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It's You

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“Please tell that boyfriend of yours to make a sandwich next time he’s hungry.”

“God, Mom,” Pauline rolled her eyes, “Can you spare me the lecture, please? I’m twenty years old,” she tugged on her collar, rearranged her hair around her neck. 

Their mother shrugged, “All the more reason to give up the hickeys, sweetheart.”

Timmy snorted into the napkin he was folding, Pauline’s death glare searing his skin. 

“And when do we get to meet him, anyway?” Nicole went on, “He can take a bite but he can’t come and see the family?” She wandered into the kitchen to fetch the casserole, still talking to herself.

Pauline shot Timmy a ‘help me’ look as soon as she was out of the room. Timmy shook his head, gleefully mouthed ‘no.’

“Is he free next Saturday?” Nicole placed the steaming dish in the middle of the table.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask.”

“You’re not doing anything Saturday, right Timmy?”

“Erm, I’m seeing Sersh. I’ll be back for dinner, though,” his grin was all sweetness and light. Pauline kicked him under the table.

“Excellent. I’ll make a roast.”

Pauline sighed heavily, but when Timmy glanced at her a moment later, she was smiling.


The park was full of screaming kids. Timmy and Saoirse sipped brightly coloured slushy drinks, judging the sprawling masses from behind dark sunglasses. 

“You’ll be fine, baby,” Saoirse leaned against him, “he’s only the boyfriend.”

Timmy grimaced, “He fucking sucks on her neck.”

Saoirse laughed loudly, startling a chubby toddler into a fresh round of tears, “Timothee, darling, that’s what people do .”

He shrugged, non-committal. Like he knew.

“It’s just one dinner, and if your mom hates him, he won’t be coming over again.”

“I guess.”

"Do you think they're serious?"

"I dunno," Timmy pulled a daisy out of the grass, twirled it between his fingers, "she's talked about him a lot. She doesn't normally do that."

“I’m sure you’ll like him, though.”

“What if I hate him?”

Saoirse rested her head on his shoulder. They were quiet for a moment. Eventually she hummed, as if she was steeling herself to say something. 



“Is this just about nerves, or?” she swallowed.

“I’m not jealous ,” Timmy’s face screwed up as he said the word, “why would I be?”

“OK. Sorry,” she cuddled closer to him.

Timmy kissed the top of her head. A couple with a dog smiled at them as they walked past.  He wished, for the thousandth time, that he was less of a coward. He knew he could trust her, but something always cut him short, stopped the words before they bubbled up in his throat.

The kiss had been the worst. New Year’s Eve two years ago, Bethan’s fancy dress party, so much Sambuca his tongue had gone numb. Saoirse had fallen into his arms, poking him with her fairy wings as she pressed their lips together. He’d kissed her back, obviously. What else was he supposed to do? He was faking it just fine until she tried to grab him through his jeans. He’d never seen anyone look so hurt or disappointed.

Thankfully she never tried it again, but there were moments where she looked at him like she knew , and it was unsettling.

“I should head home,” Timmy uncurled his legs, brushed grass off himself as he stood, “I need to iron a shirt for tonight.”

“Wow! You’re really bringing it, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off. Mom’s making me.”

“College in the fall, Timmy!” Saoirse giggled, linking her arm through his as they set off down the path, “College in the fall!”


The doorbell rang exactly ten minutes early.

“Tim?! Can you get that?” Nicole fixed her earrings in place, smoothed down her dress in the mirror.

“Can’t Pauline get it?”

“No!” Pauline yelled from upstairs.

“Ugh. Fine,” Timmy grumbled all the way to the door, took a deep breath before opening it.

“Hey,” He was met with a firm handshake, a dazzling smile, “I’m Armie. You’re Timmy, right?”

Timmy felt like he’d been whomped with a couch cushion. This was the neck sucker. Fucking hell .

“Uh, yeah,” Timmy blinked up at him, “come. Come in.”

“Thanks, man. Oooh, something smells delicious.”

Armie filled their hallway. Timmy watched him walk towards the dining room with a look of complete despair. Nobody should be that pretty. Perfect skin, lightly tanned with just a hint of stubble. Sharp, white teeth, beautiful blue eyes that crinkled in the corners. Tall. So fucking tall he made Timmy’s knees weak. His white tee was tight in all the right places, soft against his body. He held a plaid shirt in his left hand, an effort to dress up discarded in the car, hastily remembered on arrival. It was a hot day, but he wanted to impress. Timmy swallowed thickly.

Armie hugged Pauline and gave her a kiss on the cheek before holding out his hand to Nicole, “Armie. Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Nicole looked as dazed as Timmy felt, “drink?”

“Please,” Armie smiled as he looked around, “beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” Nicole handed him a glass of lemonade, “I made a roast, I hope that’s OK.”

Armie made a  loud ‘mmmm’ noise. He laughed nervously when he realised they were all staring at him, “Sorry. I just haven’t had a home cooked meal in months . I got excited.”

“Your parents don’t cook?” Nicole puffed out her chest a little. Her cooking was legendary.

“I moved out about six months ago. Let’s just say I’ve become very good friends with my microwave ever since.”

So he was witty. And charming. And hot. Fucking wonderful. Timmy scowled as he took his place at the dinner table, vowing to remain silent until he could escape to his room.

Unfortunately Armie wasn’t in on the plan. The floodgates opened as soon as he asked Tim about college, and after an hour they were having a spirited debate over the mashed potatoes.

“Nobody lives off campus their first year,” Armie said, incredulous, “the dorms are where all the best parties are. Besides, no one wants to rent a house with freshmen. None of ‘em have two life skills to rub together.”

“Speak for yourself,” Timmy scoffed, but it was good natured, “least I can turn on the stove.”

Armie was gorgeous when he laughed. His face went all pink and pretty. 

“Hey, be careful,” Pauline squeezed his arm, “there’s not much Timmy can’t do.”

Timmy blushed. 

“Is that so?” Armie sat back in his chair.

Timmy blushed harder under Armie’s gaze. He was glad when his mother announced there was lava cake for dessert. 


SR: So??? How did the dinner go? What’s he like?

TC: Tall.

SR: AND????

TC: idk. He’s alright I guess. He talks a lot.

SR: Oh :/ Is he one of those?

TC: No. He’s really nice.

SR: But you just said he talks alot lol. 

TC: I didn’t mean in a bad way.

SR: OK. What’s up?


Timmy chewed his thumbnail as he looked at the screen. There was a nagging ache in his gut that didn’t want to talk about Armie. It felt too much like sharing him. 


TC: Nothing. Tired.

SR: *hug emoji* It’s late. We can talk tomorrow.

SR: When you’re being less of a dick ;)

TC: Night then xx

SR: Night precious xxx 


Timmy powered off his laptop, lay down on his back, drummed his fingers against his chest. He stared at the ceiling for ten minutes before booting it up again. 

He found the video he wanted embarrassingly fast. Glancing nervously towards the door, he made sure the sound was muted before he hit play. 

The guys in this one were almost painfully beautiful. Timmy sighed as he watched them kissing, smiling into each other’s mouths as their hands explored. There was never enough kissing in porn. So many disappointments. Rando gets reamed by neanderthal with neck tattoo. SO not sexy. Blergh. 

Timmy shook his head a little to clear away the image and turned his attention to the pretty boys sucking dick. Fuck, he wanted to do that. He squeezed himself through his sweats and bit his lip to stifle a moan. If only his boyfriend had been coming over for dinner tonight. Maybe he’d still be here. Maybe they’d be watching this together, snuggled under the blankets, playing with each other’s... His mind swam with the possibilities. Of course, not actually having a boyfriend made it harder to picture, but still. 

Timmy slipped his hand beneath his waistband. The guys were on the bed now. One of them had his knees pulled up to his chest while the other one fingered him. Timmy teased the slick head of his cock with his finger tip, clenched his ass muscles. He was still working up the courage to try putting anything inside himself. Truthfully, he had to work up the courage to buy lube first, and the lady in the pharmacist’s was friends with his mom. Maybe he could order some off Amazon. They did click and collect now. Discreet packaging.

Fuck, where the hell was his mind tonight? He opened his eyes wide and blinked several times. His cock had softened considerably. Huffing in frustration, he pulled his hand out of his pants and hit pause on the video. 

Why was he so pissed off? It’s not like the evening had gone badly. Armie was a really nice guy; smart, funny, courteous. He was happy for Pauline. She deserved someone decent after all the losers she’d been with. 

Timmy stashed his laptop on the bedside table, kicked out of his sweats and climbed under the covers. Yeah, Armie was cool. He could see himself hanging out with him, chatting about movies and stuff, maybe more of Tim’s plans for college. They could go for a burger together. He might wear the red plaid shirt again, with the sleeves rolled up. Maybe a black t shirt underneath this time, tighter than the one he’d worn tonight. Something that showed off his nipples when the AC was up too high. Maybe he’d be a little scruffy from working on his car all afternoon, so his hair would be kinda mussed up, and he might’ve ripped his jeans in a couple of places.

Timmy’s hand was on his dick before he was consciously aware of it, working himself in short, quick strokes. He came with a grunted “Fuck,” gasping for breath as his release splattered his chest.

He wiped off with a corner of the duvet, flopped onto his stomach, and slept.


Chapter Text

SR: Are we still on for tonight?

TC: Oh shit. No. I forgot. Sorry.

SR: :( WTF Tim????!!

TC: Armie’s coming over to help with my applications.

SR: Again??

TC: It’s important, OK? 

SR: And I’m not?

TC: Of course you are. I’m free Monday if you wanna do something.


The ‘typing’ icon flashed, stopped, flashed again.


SR: How does P feel about you hanging round them all the time?

TC: ??

SR: He’s HER bf

TC: She’ll be there too. She lives here.

SR: Not what I mean

TC: ???

SR: Forget it. I’ll see you later.


Timmy squinted at his phone. What the fuck was that ? Armie was coming over anyway. He’d become a regular visitor now that he had the Nicole seal of approval, and Timmy was not ‘hanging around them all the time.’ 

Aggravated, he tossed his phone onto the bed and went back to reading his personal statement. For the first time in his life, he wished his mom had pushed him into extra-curricular activities. Academically, he was a shoo-in, but there was literally nothing else he could write. Played soccer in fifth grade wasn’t exactly gonna wow the entrance committee. He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. At least Armie would be here soon to help him.

Armie . A small smile played around his lips. They had seen a lot of each other the past few weeks, he couldn’t deny that. He wasn’t intentionally trying to monopolise his time, but his applications were important, and Armie had already been there, done that and graduated with the hoodie. And he had offered to help. Only an idiot would say no.

