic.
“Armiiiieeee!” Timmy squealed, hugging him tight enough to hurt.
“Woah,” Armie stepped back, winded, “easy there, Tim,” he laughed as he patted his back.
Timmy reached up on his tiptoes, leaned in for a kiss, but Armie pushed him away, palm in the centre of his chest.
“There are people.”
Timmy blushed, hutched his backpack further onto his shoulder, “Sorry.”
“It’s OK, let’s just,” Armie looked around, “get to the car first. OK?”
“So, here’s something I never told you,” Timmy turned his head to look out of the window, squinting in the afternoon sun, “when we were in Italy, I could tell you were...Spiralling. I knew you didn’t feel good. About us. At one point I even thought you were gonna tell her, and I,” he picked a piece of lint off his sweatpants, “I kinda wanted you to.”
Armie cleared his throat, risked a glance at Tim before turning his attention back to the road ahead, “Why?”
Timmy sat up straighter, his foot sliding off the dash, “Because I want you. Because...” he shook his head, leaving the thought hanging between them.
“You said ‘want,’” Armie said after a while.
Timmy shrugged, didn’t understand.
“Want. Present tense.”
A small smile played around Timmy’s lips, “You noticed that.”
“Timmy,” it should’ve been a warning. Instead it came out a tired sigh.
“Fine. Forget it,” Timmy turned angrily in his seat.
Armie looked him over, his heart flooding with warmth for this pouty, crabby boy. Smiling in spite of himself, he took his hand off the steering wheel and let it rest on Timmy’s thigh. Timmy looked at his hand, covered it with his own after a moment, entwining their fingers. Neither spoke. Armie gripped the wheel hard enough to hurt, the silence slowly choking him.
“Can we park up someplace?” Timmy’s voice was quiet, pleading. Like he was on the verge of tears.
Armie didn’t need convincing. He turned abruptly, the back end of the car swinging out as he plowed down a dirt track, away from the main road, foot hard on the gas. His hand slid from Timmy’s grip and back onto the gearstick.
“Where” Timmy started, then thought better of it.
The car bounced over stones and loose grit until the track ended at a locked gate. Armie parked up alongside it, turned off the engine, rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. They both leaned in at the same time, a rush of tongue and teeth, hands fisted in each others’ shirts. Armie broke away first. He yanked the lever up until his seat slid back along it’s metal runners, locking into place with a loud click.
Timmy clambered over the centre console, kicking a bottle of water out of the cupholder and nudging the hazard lights switch with his butt. Armie laughed as he reached up to cancel it, moaned instead when he was met with a lapful of warm Timmy, slender fingers cupping his face and soft lips pressed desperately against his own.
He ran his hands up Timmy’s back, under his shirt, his skin like satin. “I’ve missed you,” their noses brushed.
“I’ve missed you, too, Armie. So fucking much,” Timmy rolled his hips, pressing his erection into Armie’s stomach, “I thought I’d never have this again.”
Armie tucked a curl behind his ear, lost in his eyes before they kissed again. He pulled Timmy closer, held him more tightly against his body. His hands slid inside his sweatpants.
“I love your little ass,” Armie squeezed him, “so soft, so perfect,” he trailed a finger down his crease, “so tight. Fuckable.”
Timmy’s teeth scraped his neck, his hips undulating under Armie’s palms, “Can we fuck while I’m here?”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” Armie’s cock ached in sympathy.
“I have this fantasy.”
Timmy tugged his sweats down beneath his cheeks, his cock springing up against his belly.
“Jesus,” Armie stared openly, licked his lips as the want screamed through his veins.
Timmy stroked himself, hand braced against the headrest, his words hot in the breath between their lips, “We fuck in your bed,” his mouth brushed Armie’s, “all night. With the door open so anyone could catch us.”
“How do you want me?” Armie groaned, already lost in Timmy’s world.
Timmy thought for a moment, his hand stilling on his wet cock, “All fours. You edge me till I mess the sheets, ah!”
Armie pulled his hand away, holding his wrist down hard enough to bruise, “Would you settle for the back? The seats fold down. We could…”
Timmy nodded frantically, pulling his pants up and throwing the door open. He stumbled, almost falling into the grass in his haste. Armie chuckled, shaking his head as he followed.
The Range Rover was very spacious with the seats out of the way. Timmy sat on the tailgate, legs swinging as he leaned back on his elbows. Armie unbuckled his belt, pushed his jeans down enough to free himself before he was climbing over Timmy, tongue in his mouth, easing him further into the car to lay on his back. Timmy kicked his shoes off, flicking his ankle to toss them into the dry grass. Armie yanked his sweats and boxers down in one go, balling them up and stuffing them under Timmy’s head as a makeshift pillow. He took his shirt off, pulled Timmy’s up far enough to expose his nipples. He teased each one with a flick of tongue, a scrape of teeth.
“Lube’s in my bag,” Timmy whined, squirming, nails digging into Armie’s shoulders.
Armie found it straight away, raising an eyebrow at Timmy as he held up the full tube.
“Someone was prepared.”
Timmy blushed, stuck his tongue out. Armie took the opportunity to stroke it with his own. He brushed Timmy’s curls off his forehead, “Do you have any condoms?”
“Trust me, you’ll thank me later. Way less messy.”