The doorbell/loud knock combo signalled Armie’s arrival.

“I’ll get it!” Timmy bounded down the stairs, flung the door open with a grin.

“Hey buddy,” Armie patted his shoulder as he walked inside.


“Ah, no thanks. Is Pauline ready?”

Timmy shrugged, “Dunno. Come upstairs, this fucking statement of suitability is kicking my ass,” he turned to walk away, but Armie called him back.

“Um, Tim?” He looked away, blushing slightly, “We’re going to a party. I’m just here to”

“Hi!” Pauline flung her arms around Armie’s neck. 

Timmy studied his feet, their kisses too loud in his ears. 

“Sorry kiddo,” Armie laughed as he peeled himself away, “some other time, right?” 

Timmy plastered on his best fake smile, “Have a wonderful night.”

Pauline ruffled his hair on her way out. He ruffled it back as soon as the door was closed, stomped upstairs, flung himself onto the bed hard enough to squeak the springs. Idiot. His face was hot with embarrassment. He clawed his phone out of his pocket and opened the messenger app. Saoirse’s status flashed to ‘offline’ the moment he started typing. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he growled through gritted teeth, smacking his head back on the pillow. So now he was spending Friday night alone in his room. Great. Even his mother was out on a date.

He rolled off the bed with a sigh, closed his laptop without saving the document. His statement was shit anyway. Why bother? He moped down the stairs and into the kitchen. The fridge was a huge disappointment. The only ice cream in the freezer wore a Post It declaring ‘NOT TIMMY’S.’ He grabbed a spoon regardless, wrapped the carton in an oven glove so it wasn’t too cold for his hands. 

It took him half the tub to find a movie worth watching. The dialogue was stunted, but the main guy looked a bit like Armie and it gave him a warm, fluttery feeling. He ended up watching the whole thing and crying at the end, saved it to his Netflix list for repeat viewing.

He put the empty ice cream tub back in the freezer with a note saying ‘ATE. WILL REPLENISH.’ The kitchen clock read 11:30. He turned off all the lights and went upstairs to bed.

It was after 2 when he woke to the door banging and a fit of muffled giggles. Timmy blinked, eyes sticky with sleep, a little string of drool connecting his mouth to the pillow. Loud footsteps on the stairs. A man’s voice, hushed, urging quiet. Armie and Pauline, home from the party and probably shitfaced. Timmy flopped back down with a groan. 

He heard them talking through the wall, heard the bed creak, heard…

Fuck. No. No no no no. He was suddenly wide awake. Shit, no, he didn’t wanna hear this. He shuffled to the other end of the bed, as far from the wall as possible, curled into a ball and pulled his pillow over his head. 

Twenty minutes later, Armie was still grunting and groaning. Timmy cuddled the pillow, willing it to be over. Armie let out a particularly loud noise and then...Nothing. Silence descended over the house. Timmy rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t know when the tears had started. Exhaustion, probably. Anger at being kept awake in the middle of the night.


He was in a foul mood when they came down for breakfast. 

“Hey buddy,” Armie helped himself to orange juice.

Timmy grunted in response, didn’t look up from the back of the cereal box. 

“What’s up?” Armie sat opposite him, his long legs stretched either side of Timmy’s. His hair was a mess, his cheeks dark with stubble. He nudged Timmy’s shin with his big toe. Timmy’s cock twitched in his pajama pants. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, shooting Armie a pointed stare.

Armie cleared his throat, obviously understanding, obviously uncomfortable. “We thought you were out cold.”

“Yeah, well. I was .”

“I’m really sorry Tim,” Armie splayed his hands out on the table, studied them intently, “that was...So not cool of me.”

Timmy softened in spite of himself. Who could stay mad at that face? “You’re lucky my mom was out,” he smirked into his Cheerios, “you’d have no balls left.”

Armie laughed, shook his head, “Do you still need help with your college stuff?”

“Yeah, but, not today. Got plans.”


Was that a note of disappointment he could hear? Jealousy, even? “Yeah, hanging out with a friend,” Timmy stood up, put his bowl in the sink, “see you later.”

“Yeah. Later.”


Saoirse rolled her eyes when she opened the door to him. “Roses, Timothee? You’re such a cliche.”

Timmy smiled up at her, held the flowers to his chest, batted his lashes.

“Ugh. Fine. Come in,” she couldn’t hide her smile as she took the bouquet from him.

Timmy stuffed his hands in his pockets, “I’m sorry about last night.”


“And the three times I cancelled last week.”

“And?” She arranged the flowers in a vase.

“The twice I cancelled the week before.”

“Very good. And why are you sorry?”

“Because you mean the world to me and I took you for granted. It was thoughtless, and shitty, and I won’t do it again.”

She blinked at him, taken aback by his honesty, “Jesus, Tim.”

He smiled weakly, traced a fingertip across the panel in the door, “I think...I think something’s going on with me.”

They sat down together, sinking into the sagging sofa. Timmy took a deep breath, let it out slowly, “I think I like someone. But it’s complicated. I don’t know how I feel. This hasn’t… happened. Before.”

Saoirse nodded kindly, her hand on his knee, “Armie, right?”

Timmy smiled at the carpet, the tightness loosening in his chest, “How did you know?”

“Because it’s really obvious. Because you get this look on your face every time you mention him,” she smoothed out a crease in her skirt, “because you’ve never ditched me for anyone else.”

“I’m sorry.”

Saoirse waved a hand dismissively, “Already forgiven.” She held her arms out to him. Timmy fell into the hug, gently headbutting her shoulder before wrapping his arms around her.

“Thank you for telling me,” she petted his hair.

“Thank you for being so cool about it.”

“Of course. I’m way cooler than you.”

“I know.”

She gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, “I am in desperate need of additives. Let’s go to the park. You can tell me all about your boy.”

Timmy giggled, blushing furiously.

“OK. You got it bad.”


Timmy glanced around nervously as she handed him the drink, “Subtle.”

Saoirse laughed, “I had to!”

“Rainbow slushie? Seriously?”

“Drink up, baby. That shit cost like, six bucks.”

“Yes. It’s an expensive orientation.”

“All that neon underwear.”

“And product. So much product.”

“Like you’ve ever used product ever.”

Timmy held his hand to his chest, eyes wide in mock offense, “You think I just woke up like this?!”

Saoirse dissolved into giggles, clutching his arm as they settled into their usual spot beneath the trees. It was cooler today, a sharp breeze rustling the grass. She swirled her straw around her slowly melting slushie. “Can you show me what he looks like?”

“Yeah, hang on. He doesn’t really use social media. It might take awhile to find a pic with him in it,” Timmy opened Instagram and started to scroll. Straight away he saw pictures from the party, Armie and Pauline, arms around each other, mugging for the camera. 

“What’s wrong?”


“Your face is doing the thing.”

Timmy sighed as he handed over his phone. 

Saoirse bit her lip as she looked through the pictures, “I can see why you like him.”

Timmy nodded.

“They look really happy together,” she said it carefully, like she didn’t want to tip him over the edge.

“I know. They are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? It’s not like I want her to be miserable. I love her.”

“Yeah, but…”

“It sucks. It really fucking sucks. But I’m just gonna have to get over him and move on, because he’s never gonna be interested in me.”


“I’m fine,” he swallowed down the ache in his throat, “It’s just a crush. It’ll go away.”

Saoirse thought for awhile, “Maybe you need some distance from him. Out of sight, out of mind, or something.”

Timmy winced. The thought of not seeing Armie was physically painful.

“OK, unscrunch your face. Maybe I was wrong.”

Timmy ripped up a handfull of grass, tossed it aside, “I heard them fucking last night.”

“Oh! Wow.”


“Oh, Timmy. Come here,” she snuggled into him. 

He let his chin rest on top of her head, “Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need some distance.”


His mom was home when he got back. He leaned over the sofa to kiss her cheek.

“Hey, before you rush off, I want to talk to you both about something.”

Pauline gave him a little wave from the footstool. It looked like she’d been waiting awhile. Timmy perched on the armrest.

“Jack has asked me to go on vacation with him, and I’d really like to, but I’d be gone for a whole week. Is that something you would be OK with?”

“Yeah, sure,” they nodded their agreement.

“I was thinking, maybe it would be nice for the two of you to go up to the cabin while I’m away. Spend some quality time together before Timmy goes off to college. What do you think?”

Timmy looked at Pauline, gauging her reaction. She shrugged. 

“Could I bring Armie?”

Nicole pursed her lips, “How would you feel about that, Timmy?”

“Um, I like Armie a lot. I’d be really happy to come with him. For him to come,” Fuck!

“OK. Well, if you’re happy then I’m happy. I’ll call Jack.”

Pauline hugged him tight, “Thank you baby bro! This more than makes up for eating my ice cream.”

Timmy laughed nervously. Distance. There was distance in the woods, right? This was fine. 

Completely fine.

Chapter Text


“Fucking hell, Armie! Drive straight!” Pauline clung to the door handle, bent double with laughter while Armie held the wheel in a death grip, desperately trying to tame the back end of the car as it swung around bends on the mountain road.

Armie’s knuckles were white from gripping so hard. He stared at Pauline, incredulous, “Do you even know how hard it is to move this thing without power steering!?”

“Yes! I drive it to fucking Cali and back ten times a year.”

“Explains your Hulk-like arms. Always wondered about those.”

She smacked him with the folded up map while Timmy giggled in the back seat. The ‘83 Chevy Impala was his sister’s pride and joy. It was the ugliest, brownest monstrosity ever to grace the Earth, but her love for it was boundless. Plus, it could comfortably fit the three of them and all their camping shit, and even Armie had enough leg room. Timmy stretched out either side of the cupholder. He had to sit in the middle because the other seatbelts were fucked, but he didn’t mind. It was more inclusive, this way. Less nauseating, too. He’d never been a good passenger.

“How far?” He asked, leaning forward to peer through the windscreen.

“Couple more hours.”

Timmy sighed dramatically, then, “Playlist?”

“Oooh yes!” Pauline rummaged around the glove compartment, “Ta daa!” She held up a cassette tape with a bright pink label.

“What’s that?” Armie smiled as he glanced over.

“That,” Timmy said proudly, “is our super sweet road trip playlist, circa 2002.”

“Why is it on cassette if you made it in 2002?” 

Pauline shrugged, “Mom had some blank tapes. Plus, no CD player in the Chevy. It was fate.”

Timmy bounced in his seat, squeezing Armie’s shoulder, “You’re gonna love it.”


“I’m really more of a Rock Lobster man, myself,” Armie told them as Love Shack faded out through the car’s tinny speakers.

“That’s up next. Timmy picked it,” Pauline turned in her seat to grin at him, “he was seven at the time. Mom insisted he had a turn picking songs.”

“Really?” Armie raised his eyebrows in the mirror, “Good choice, baby Tim.”

Timmy dug his nails into the ancient corduroy of the car seat, looking down at his lap to hide his blush. Like Armie needed to get any more perfect . He knew all the words and even did a little shimmy dance thing (making the car swerve wildly. Pauline screamed). By the final verse Timmy was desperate to kiss him. He wondered what would happen if he just leant over and smooched his cheek. Would he be surprised? Flattered? Pissed? Would Pauline laugh, or leave him by the side of the road without stopping?

“Oh man!” Armie laughed as the opening bars of Hungry Like the Wolf reverberated around the car, “Woman, you want me, give me a sign, and catch my breathing even closer behind,” he slapped the dash as he sang loudly. 

Pauline joined in with the do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodos while Timmy picked up the rest.

“High blood drumming on your skin it's so tight, you feel my heat, I'm just a moment behind…” he trailed off, cheeks burning. Fuck, he was really singing that two inches behind Armie’s head? He discreetly readjusted himself and pretended to be really interested in the passing scenery. 

They finally pulled up to the cabin just as Relax was in its final throes. Timmy was beyond uncomfortable, his body having some sort of pavlovian response to hearing the word ‘come’ so many times in rapid succession. He ran to the bathroom as soon as they got inside, didn’t even bother with the light. He came embarrassingly fast and scowled at himself in the mirror afterwards. 

Nobody could be bothered to cook after such a long drive, so they ate Marshmallow Mateys while Armie got a fire going. Timmy snook glances at him over his cereal bowl, warm and glowing in the firelight. He was almost grateful when they went to bed.


He woke early next morning, sunlight streaming in through the curtains he’d been too tired to close. Annoyingly, the bathroom was already occupied. He could hear Pauline singing over the clunk of the rusty pipes, the loud spray of shower droplets hitting the metal tub. He turned to go back up to his room, content to doze for half an hour until she was done, when the corner of his eye caught a sliver of light. Their bedroom door, open just a crack. He couldn’t hear anyone in the kitchen, so Armie must still be asleep. Timmy crept closer, tiptoeing around the old floorboards. He craned his neck to peek through the small opening.

Armie’s leg. Tanned and toned, hanging off the end of the bed. This was wrong. He should go back upstairs. He pushed the door open further. 

Armie was fast asleep, blankets pushed off and bunched up on his left side. He lay almost on his back, one leg straight, the other bent at the knee, thighs apart. He was completely naked. Timmy felt his mouth fill with saliva as he stared at Armie’s body. He was muscular, tight, but there was a softness to him as well. Like he’d fuck you raw but cuddle you afterwards, offering you asprin, aloe vera to soothe the marks he’d inflicted. His nipples were flushed in the early morning chill, hardened into little peaks. His hand rested on his stomach, fuzzy with golden hair that darkened in a line down from his navel until it thickened out at the base of his shaft. Timmy throbbed, instantly hard in his pajamas. Even in his sleepy state, Armie was the biggest he’d seen.

Timmy let out a high pitched whine, clamped his hand over his mouth. Armie stirred, smacking his lips and rolling over onto his stomach. His legs were still open. Timmy couldn’t look away from his rounded cheeks, the swell of his balls underneath. He imagined Armie’s cock filling out with the friction from the mattress, maybe leaving a little wet patch of precome on the sheets.

Fuck . The shower turned off and he bolted. Not trusting himself to climb the ladder to his room with an aching boner, Timmy scurried past the living room and shut himself into the tiny pantry. They kept logs in there for the fireplace. He shoved his trousers down to his ankles and took himself in hand, braced his arm against the door, resting his forehead against the damp wood as he fucked his fist. 

He thought about Armie waking up, smiling as he invited him to bed with open arms, his massive cock hard and leaking, ready to bury itself in Timmy’s ass. 

He came hard, gasping. “Fuck,” his release dribbled down the door and puddled on the flagstones. He tucked himself away, looked around for something to clean up with. After minutes of frenzied searching, he settled for dabbing his come off the paintwork with a few dead leaves that had blown in under the door. He frowned as he stuffed them under some of the logs. Gross .

He opened the door, wiping his hands on the bottom of his shirt.

“Hey buddy,” Armie stood by the stove, dressed, now, in dark jeans and a grey t-shirt, “what’re you doing in there?”

Timmy froze, mouth drier than week old sourdough, his cheeks hot enough to fry eggs. After several minutes of not answering , he pushed past Armie and ran up to his room, almost slipping as he scrambled up the ladder. 

Fuuuccck no. Fuck fuck no. How could he look at Armie now? It was only the second day! He had a whole week to go, knowing what he looked like under those tight jeans and soft cotton shirts. A whole week of sitting next to him on the couch and knowing how fucking huge his dick was. Knowing how thick his pubes were, how hard his nipples got. Unbearable. He buried himself under the covers, face in the pillow. He could fake an illness, make Pauline drive him home. No, that wasn’t fair. It was her vacation too. Her boyfriend he was perving on. Grow up, Timmy, he chastised himself. He doesn’t even know you were jacking it in there. 

“Tim?” Armie’s voice, soft from the bottom of the ladder, “You OK?”

“Fine,” Timmy lifted his head out of his blanket fort, “just waiting for the bathroom.”

“Oh. Erm. OK. I think it’s free now. You can use it before me.”


“No problem.”

Heavy footsteps as Armie wandered off. Timmy faceplanted the pillow again.


The whole day was like torture. They went for a hike, Timmy stared at Armie’s ass. They ate a picnic, Timmy stared at Armie’s crotch. Armie took his shirt off, Timmy went behind the nearest tree. Ridiculous. He retreated to his room until early in the evening, whining to Saoirse by text every time he got a tiny bit of signal. Her intermittent comfort was enough to calm him down. He hugged the phone against his chest.

At 6pm Pauline shouted up that they were having a barbeque, and could he actually contribute, please? He chopped up veggies for the skewers, washed the salad, helped Armie scrape the crud off the grill. 

“Wow, Tim. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

Timmy squirmed away from her condescending forehead kisses. “I’m not a kid.”

Armie just laughed, poking the charcoal with a long fork, “You’ll do well in college if you know all this household shit. Chicks dig that.”

Pauline rolled her eyes. So did Timmy.

“Fuck, you guys did that at the same time,” Armie shook his head, laughing to himself. 

Pauline gave Timmy a little squeeze and went back inside. 


The food was delicious. They ate outside, watching the sunset until the flies became too aggravating. Armie let Tim have a couple of beers, leaving him pleasantly mellow and fuzzy-relaxed. They sat on the sofa, chatting about everything until Pauline yawned loudly, announced she was going to bed.

Armie fetched more beer. Timmy let his fingers linger on the back of Armie’s hand when he passed it over. They shared a smile. Timmy’s phone pinged in his pocket. A meme from Saoirse. He smirked as he put his phone away.

“What’s so funny?” Armie prodded him with his toes, his legs pulled up underneath him on the other end of the sofa.

“Oh, just my friend sending stupid shit.”

“Friend?” Armie poked him again.

Timmy blushed, “Yeah, she’s just a friend.”

“Is that by design or through circumstance?”


“Do you like her? Is she not into you?”

Timmy took a sip of his beer, “Other way around.”

“Oh shit,” Armie giggled.

“It’s OK. She’s cool with” he cut himself off with another sip.


“With the fact that I’m not into...That.” He could feel Armie’s eyes on him. It made him want to babble. “I don’t date... Girls . A whole lot. I don’t. I mean, um. I’m not…There’s someone that I like, but...”

“I get it,” Armie smiled at him, “better than most would, actually.”

“So you? Wait,” Timmy sat up, cross legged, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Armie had gone very red. He cast his eyes up to the ceiling, embarrassed laughter bubbling in his throat as he nodded.

Timmy leaned forward, wide eyed, “But you’re dating my sister.”

“That, too.”

“So, you’re bi?”

Armie shrugged, “I guess. For me it’s always been about the person, y’know? Not what attachments they come with.”

Timmy had never loved anyone as much as he loved Armie in that moment. Maybe it was the crackling fireplace, or the beer messing with his head, but all of a sudden he just couldn’t care about anything other than the feeling of Armie’s lips against his own. He lunged across the sofa into Armie’s lap, kissed him with everything he had. It was clumsy, and wet, and Armie’s hands were on his chest, pushing him away.

“It’s you,” Timmy mumbled, “I like you so much, please,” he kissed him again. 

Armie indulged him for all of two seconds before he was pushing him off, standing up from the sofa, rubbing his hair into erratic spikes, “Fuck, Tim. What the fuck?!”

Timmy brought his fingers to his lips, the reality of what he’d just done making his stomach swoop, “‘m sorry,” his voice was small, childlike.

“I can’t believe you just,” Armie gestured between them, “I need to go to bed.”

“I’m really sorry,” Timmy was on the verge of tears, “I’m so drunk. Can we just forget it?”

Armie sighed, headed for the door, “Goodnight, Tim.”


Armie didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

Timmy didn’t sleep much. He sat by the fireplace long into the night, watching the dying embers until the unseasonable cold drove him to bed. Sleep was restless and fitful. He could still taste Armie on his lips. 

When morning finally came, the sky was overcast and dark, threatening rain. Timmy sat on the edge of the bed, working up the courage to go downstairs. Suddenly he heard a bang,  like something knocked over, raised voices from his sister’s room. He scrambled down the ladder in a panic. Had Armie told her about him?

He ran into the living room, heart in his throat. Pauline rushed past him on her way to the door, a duffle bag flung haphazardly over her shoulder.

“Pauline?!” He grabbed her arm, forced her to turn around.

Her eyes were red and puffy, like she’d been crying hard, “Armie broke up with me.”

“What?” Timmy stood dumbfounded, his bare feet cold on the flagstone floor.

“Just now. He was quiet when he came to bed and then this morning he said we needed to talk and” a fresh round of sobs cut her off. 

“Fuck,” Timmy hugged her, rubbed her back as she buried her face in his shoulder. A sick little part of him was relieved that she didn’t know.

“I need to get away from him,” Pauline sniffed as she pulled away, “I’m sorry, Tim,” she headed for the door again, “you’ll be OK here, right?”

“Wait!” Timmy put his arm out to stop her, “Why can’t he leave?”

Pauline shook her head, “I...I gotta go. I’m sorry. You’ll just have to forgive me.”

Timmy watched her drive away, hugging himself against the chill of the wind. He dressed quickly and pulled on his walking boots. Armie’s door remained firmly closed. 