“Such a considerate boyfriend,” Timmy nuzzled his chest, “bottom pocket.”
Armie tore a couple off the strip and left them within easy reach. He drizzled a generous amount of lube on his fingers.
“Lift up, baby.”
Timmy held his knees up to his chest, closing his eyes as he trembled under Armie’s intense gaze. The first touch of slick made him gasp. Armie circled his hole a few times, just testing the resistance before he eased the tip of his finger inside. Timmy was a writhing, sweating mess by the time he was up to the first knuckle.
“Fuck, Tim. So tight.”
“Have you had anything inside you, baby boy? You can tell me.”
Timmy shook his head, bit his bottom lip, “Not since last time.”
“No one else?”
“No one else.”
“Three months,” Armie mused. He balanced on his knees, started rubbing Tim’s tummy as he eased his finger in and out, added a second.
Eventually frustration won out. He lined up his cock, rubbing the head back and forth to tease Timmy's entrance. Timmy moaned loudly, head lolling from side to side. He was completely wrecked. Armie kissed down his neck, breathing him in, “Relax, you’re so excited. I need you calm,” he nipped Timmy’s earlobe, his voice low and dirty, “relax your little hole for me.”
Timmy took a long, shaky breath. Armie felt his muscles give as he inched further.
"Yeah, that's it. Let me in. Nice and slow. You can take it."
"You're so big!" Timmy whined, wrapping his legs around Armie's waist, reaching between them to tug and fondle his balls.
"Still got that size kink, huh?"
Timmy huffed out a laugh, "Why do you think I love you so much?"
Armie smiled, pretended to think for a moment, “Nope. There’s no other reason,” he buried himself to the hilt, “love you too.”
“You know,” Armie took a drag off the cigarette, passed it back to Timmy, “I’m almost certain I broke up with you.”
Timmy laughed, spluttering on his inhale, “We fucked again two days later. I don’t think it counts.”
Armie shrugged, “Are you getting dressed any time soon?”
“Nope,” Timmy flashed him a naughty smirk, “I might stay naked for the rest of the trip.”
They sat together on the tailgate, sore and sticky, passing a smoke between them. Armie watched their shadows lengthen, watched the grass swaying in the breeze until he ran out of excuses.
It was dark by the time they pulled up to the house. Liz came running down the steps, Ford in her arms, “Where the hell have you been??”
“Delays,” Timmy sighed, rolling his eyes, “you know how it is. Is this Ford?? Oh my god! Hi!” He leaned down to coo over the baby, holding out his finger for Ford to hold on to, “Hi little guy.”
“You couldn’t call?”
“It was my fault, Liz,” Timmy stood up straight again, “I kept Armie talking the whole way back. I’m really sorry.”
Liz sighed, softening as she stroked Timmy’s cheek. Armie let out his breath slowly, tension leaving his body in increments. He gave Timmy a tight lipped smile as they followed Liz into the house.
Timmy fussed over the kids all night. Armie watched from the sofa, his vision blurring until he had to excuse himself to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and dabbed it with a towel. Why are you crying? You got him back. He sneered at his reflection. Yeah. Back to square one, idiot. Even after everything they’d done, everything they’d said to each other, everything that had happened for the past three fucking years, his life was no different. He was selfish. A liar. An adulterer. To think he’d ever entertained the notion that he could have them both.
Eat enough cake and it’ll make you sick. Always does, in the end.
The table was full of charity bags when he came down for breakfast the next morning. Liz was pottering around, folding things and re-bagging them. Timmy wasn’t up yet. Armie poured himself a glass of juice from the fridge, leant against the worktop.
“Haven’t you given that school enough?”
“These aren’t for the school. Pass me that one over there.”
Armie reluctantly pushed away from the counter. His eyes narrowed as he picked up the open bag. There was something shoved down one side, not neatly arranged like the rest of the piles. Something red.
Armie fished it out, anger making his nostrils flare, “I fucking told you!”
“I told you to leave that fucking hat alone. What the hell is your problem?!”
“ My problem?” Liz folded her arms, “What about you ? Why are you so hung up on a stupid hat?”
“Jesus, Liz. It’s not even mine!”
Foot on the gas, heading straight for the cliff.
Blood screamed in his ears. All the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. It felt like time had stopped. Even the birds had fallen silent.
“I cheated on you.”
Liz just stared at him, like it was all a joke, and she was waiting for the punchline, “I don’t understand.”
“The person. That I…" Armie took a breath, "They left that in the apartment.”
“And you kept it.”
They stood facing one another, implication weighing heavy between them.
“I need to check on Ford,” she was pushing past him, out of the kitchen and into the living room.
He let her go.
The stairs creaked as Timmy bounced down them two at a time. He was all smiles as he walked into the kitchen, “That bed is amazing, dude. I never wanna leave.”
Armie just nodded, preoccupied, mentally surveying the pieces of his broken life.
“Hey, my hat!”
Armie didn’t realise he was still holding it. He scrunched the fabric in his fist, but it was too late.
“Thanks, man,” Timmy snaked an arm around his waist, “I thought that one was a gonner. Another thing I'd lost that night, right?”
He never did keep his voice down. Armie winced at the sound of glass breaking in the hallway. A phone dropped in shock, meeting its end on a shiny parquet floor.
Timmy turned to him, an absolute picture of youthful innocence. “What?”