He’d been walking for about an hour before he realised he had no water bottle, no food, no plan. He sat down on a tree stump and pulled out his phone. No service either. Fuck. He tried to clear his head, think rationally about his next move. 

Damage control. Talk to Armie. Get them back together. He’d get over his crush. He had to. Why had Armie dumped her over one stupid kiss? Did he really feel that guilty? Or was it something else? Thunder rolled in the distance. Timmy looked upwards, the first droplets of rain tickling his face. 


He got back to the cabin soaked to the skin, his thin black jumper plastered to his trembling frame. His hair covered his face in icy tendrils. Wasn’t it supposed to be summer? Armie was waiting in the kitchen, watching the storm through the open window. 

“Jesus,” He hurried over to Timmy, held his face in both hands, "You need some dry clothes.”

“In my room. I’ll”

“I’ll get them. Go get dry, there are fresh towels on the rack.”

Timmy shuffled into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him. He peeled off his wet jeans and dropped them into the bath. His jumper and socks followed. Then his boxers. He wrapped himself in a fluffy towel and sat on the closed toilet lid, fighting back the tears. 

“Tim?” Armie knocked softly on the door, “Your clothes are out here when you want them.”

“Thanks,” Timmy mumbled. He sat for a few minutes longer before he opened the door a crack, just enough to reach through and grab his stuff. Armie had picked out a green checkered shirt and some grey jeans, his thickest socks with the red stripe around the ankle, navy blue boxers. Timmy gulped. The thought of Armie touching something that would then be touching him , touching him there . It was such a small, insignificant thing, but it made his cheeks burn. He pinched his arm hard. Fucking stop it.


Armie was making coffee. He held up a mug. 

Timmy shook his head, “Did you break up with Pauline because of me?”

Armie stopped stirring. He sighed as he hunched his shoulders, “Would you be happier if I said no?”

“Fuck,” Timmy choked back a sob, “I woulda backed off, man. Even walked the fuck home if that would’ve made things better.”

“You're shivering,” Armie grabbed a tea towel off the stove and rubbed Timmy’s hair with it, gently patted down his neck and shoulders.

Timmy let him do it, too cold and miserable to protest. “I love my sister, OK? It was one fucking mistake. I didn’t mean to mess things up between you two.”

Armie kissed him, softly and without warning, holding his arms by his sides. When Tim didn’t reciprocate, he pulled away, gazing down at him with a tentative smile.

“Take it back.”

The smile vanished, “What?”

“Take it back. I’d take mine back, if I could.”


“This is wrong, Armie. I can’t.”

“OK,” Armie stepped back, folded his arms, “that’s...Fine. I take it back. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

They didn’t look at each other. 

“We should get outta here.”

Timmy laughed without humour, “Nearest town is a day’s hike. In this,” he gestured out of the window. 

Armie frowned, rubbed a hand over his chin, “Looks like we’re staying put, then.”

“Yep,” Timmy forced his face into something other than a miserable pout, but he couldn’t hold it. He walked off into the living room instead, flopped down on the sofa.

Armie came in a few minutes later. He stood, looking down at Timmy as he ran his hands along the wooden backrest, “Why did you run away this morning?”

“Needed space.”

Armie sighed, “That’s what Pauline said, too.”

Timmy scowled up at him, “It was really fucking shitty, what you did.”

“Yeah, and kissing your sister’s boyfriend. What a class act.”

“Fuck you. I already told you I was out of it.”

Armie scoffed, pushed away from the sofa, “Grow up, Tim.” He disappeared into his room. Timmy winced as the door slammed behind him.


It was dark by the time Armie ventured out, holding a plaid blanket nervously in front of his chest. “Thought you might be cold.”

Timmy hadn’t moved off the sofa. He paused the DVD he’d just started watching, gave Armie a weak smile, “Thanks.” He took the blanket from him and carefully unfolded it, draping it over himself and tucking in the corners.

“Do you want a sandwich or something?” Armie rocked back and forth on his heels, making the floorboards creak.

“Um, yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

Timmy kept the movie paused until Armie came back, haphazardly balancing two plates of sandwiches and a bottle of Coke.

“What’re we watching?”

“Forrest Gump,” Timmy took a bite of sandwich.

Armie pulled a face.

“Sorry,” Timmy shrugged, “there’s not much choice here.”

“It’s fine. Haven’t seen it in years anyway.”

They ate in silence for awhile. Armie stretched out, put his feet on the coffee table. Timmy offered him some blanket and he took it, smoothing it down over his long legs. “This is a really depressing movie.”

“Thank you!” Timmy grinned at him, “I always fucking say that but Mom loves it.”

“She treats him like shit!”

“I know!”

“He deserved better.”

“I know!”

It was nice, laughing together like this. Timmy felt some of the tension lift from his shoulders. He snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up under his chin.

“You still cold?”

“A little.”

“Come here,” Armie lifted his arm in invitation. 

Timmy bit his bottom lip. Cuddling on the sofa? Should he? Armie had started to look embarrassed. Timmy leaned into his side just as he was about to drop his arm.

“Better now?” Armie smiled, pulled him closer.

Timmy nodded. God, this felt good. He was completely surrounded, lost in Armie, in his smell, his warmth, his touch. He brought his palm up to rest against Armie’s chest. Armie stroked his arm in lazy circles. They were nearly at the end of the movie. A flash of lightning cut the TV off with a pop. Timmy looked up, startled, and Armie captured his lips, his stubble tickling Timmy’s chin. The kiss was soft, but demanding, Armie’s tongue teasing his lower lip until Timmy opened his mouth to him, letting him in with a quiet moan. 

Armie pulled away first. He cupped Timmy’s face, traced his thumb against his sharp cheekbone, “Tell me to stop.”

Timmy kissed him again, shuffling up onto his knees to find a better angle. Their tongues slid together. He grabbed fistfulls of Armie’s hair. Armie held his wrist, guided Timmy’s hand down between his legs. 

“Fuuuck,” Timmy panted as he ran his palm over Armie’s thick length, staring openly at the bulge it made in his jeans. His own cock throbbed in sympathy, already making a mess of his underwear.

Armie claimed his mouth again, spreading his legs and pushing up against Timmy’s hand. He broke the kiss to fumble with the button on Timmy’s jeans. Timmy hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and shoved them down to bunch up around his thighs. 

“Oh fuck me,” Armie murmured, swiping his thumb through the wet stain on Timmy’s boxers, “did you come already?”

“No,” Timmy blushed furiously as he looked down at himself, “I just, ah, when I’m excited I get very, erm.”

Armie rubbed his thumb in tight circles, creating delicious friction on the head of Timmy’s cock, “Are you wet for me?”

Timmy nodded, digging his fingers into Armie’s thigh. 

Armie kissed his lips, “You are so fucking sexy,” kiss, “why don’t you show me your room?” Kiss, “Hmm?” Kiss, “I could lick you clean.”

Timmy let out a shuddery breath, closing his eyes as Armie’s lips moved to his neck, his collarbone, “Yessss.”


He climbed the ladder to his bedroom with Armie close behind. “Sorry,” he hastily remade the bed, “it’s kind of a mess.” He flicked the light switch on and off to no avail. Luckily his fairy lights had batteries. Little beads of colour strung through the low wooden ceiling beams. It was kinda romantic.

Armie pulled him into a hug, his arms low on Timmy’s waist “It’s perfect,” he kissed Timmy’s forehead. 

Timmy tugged on the hem of his shirt, his eyes everywhere but Armie.

"Hey," Armie rubbed his back, "what's wrong? You seemed into it, before."

"I am," Timmy met his gaze, his eyes wide and a little panicked, "I'm so fucking into it, it's just, Pauline."

Armie lifted his chin with two fingers, "We broke up. I'm not cheating on her."

"I know, but…"

Armie raised his eyebrows in question.

"I feel so guilty,” Timmy admitted, his cheeks glowing pink, “I want you so much."

"You're allowed to want me,” Armie entwined their fingers, “I'm allowed to want you. I'm sorry I hurt her, but not saying anything would've been worse, don't you think?"

Timmy made a non-committal noise and shrugged. 

"Timmy," Armie let his hand slide, down into the waistband of Timmy's jeans, "I wanna make you feel good. I wanna play with you, explore every inch of you."

Timmy whimpered as he rocked into Armie’s touch.

“Do you want that, too?”

Timmy nodded. He slid his hands under Armie’s t shirt, slowly pushing it up to reveal his flat stomach, the v of his hip bones, “Wanna see you.”

Armie lifted his shirt over his head, smiling when Timmy’s mouth went straight to his chest, kissing and licking him all over.

They undressed quickly and stood facing each other, Timmy looking away, his hands clasped in front of his erection. Armie stepped closer, gently moving Timmy’s hands to rest by his sides as he looked him over, “Gorgeous.”

Timmy huffed out an embarrassed laugh, “Not really.” He felt spindly, small next to Armie’s large frame. 

Armie hugged him again. His hands were everywhere, his back, his arms, tangled in his hair. Timmy reached around to squeeze Armie’s ass, pulling him close until his cotton covered crotch was pressed up against his own naked cock. 

“Please take these off,” he tugged at the elastic. 

Armie indulged him, pulling his boxers down at a teasing pace. His cock bounced free, long and thick, straining upwards. Timmy made a little noise in the back of his throat. His early morning peep show had given him a pretty good idea of what Armie was packing, but hard he was something else. 

They kissed again, more heated this time, more insistent. Armie placed Timmy’s hands on his chest. “You can touch me everywhere,” he nuzzled Timmy’s neck, “I want you to.”

“Fuck,” Timmy pinched his nipple, smiling when Armie jerked forwards. His cock nudged Timmy’s hip. “Can we lay down?”


They crawled into bed with Armie on top, their lips barely parting. Timmy looped his arms around Armie's neck, revelling in the comforting, warm weight of him. He lifted his knees up either side of Armie’s hips. Armie reached between them, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks and stroking lazily. Timmy threw his head back as a long, low whine escaped his throat. 

“You like that?”

“Fuuuck. Yeah. Don’t stop.”

Armie chuckled. His thumb grazed Timmy's slit.

“Oh God!” Timmy writhed against the mattress, his eyes shut tight. 

Armie let go, his hand resting on the slight bulge of Timmy’s  tummy instead, “You’re so tense.”

Timmy blinked at him, his face hot and red.

“I think you need a nice, relaxing blow job.”

Timmy keened. Armie settled himself between Timmy’s thighs, holding his gaze as he licked a long stripe up his cock, flicked his tongue over the head. 

“Do it,” Timmy held himself at the base, his hands trembling as he guided his swollen tip between Armie’s lips, "please?"

Armie hummed as he took him in, sliding down as low as he could before pulling back up and sucking hard. Timmy flopped back onto the bed, letting go of his cock to grab and pull his own hair. He was so close. So fucking close to shooting his load already. He squeezed Armie’s shoulder, “Gonna...Gonna come. Stop.”

Strings of spit dribbled down Timmy’s shaft as Armie let him drop from his mouth, “That’s the idea.”


He resumed bobbing on Timmy’s cock, faster now, hollowing out his cheeks. Timmy’s face scrunched up as he tried to hold it back. Armie smiled around his mouthful. He fondled Timmy’s balls, cupping them, lifting them up to slide his fingers over the sensitive skin beneath. Timmy came with a loud cry, his legs shaking as he pulsed and twitched, filling Armie’s mouth with his release. 

Armie sucked him through it, only letting up when Timmy’s whimpers became pained. He rolled over to lay on his back. Timmy snuggled up to him, his head resting on his chest. Armie played with his hair.

“Thank you.”

Armie cringed at the ceiling, “Don’t thank me for sucking your dick.”

Timmy giggled, nuzzling anywhere he could reach, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say,” he tilted his head up for a kiss, completely love drunk and floaty.

Armie stroked his ear, his voice quiet, gentle, “Was that your first time?”

Timmy nodded.

“I thought so. Did you like it?”

“I fucking loved it,” Timmy climbed on top of him, trailed kisses down his throat, “but I need to confess something.”

“Go on,” Armie rubbed his back.

“I saw you naked before tonight.”


“You left your door open the other day. I saw everything.”

Armie huffed out a laugh, “And what did you think?”

“I thought you were the sexiest man I’d ever seen,” he flicked his tongue over Armie’s nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a slight scrape of teeth. 

“Fuck, Tim,” Armie growled, “love that. So sensitive.”

Timmy smiled, proud of himself for finding something Armie liked. He gave the other nipple the same treatment before moving lower, delighting in the way Armie’s stomach muscles clenched under his soft lips. 

“Can I?” He licked the tip of Armie’s cock without waiting for a reply. 

Armie groaned and opened his legs wider. Timmy stared. He could hardly make his fingers meet. He opened his mouth a little wider. 

Delicious. Timmy closed his eyes so that he could savour it, moaning at the bitter salt, the stretch in his jaw. He sucked and licked enthusiastically until Armie eased him off. 

Timmy sat up, legs crossed. He scratched the back of his neck, “Was it not good?”

“It was so good,” Armie squeezed his knee, “but, um,” he licked his lips, “I’d like to do more. If you want to.”

Timmy’s cock was hard again. He swallowed thickly, “How much more?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“What if I want everything?”

Armie half laughed, half groaned as he pressed his palms into his eyes. He sat up too, placed a gentle kiss on Timmy’s shoulder. 

“I don’t have lube,” Timmy blurted out, burying his face in his knees when Armie started laughing.

“That’s OK. Neither do I.”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not!” Armie wrapped him up in a hug, “I just don’t get how you can be so fucking sexy and so fucking adorable at the same time.”

Timmy pretended to squirm away, but Armie trapped him in his strong arms. They mock wrestled on the bed until Armie was on top again, his hips flush against Timmy’s, their breathing strained. 

“There’s Vaseline in the bathroom.”


Armie all but ran down to get it. Timmy lay on his back, teasing with loose, slow strokes. We’re gonna fuck, he moaned at the thought, working himself up even more. You’re gonna feel him inside you. 

"Fuck, that's a visual," Armie stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips. His eager dick bobbed with every movement.

Timmy didn't stop touching himself. "What?" His face was the picture of innocence. 

Armie scoffed fondly as he spooned up behind him. Timmy tilted his head back for a needy kiss, Armie’s stubble rough against his jaw, his fingers slick between his cheeks. He turned away, pulled the duvet to his mouth, needed to bite, to ground himself as Armie eased him open. One finger, in and out until he was nearly mad from it, then two. The stretch was intense. 


Armie sucked a bite into his neck, “Soon.”


“Soon. I promise.”

Timmy whined, rocked his hips back to fuck himself on Armie’s fingers. His cock drooled all over his thigh, “Please!”

“One more.”


“Tim,” Armie stilled his fingers, his tone serious, “my cock is wider than my fingers. It’s gonna hurt like hell if you don’t let me do this properly.”

Timmy huffed and pouted, “Fiiiine.”

Armie pushed his tongue into his mouth, cuddled him to his chest, “We’re gonna fuck all night, don’t worry.”


Armie pulled his fingers out of Timmy’s twitching hole and reached forwards to cup his balls, “Still so swollen,” he nuzzled Timmy’s neck, “so full, baby. Do you need to come again?”

“Yes please.”

“Will you be good now?”

“Want your cock.”

“So demanding,” he pushed three fingers in to the hilt, making Timmy gasp as stars exploded behind his eyelids.

“Yeah?” Armie sounded smug. 

“Fuck,” Timmy sobbed. He curled up until he was almost on his stomach.

“OK,” Armie sat up, “I think we’re good.” 

They settled in the middle of the bed, Armie sitting, Tim straddling his lap. He reached back to guide Armie’s cock to his entrance, his eyelids fluttering closed as the head nudged inside. Their lips met in a heated kiss. Armie held him open, lifting him up and down like he weighed nothing, encouraging Timmy to take more and more until he was buried deep. They licked into each other’s mouths.

Timmy hugged Armie close as he bounced on his cock, thigh muscles straining, fingernails leaving little half moon marks in the padding of Armie’s shoulders. All the porn in the world couldn’t have prepared him for this. Every inch of skin was electrified, over-sensitised, pulled taut. His nipples were hard little buds, setting his teeth on edge as they scraped against Armie’s chest. Armie soothed each one with soft kisses, swipes on his tongue. He alternated between pulling Timmy’s hair and rubbing his back, his commentary getting more and more filthy until Timmy couldn’t take it anymore.

He reached between them to work his cock, closing his eyes and moaning as he matched his rhythm to Armie’s thrusts.

Armie stopped completely. He cocked an eyebrow, amused at Timmy’s furious expression, “Who said you could touch yourself?”

Timmy tried to get things going again, but Armie held his hips to still him, “No.”

“Armiieeee!” Timmy whined, wriggling in his lap.

Armie smacked his ass, “Stop being a brat.”

Timmy’s eyes darkened. He leaned down to Armie’s mouth, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, pulling ever so slightly, “Make me.”

Armie growled as he pulled out, lifting Timmy off him, “On your knees.”

Timmy nearly toppled over in his eagerness to comply. Armie smoothed his hands over his rump, kneading his cheeks and holding him open as he slipped his cock back inside. Timmy scrabbled, clutching the bedsheets like an anchor. He wheezed, all the air squeezed from his lungs to make room for Armie’s massive cock. He started to thrust hard, his grunts mingling with Timmy’s yelps to create the most glorious cacophony. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he gripped Timmy’s hips, “come for me. Please baby. I Can’t…” He pitched forward, hips stuttering.

Timmy felt it start, felt Armie’s cock throbbing deep inside him. He shoved his hand underneath himself and frantically fucked his own fist. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck,” Armie groaned, helpless, “fuck, Tim, there’s so much.”

He hadn’t even finished and his come was dripping out already, trickling between Timmy’s thighs, soaking his balls. He rubbed his thumb around Timmy’s stretched rim, pushing his come back inside at the base of his cock. Timmy came, panting and sweating, sobbing into the duvet as he shot thick and hot. 

He clung to Armie for long moments afterwards, overwhelmed and in love, completely unable to speak. Thunder rumbled, far off in the distance as the storm passed overhead.


Chapter Text

Warmth. Unfamiliar warmth against his back, his legs. Comforting, possessive weight across his stomach. A low down ache like a cramp, twinging when he rolled over.

Timmy stirred, realisation slowly dawning as the last tendrils of sleep slipped away from him. Armie. Armie’s body, warm against his own. Armie’s arm holding him close. Armie’s cock inside him last night. 

He sat up, groggy. The storm had passed, leaving bright sunlight in its wake. Their clothes were strewn everywhere, dirty sheets bunched up at the bottom of the bed. The Vaseline pot had fallen over on the nightstand. Panic crested like a wave, knocking the air from his lungs.

“Oh fuck,” his throat felt scratchy, “oh fuck, Armie. Wake up,” he shook his shoulders, “please please wake up.”

“Huh? Wha?” Armie rolled over onto his back, face scrunched up against the light, “Timmy?”

“Fuck,” Timmy huddled himself into a little ball, knees drawn up to his chest. 

“Tim?” Armie was awake now, and full of concern, “Are you OK?”

Timmy sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his arm, “I don’t know.”

“Does it hurt? If you wanna use the bathroom I could come with you, or”

Timmy burst into tears, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh shit,” Armie pulled him into a hug, fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, “shhhh, it’s alright.”

“No it’s not!” Timmy sobbed harder, “She’s gonna fucking hate me.”

“OK, sshhh, calm down. Deep breaths. Can you do that?”

Timmy choked on the inhale. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He tried again. His hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Armie kissed the top of his head, “I’m sorry. She’ll never find out, OK? I promise.”

“Please don’t tell her.”

“I won’t. I won’t tell anybody. We can keep this just between us, if that's what you want.”

Timmy nodded, “Are you gonna go back with her?”


He pulled Armie’s mouth to his, surprising himself with his desperation.

They finally left the bed around noon, full bladders and empty tummies forcing them down the ladder, wrapped in blankets. They showered together, laughing when a loud squelch confirmed Timmy’s clothes were still in the tub. Armie washed Timmy’s hair. They kissed everywhere, hands exploring until the water ran cold.

Towels replaced blankets. Armie made scrambled eggs. They had just dozed off on the sofa when a loud bang woke them. 

The old door, caught in the wind and creaking on its hinges. Pauline on the other side.

“Timmy?” She looked from one to the other, “What’s happening?”

Timmy cringed as he looked down. They were still in their towels, hadn’t even bothered with underwear.

“Armie?” Her eyes were already wet, “Are you? Is he?”

“Pauline, listen,” Armie stood up, held out his hand to placate her.

She backed away, turned to face Timmy, “Are you fucking him?” 

Timmy didn’t answer. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even meet her gaze.

“We broke up,” Armie swallowed hard, clenched his jaw. His knuckles were white where he gripped the towel, “nothing happened with Timmy before that.”

Pauline rounded on him, her eyes wide in disbelief, “And you think that makes it OK? That you waited, what? A whole ten hours to get balls deep in my brother?!”

Armie scrubbed a hand over his face, anger and embarrassment making him sweat. Timmy started to cry. 

Pauline rolled her eyes, “You know, I got about two hours down the road and I actually started to feel sorry for you. I thought it was petty to abandon you here. So I paid fifty bucks for a shitty motel room and waited out the storm so I could drive us all back. I can’t believe I actually felt guilty for leaving you, and you were” she swallowed, like the thought of it made her heave, “well. Fuck you.”

Armie tried to chase after her, but the Impala's tyres were already kicking up dust before he reached the path. Timmy watched him walk back to the cabin, towel clad and pathetic, guilt sour in his throat. He flinched away from Armie’s touch.

“Tim, please,” Armie’s voice was soft, desperate.

Timmy shook his head, “I don’t know what to do now.”

Armie pulled him into a hug, “It’ll be OK. She just needs time to cool off.”

Timmy’s arms stayed by his side, “I think it’s more than that. I’ve never seen her that mad. I’m really scared, Armie.”

“It’ll be OK,” Armie kissed his forehead, “let’s go back to bed.”

Timmy stepped back, incredulous.

“Just to sleep,” Armie held up his palms in surrender, “we’re both exhausted.”

“Can you stay in your room?” Timmy mumbled, eyes downcast and miserable.

Armie swallowed, vulnerability flashing across his face until his walls were back up, fake smile and all, “Sure. Whatever you need.”


Timmy lay on his back, scowling at the fairy lights. He didn’t fuck up. Ever. He was a straight A student, good friend, thoughtful, honest. How had one guy screwed up his life so fucking badly? First he’d hurt Sersh, than Pauline, now Armie probably hated him as well. He’d sent him to his room like a child because he couldn’t handle the guilt of taking what he wanted. 

He flopped onto his side. There was a dip in the pillow where Armie’s head had been. Visions from the previous night flooded Timmy’s memory. So good. It had been so fucking good between them. Perfect, even, and Armie had been so kind to him the next morning. He sat bolt upright, flung off the covers before he lost his nerve.

He found Armie in the hallway, leaning against the wall and chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at the ladder as he weighed his options. Timmy held out his hand, and Armie took it.


Morning came all too quickly. Armie flopped onto his side of the bed like a seal, settled on top of Timmy with his full weight. Timmy groaned.

“Get offff!”

“Mmmmm,” Armie wriggled, smushing him further into the mattress.

“You’re too big!” Timmy giggled, flailing helplessly under Armie’s soft bulk.

Armie relented with a heavy sigh, lifted himself up on his elbows. He kissed Timmy’s cheek, his nose, his lips. Timmy huffed out a laugh.

“There,” another kiss, “I knew I could make you smile today.” He kissed along the line of Timmy’s jaw. Timmy tilted his head to one side, giving Armie better access to his neck. Their half hard cocks rubbed against each other. Timmy let out a quiet moan.

“Mmmm, good morning,” Armie rolled his hips.

Timmy’s mind flashed to Pauline’s face, confused and hurt, eyelashes stuck together with tears. “Fuck, stop,” he pushed Armie away from him, “fucking stop!”

“OK, OK,” Armie held up his hand, “I’m stopping.”

Timmy pressed his palms into his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Armie brushed a curl from his temple.

Timmy’s breath shuddered out of him, “We need to get out of here.”

“Agreed. Let’s get some breakfast, pack up. You said it was a day’s hike, right?”


“It’s already 9:30.”

“Shit,” Timmy sat up, “we should get going.”


He declined a shared shower, much to Armie’s disappointment. It didn’t take long to tidy up and pack their stuff. They ate breakfast together, did the dishes. Timmy scowled at their duffle bags waiting by the door. The clarity of last night had fucked off again, and now he just felt wretched. “Can’t we just fucking stay here?” He kicked the table leg, tears making his vision blurry, “I don’t wanna go back.”

Armie sighed, “It’s gonna get worse the longer we stay away. Once we get home we can talk all of this out, and”

Timmy snorted without humour, “‘Talk this out?’ Seriously? My sister fucking hates us,” he angrily shoved his curls out of his face, “and I think she has every right to. We messed up.”

“I didn’t cheat on her.”

“Yeah, but you might as well have. You don’t get off on a technicality.”

Armie frowned at him, “You kissed me. You started it. You invited me back into your bed last night.”

“I know, OK? And I feel terrible. I’m kinda worried about the fact that you don’t.”

Armie shook his head, “Timmy,” he held his face in both hands, sweeping away his tears with the pads of his thumbs, “I have a great apartment in the city, but I spent every weekend for the last month at your house.”

Timmy blinked, didn’t understand.

Armie sighed, “I gave up my Friday nights to write essays with you. I drove across town to get takeout from that place you mentioned one time . I wore the black shirt cos you said you liked it.”

Still nothing. Armie’s eyes were so soft, he almost looked sad, “It’s you. Don’t you get it? Ever since you answered the door that day, it’s been you. I just didn't know what to do about it,” he blushed, looked away, “until you kissed me.”

Timmy leaned closer, smiling through his tears, "Do you know now?" 

Armie brushed their noses together, "I hope so."


They hiked all day, only stopping for breaks when their bags became too heavy, the air too stifling. It was tough going. Hawthorn snarled at their ankles, and the forest floor was still damp and mulchy from the storm. Timmy slipped over repeatedly, growing more and more irritated with every fall. Armie brushed him down each time, kissing away his aggravation. They decided holding hands was safer.

The trees started to thin out just as the sky was turning pinky gold.

“Wooo! Pylons!” Armie fist pumped the air, “Back to civilisation, thank God!”

Timmy’s phone started pinging incessantly, downloading all the messages that hadn’t reached him in the woods.


18:37 SR: OMG you’re home!! I’m coming over.

19:10 SR: OK so wtf is going on? P’s car is in your driveway but you’re not there??? I called round for you and she slammed the door in my face. WHAT IS GOING ON??

19:30 SR: Timothee. Answer.

20:30 SR: Answer.

20.32 SR: Call me when you get these messages. 

21:00 SR: Are you with HIM??


Timmy slid his phone back into his pocket, “Pauline’s home.”

“Oh? Did she text you?”

“No. Sersh.”


They walked in silence for awhile, the terrain levelling out into smooth tarmac. Eventually they reached a gas station, and Armie went inside for supplies while Timmy sat on the curb, drawing patterns in the dust with a sharp stick. He came back with bottled water and an armful of candy bars. Timmy unwrapped a Snickers as they headed towards town. 

“Are the trains any good?” Armie took a swig from one of the water bottles. Timmy tried not to watch the muscles working in his throat.

“I think there are like, three per day, or something.”

“Wow. That’s awful.”

“Yeah. Good job you bought snacks.”


The wait was tedious, the journey even more so. Timmy snuggled up to Armie and fell asleep against his shoulder. When the train jolted him awake he was pressed against cold glass instead. He blinked, disorientated.

Armie leaned in close, “We were getting funny looks from those guys up there,” he gestured towards the front of the carriage, “I didn’t want any shit so I moved you off me. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Timmy smiled, “Sorry.”

Armie stroked his knee under the table, “Stupid fuckers. I’d kiss you if I could.”


It was late when Timmy finally got home. He went straight to bed, too tired to face his mother’s questions, her disappointment. He called Saoirse and promised to tell her everything on pain of death. Armie texted him to say goodnight. He fell asleep with the phone clutched to his chest.


He snuck out of the house before anyone was up. Saoirse yawned as she opened the door.

“Tim? What time is it?” She pulled down the hem on her dalmatians nightshirt.

He flung his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, “I fucked up.”

She stroked his back, “Tell me.”

“Not here,” Timmy sniffed, “can we go get breakfast?”


Tea and french toast came and went.

“Right. Spill it, Chalamet.”

Timmy sighed, peeling at the label on his orange juice bottle, “OK, so, I got kinda drunk the second night and, um, I kissed Armie.”


An older couple turned to look at them. Saoirse smiled brightly, her cheeks pink, “I mean, please go on.”

“At first I thought he was gonna be really pissed at me. He told me he was bi, but like, he wasn’t single . So yeah. I thought he was gonna tell Pauline and it was gonna be a big old mess.”

“But he didn’t?”

“No. He broke up with her the next day.”

“For real?”

“We had sex the same night.”


“I know” Timmy cringed, “I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

Saoirse opened her mouth, thought for a moment, closed it again. “How was he?”

“Fucking unbelievable.”

“And it was your first?”


“Did you come?”



“I know,” Timmy held his head in his hands.

“So are you guys like, together now?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t told you the worst part yet.”


“Pauline left after they broke up, but she came back and um, she caught us naked on the sofa.”


The old couple turned around again. Saoirse waved. 

“I hate myself,” Timmy face planted the plastic tablecloth. Saoirse petted his head.


Pauline’s bed was covered in boxes. She was sorting her books, stacking them neatly. Timmy knocked on the doorframe.

Her face fell as she turned around, “Oh. What do you want?”

“Why are you packing?”

“I decided to head back to Cali a few weeks early. No reason to stick around this shit hole.”

Timmy stuffed his hands in his pockets, embarrassed, "Does Mom know? About what happened?"

"Yeah, I told her, so, enjoy that conversation."

Timmy sighed, "I guess I deserve that," he fiddled with the door lock, pushing the metal in and out, “I wanted to say I’m sorry. Me and Armie...We...It never should’ve happened.”

“Hmm,” she didn’t look up from her packing, “are you going to date him?”

Timmy scratched the back of his neck, ran his toe across the carpet, “I don’t know. It’s messy, y’know? And I’m leaving for college soon. If I get in.”

Pauline sighed heavily, “Look, it’s obvious that you guys like each other. Really fucking obvious, actually. So, it’s OK if you want to date him.”

“Liar,” Timmy snorted, “no-one’s that well adjusted.”

Pauline smiled sadly, “I’m definitely not.”

“Do you still love me?” 

Silence stretched between them.

“You’re my brother.”

“Yeah, but, do you like me?”

“Timmy, honestly?” She finally looked at him, “Right now I can’t stand the sight of you.”

Chapter Text

Are you fucking him?

Timmy stirred, frowning in his sleep.

Oh, and that makes it OK?

He wanted to shout no, no it fucking doesn’t, I’m sorry, but his mouth wouldn’t move.

I can’t stand the sight of you.

Timmy woke with a start, disorientated. His alarm clock blinked angry red. Two hours. He’d slept for two hours.

“An hour more than last night,” he mumbled, sitting up to gulp down some water from the glass by his bed. 

He missed Pauline. They hadn’t spoken for three days, not even a hello at breakfast. She spent her days packing and her nights out with friends. Every Insta pic showed a different guy, each one purposefully looking nothing like Armie.

Armie. Timmy dialed his number a hundred times a day and ended the call before it connected, his sister’s tears fresh in his mind, his betrayal playing in a loop until it forced the phone out of his hand, sometimes hurled at the bed in frustration. 

Fuck. He settled back onto his side, sweat soaked t-shirt cloying and uncomfortable. He wanted something to cuddle. His soft toys had lived in the attic for a long time, safely packed in an old suitcase. He wondered how much noise it would make to climb up there and get one, maybe the turtle, or the kissing lion cubs. He shook himself, immediately dismissing the idea as ridiculous. Grown ass man, remember?

He swung his leg out of the blankets. Hmmm. He rolled his duvet into a sausage shape, snuggled up to it like a Koala. It was bulky enough to be a passable Armie substitute, though nowhere near as warm. He buried his face into it.


Wednesday merged into Thursday, into Friday. He met Saoirse for ice cream but she sent him home, her forehead creasing in concern as she studied the bags under his eyes. He wandered the house like a ghost, unsettled, lonely, gazes passing right through him. 

By Saturday he had reached breaking point. Duvet Armie was nice to hug, but real Armie had stopped texting him. It was 6:30pm. Jack had just picked Nicole up for their date. Her car was still outside. Timmy chewed on his thumbnail, mulled it over for all of thirty seconds before he was sliding his feet into his sneakers and grabbing her keys from the hook by the door. 

He’d never been to Armie’s apartment, but Pauline had written the address down and stuffed it in a kitchen drawer so Nicole didn’t worry. He typed the postcode into Google Maps so fast he smooshed all the letters together and had to start over. He got it right on his third attempt, put his phone face up on the passenger seat, and backed out of the driveway.

The drive to Armie’s had him sweating. He wasn’t used to taking the car unaccompanied and every flash of headlights made him jump. The sat nav told him to turn at the last minute and he changed lanes without looking, wincing as he mouthed ‘sorry’ in the mirror to an angry lady honking him. By the time he reached Armie’s street his legs were like jelly. He managed to park without crashing and hopped up the steps to Armie’s building, his long legs taking them two at a time. A young girl held the door for him and he followed her into the elevator. All too soon he was standing in front of Armie’s door, bouncing from foot to foot, wondering if he’d made a horrible mistake. 

If he doesn’t answer on the first knock I’ll just leave. Maybe I should have called first. Maybe I should call now. No. He knocked on the door, too fast and too loud.

“Just a second,” Armie’s deep, sexy voice. Oh God. He should go home.

Armie opened the door wide, startled to see him, at first, but then a huge smile spread across his face, “Would you believe me if I said I was just thinking about you?”

Timmy’s mouth opened minutely as he took in the sight before him. Armie was still damp from the shower, his hair fluffy where it had started to dry. A few water droplets trickled down between his pecs. He was wearing pale yellow pajama pants and nothing else, wide waistband slung low on his hips. 


“Hi,” Armie was still smiling, “come in.”

Timmy shuffled into the apartment, taking in his surroundings, seeing nothing, “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

Armie waved his hand dismissively, “It’s good to see you. Drink?”

“Please,” Timmy stood awkwardly in the middle of Armie’s living room while Armie fetched a Coke from the fridge. They sat on the sofa together, Armie facing him, one leg up on the cushions and the other stretched out. The pajama pants were very thin. Timmy yanked his eyes back up to Armie’s face.

“Is everything OK? How’re things at home?”

“Shitty,” Timmy sipped his drink and placed it on the coffee table, “she won’t talk to me. Mom side eyes me every time I enter a room.”


“Yeah. And I can’t”


“I can’t sleep, I…” Armie’s nipples had budded up, peachy pink and lickable. Timmy swiped his tongue across his lower lip, “Can you put a shirt on, or something?”

Armie stretched out more fully, raising his eyebrows, “Why?” It was a deliberate tease. 

Timmy crawled across the sofa into his lap, “You fucking know why,” he growled, bringing Armie’s hand to his crotch, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. 

They made out for long moments, Armie’s hands roaming his back, his stubble scraping Timmy’s sensitive neck as he moved his mouth there, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Mmmm, baby boy. So hard for me already.”

Timmy moaned, the pet name sliding like silk from his shoulders. He tilted his head and closed his eyes, giving Armie more access, “Put me to bed.”

Armie pulled away, confused, “You want to sleep here?”

Timmy’s cheeks coloured as he realised his mistake. He headbutted Armie’s chest gently, trying to hide his blush, “I meant take me to bed.”

Armie chuckled softly, “And what do you want to do there?”

“Kiss you. Touch you. Feel your hands on me.”

Armie carried him into his bedroom, dropped him in the middle of the mattress with a little bounce. Timmy made grabby hands in the air, beckoning Armie on top of him. They lay together, kissing, touching. Armie lowered the waistband of his pajamas until his dick bounced free, the material bunched up under his balls. He unzipped Timmy’s jeans and slid his hand inside, massaging him through his tight boxers. Timmy sat up, pulled his shirt over his head.

“I want to be naked with you.”

Armie kicked off his pants and lay back, fondling himself while he watched Timmy strip. Timmy batted his hand away and resumed stroking, sighing when Armie did the same.

Just touching him, feeling his body, his weight, it was like coming home, like he could finally relax for the first time in a week. He moaned, luxuriating in the velvet slide of Armie’s dick in his tight fist, the fingers of his free hand tangling in Armie’s hair. Their mouths barely parted, breath hot between their lips. Armie swiped his thumb through the precome beading at Timmy’s slit before reaching down low to cup his balls. His fingertips grazed Timmy’s perineum and Timmy canted his hips up with a whimper.

“You can,” Timmy smiled against his lips, “just a little, if you want to.”

Armie pulled away, resting his weight on his elbow. He looked down at Timmy with a warm, amused smile, “Timmy, do you want to have sex?”

Timmy blushed, turning his head to the side. He bit his bottom lip and nodded, not looking at Armie’s face.

“Hey,” Armie gently tilted his chin, “I want you, too. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

Timmy sighed, squirmed, “I just thought”

“That it could be like last time?” Armie caressed his cheek, “No talking? Just one thing leading to another? Nobody to blame?”

“Fuck,” Timmy let go of his cock. Was he that obvious? That easy? “I’m sorry.”

Armie shushed him with a kiss, “Whatever you need, OK? I’m here.”

“I need you .”

Armie took his time with the prep until Timmy was a wet, mewling mess. He hooked Timmy’s legs over his shoulders as he entered him, pushing his tongue into his mouth to fill him up at both ends. Timmy whined between kisses. The stretch was still so new and intense. He tried to work on his breathing, focus on the fact that this was Armie until he settled into it. It was so different from the first time. This felt like love, like worship, rather than a needy, dirty race to the finish line. Armie rocked in and out, gentle, careful, smiling down at him, brushing his damp curls away from his face. The slow burn built to a gorgeous climax. They came within moments of each other.

Armie held him afterwards, Timmy’s head pillowed on his chest while they talked about nothing. Eventually Timmy had to clean up and leave. “Mom doesn’t know I’m here .” Armie walked him to his car, gave him a kiss on the cheek before he climbed in. He watched Armie get smaller in the rearview mirror until a corner stole him from view. He felt lighter, somehow, and exhausted. A pleasant ache settled in his limbs as he realised he might actually sleep tonight. 


No lights were on in the living room when he got home. Pauline’s car was gone from the driveway. Timmy closed the door quietly behind him, hoping to slip upstairs to bed, but his mother’s voice stopped him.


“Mom?” He walked into the living room, “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“Pauline’s gone.”

Timmy frowned, “She didn’t say she was leaving today.”

“No. She didn’t want you to know.”

“Oh,” Timmy picked at a loose thread on the arm of the sofa.

“You’ve been with him , I suppose.”

“Mom,” his voice wobbled. 

Nicole lifted a wine glass to her lips, taking a long sip before setting it down again. “I really wish you hadn’t told me like this.”

“Told you?”

“That you’re...” she smiled into the darkness, “I knew, of course, but... I wish you’d talked to me.”

Timmy fidgeted, his shoes scraping on the carpet, “It’s not the kinda thing you talk to you mom about.”

“I could tell something was bothering you. I thought you didn’t like him, that you were jealous of him for taking up all of Pauline’s time.”

“I’m sorry,” Timmy rubbed his eyes, “I’m really sorry.”

Nicole reached over, her hand warm and comforting on Timmy’s knee, “She loved him a lot.”

Timmy let out a shaky breath, looking everywhere but at her face.

“Family is the most important thing we have, Timmy. I’m trusting you to do the right thing.”

Timmy nodded. His jaw clenched as he held back his reply. She wouldn't want to hear it anyway.

“And ask, next time you borrow the car.”


His t shirt smelled like Armie’s apartment. He held it up to his face and breathed deeply, wishing he’d been able to snag one of Armie’s hoodies or dress shirts. He would probably give him one if he asked, and the thought made Timmy’s stomach clench. He cuddled his pillow, replaying their lovemaking over and over. He still had this, at least. No one could steal his memories.


An envelope was waiting by the fruit bowl the next morning. Timmy opened it without much thought, his brain still muggy from lack of sleep. Bloodshot eyes scanned the first paragraph.

Pleased to inform you

Unconditional offer

Term starts on

He heavy paper fell from his shaking fingers. “I got in,” he announced to no one, breath catching in his throat, “I got in. I got in! I fucking got in!” He was shouting now, giddy and terrified. There was no one in the house. He rang his mom at work and left a voicemail, sent Saoirse an all caps text. He hesitated as he scrolled to Armie’s name in his phone, thumb hovering before he dialed.




“And um...I think, I think maybe you’re too old for me.”

Armie raised his eyebrows in amusement, smelling Tim’s bullshit a mile off, “OK.” 

After a celebratory dinner, they had parked at the top of a hill overlooking the whole city. The lights twinkled red and yellow in the navy darkness. It was romantic as hell, the perfect makeout spot. Timmy almost hated him for it. 

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, “Fuck. That’s...I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Let’s just pretend you never did.”

Timmy cringed.

Armie sighed, “Look, I know what you’re trying to do. What you’ve been trying to do for the last half hour. You’re a good guy, I get it, but you don’t have to do this whole guilt trip thing. Pauline and I, we were never that serious.”

Timmy shot him a look, “She was fucking in love with you.”

Armie snorted.

“Armie, I’m not kidding. Pauline had boyfriends. I don’t mean...She wasn’t a slut or anything, but she had a few exes. We never met any of them.”

Armie looked out across the valley, eyebrows creasing, “Really?”

“Yeah. She tried to hide it, but she was so excited to bring you home. I could tell how happy she was to be with you. That’s what made it so much harder when I realised that I…” He trailed off. 

Armie blinked a few times, cleared his throat, “I didn’t know.”

“That night you guys got drunk and stayed over? Honestly one of the worst nights of my life.”

“Fuck, Tim,” Armie’s face crumpled, he pulled Timmy into a hug, holding him as close as the awkward angle would allow. “I’m so sorry,” his breath was hot against Timmy’s neck. 

“So I know how she feels,” Timmy swallowed hard, “I know how much it hurts seeing the guy you love with someone else.”

Armie pulled away. Their eyes met, damp and scared.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Timmy took a deep breath, his voice resolute despite the ache in his throat, “I’m sorry, Armie. I can’t do this.”


Chapter Text


Christmas Eve, 4 Months Later


Timmy looked up from his phone just in time to see the departures board flash red. Cancelled, cancelled, cancelled, cancelled. The glaring LEDs were met with groans of frustration, sobbing, some swearing. Timmy glanced around the airport lounge, making sure to set his face into an equally miserable expression. In reality, the dread he’d felt building for the past week slowly started to dissipate, the tension trickling out of him like soap suds down a blocked up drain. 

He got to his feet with an exaggerated sigh, stretching out his back and shoulders. He’d been at the airport for hours, hoping the snow would get worse so he could stay at school for the holidays. His roommate had already gone back to Minnesota so he had the dorm to himself. There were pizza subs in the deep freeze and he’d stocked up on lotion. #BestChristmasEver. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the exit, snapping a pic of the ‘cancelled’ signs, just in case. 

The bus back to the city was horribly crowded. Timmy ended up squished to one side, his thigh pressing uncomfortably into a metal seat handle. His headphones were doing nothing to drown out his fellow passengers’ complaining, and he slung them round his neck in irritation. No way he could call his mom here. He fired off a text.

All flights cancelled. I’m gonna try and get home before the storm gets worse. Sorry. I’ll text you. Love Timmy x

He locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket, relieved that he didn’t have to talk. 


Icy wind bit into him as he stepped off the bus. It was already dark, the street deserted apart from a few SUVs with spinning tyres. Timmy dragged his suitcase along behind him, holding his hood up with his other hand and scowling against the cold. His phone had been buzzing incessantly for the last twenty minutes. 

A large neon sign blinked overhead, making the entrance to a bar he’d never been to. Gotta speak to Mom sometime, and this was as good a place as any. He shoved the door open, yanking his suitcase through the tiny gap before the wind slammed it shut again.  

“ID,” the bartender folded his arms, toothpick between his teeth like some sort of movie gangsta.

“Come on, man,” Timmy stomped his feet to warm up, blew on his clasped hands, “I’m freezing my ass off out there.”


“I just wanna make a phone call. I’ll buy a coffee or something.”

The bartender let out a put upon sigh. Timmy grimaced as he watched him wipe a mug with the corner of his filthy apron. 

He sat down in a booth, quickly reading through his messages. His mom had called six times before resorting to texts, each one sounding increasingly worried and upset. He pressed her photo with his thumb and held the phone to his ear, giving the bartender a thumbs up when he placed a steaming Americano on the table in front of him.


“Hey Mom.”

“Are you OK? You didn’t answer your phone.”

Timmy pinched the bridge of his nose, “I was stuck on a crowded bus for two hours, Mom. Not exactly the place for a family call.”

“Are you back at the dorm?” He could hear her pursing her lips, trying her hardest to ignore his tone .

“Yeah,” Timmy lied, “Alex is here too. Got snowed in same as me.”

“Oh, well,” Nicole let out a relieved huff of breath, “I’m glad you’re not there alone, anyway. Will you boys be alright? I hate thinking of you spending Christmas without your family.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” he swiped a crumb off the sticky tabel, “Pauline will be happy, at least.”

“Tim,” her voice softened, “she was looking forward to seeing you.”

Timmy snorted.

“Shall I put her on?”

“No. I gotta go, Mom. Battery’s dying. Love you.”

“Love you too, Tim. I’ll call you tomorrow.”


He stared at his phone until the screen went black. Someone cleared their throat above him.

Timmy looked up, fully prepared to argue with the bartender again. What he saw made his heart slam against his ribs.

“Hi,” Armie smiled down at him, “mind if I join you?”

Timmy blinked stupidly, “Wha?”

“Oh, right,” Armie coughed nervously as he slid into the booth, “I moved here for work. I knew you got into...I thought about letting you know, that I was here, but, um, I figured it might not be the best idea. But now, here you are. Hi.”

His cheeks were beautifully pink, either from embarrassment or the cold, Timmy couldn’t tell.

“Wow. I just said a whole hell of a lot. How’re you?”

Timmy realised his mouth was open and closed it quickly, “‘Mgood.” 

Armie winced, “I’m gonna...I should go,” he got up as if to leave, but Timmy held his wrist.

“I’m sorry. Please? I’m just shocked, seeing you.”

Armie nodded, “It’s been awhile.”


“Why are you here, anyway? It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Got snowed in,” Timmy shrugged, “to be honest, I wasn’t really feeling it this year. With everything.”

“Yeah. How is...That.”

Timmy sipped his coffee, “Pauline doesn’t talk to me any more. A couple times a month I get a like on Instagram. She’s dating some guy called Matt. I think it’s pretty serious.”


Timmy shrugged again, “My mom tries, but like, I think when she looks at me, she sees this different person. I don’t know.”

Armie’s eyes softened. He stroked Timmy’s hand with the pad of his thumb. Timmy watched him, a warmth unspooling inside that had nothing to do with the coffee. They talked about Armie’s job, and his new apartment, and his hand never left Timmy’s.

“I thought about you a lot,” Timmy admitted, his voice low.

“Yeah?” Armie broke out into a grin, “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“I live in a dorm now. Surrounded by all these football players.”


“I see them shower every day.”

“Lucky boy.”

“They got nothing on you, though,” Timmy sat back in his seat, legs spreading just a little more than necessary, fixing Armie with a pointed, devilish smirk.

Armie raised his eyebrows, “That escalated.”

“Do you want me to carry on lamenting my depressing home life instead?”

“No, but this is dangerous territory for us. Remember?”

Timmy leaned forward again, sulky, thoroughly chastised. He slipped his hand from Armie’s grip.

The bartender dropped his rag on the table, “I’m closin’ up.”


Out on the sidewalk, Timmy stuffed his hands into his pockets, buried his nose further into the soft wool of his scarf, “Was nice seeing you.”

Armie put his hand down just as a taxi crawled past them, its tyres crunching on the snow and grit. He frowned at Timmy, incredulous, “You’re not spending Christmas alone in a dorm!” He shook his head and laughed a little, embarrassed at his outburst, “I mean, um, come home with me? Please?”

Timmy stared him down. His cock throbbed against his zipper, still keyed up from their flirting in the bar. Armie lowered his lashes, wrapped his coat more tightly around himself, and Timmy wanted , wanted so badly it made him flush despite the cold. “Yeah, OK.”

The snow was already up to the ankles of Timmy’s Docs. He kicked it aside as he walked, each step taking twice as long as he tried not to overbalance. Armie took his hand, his palm big and warm against Timmy’s chilly fingers. He looked straight ahead with a smile, like holding Timmy’s hand  was the most natural thing in the world, comfortable, something they did every day. Timmy leaned into it, placed his other hand on top of Armie’s. 

“I thought this was dangerous territory.”

Armie chuckled, swung his arm around Timmy’s shoulders and snuggled him, kissed his cheek right there on the empty street. “Fuck it. I’ve missed you so much,” his breath was hot against Timmy’s ear, and Timmy had all on not to push him against the nearest lamppost and kiss him senseless. 

“I’m so hard,” he admitted, reaching down to adjust himself without breaking his stride.

Armie stared at his crotch, tongue swiping over his bottom lip, “It’s not far.”


“On the couch,” Armie murmured, his lips still grazing Timmy’s between kisses. They were down to their boxers, the rest of their clothing puddled between the doorway and the living room.

Timmy gave Armie’s ass a final squeeze before turning slowly, smiling at Armie over his shoulder as he knelt on the cushions, back arched, totally on display, underwear tight around his erection. Armie settled behind him, running his hand between his legs to cup his length. He dragged Timmy’s boxers down, smiling at the little sigh that escaped Timmy’s throat when his dick was finally freed. Armie nudged his legs apart further, the elastic of his underwear holding him in place. Gently, he eased Timmy’s cock backwards, until the tip was resting on his waistband, and Armie had a perfect view of all of him. 

“Fuck,” Timmy rolled his hips, bit down softly on the corner of the cushion. 

Armie stroked his ass cheeks, kneading them with strong fingers, “How long has it been?”

Timmy shook his head, “Only you.”

“Good,” Armie draped himself across Timmy’s back, started planting little kisses at the nape of his neck.

“Have you?” Timmy’s voice caught in his throat, not wanting to know. Not not wanting to know.

“No,” Armie sucked a bruise into his shoulder blade, “I’m pretty gone for this sweet brunette I met back home.”

Timmy smiled, “Tell me about him.”

“Hmm...Well, he’s a smartass, and a babe.”

Timmy giggled. 

Armie’s kisses moved lower, lower, until his lips were hovering just above the curve of Timmy’s ass, “He tries so hard. He thinks he has to be this perfect person. But he’s already so good. I wish he realised.”

Timmy’s eyes flooded with tears, arousal bringing every emotion crashing to the surface. He bit the cushion again.

Armie hummed in appreciation, “He shouldn’t set himself on fire to keep someone else warm, you know? I just want to make him happy.” 

Timmy gasped as Armie’s tongue slid between his cheeks, tracing the seam until it flicked delicately over his hole. He hunched his shoulders, moans and sobs tumbling from his open mouth as Armie ate him out, carefully at first but then gradually getting faster, harsher. He licked a stripe up Timmy’s shaft, lapped at the velvet heat of his tight sack. 

“Jesus, I can’t...Armie...I can’t, please.”

Armie pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Timmy’s arms trembled with the strain of holding himself upright. Armie took his underwear all the way off. His dick bobbed, heavy and drooling between his thighs.

“Let’s move this to the window. We can watch the storm,” he helped Timmy to his feet. 

“Someone’s gonna see.”

“We’re six floors up. No one’s gonna see.”

The apartment was completely dark apart from the soft glow of the Christmas tree. Armie hugged Timmy from behind, eased his leg up until his knee was resting on the low window ledge. Timmy hissed, startled as his balls made contact with the cold radiator. 

Armie sucked his fingers into his mouth, smeared his spit around Timmy’s already slick entrance, “I don’t have any lube. Can you take it like this?”

Timmy nodded frantically, “Just fuck me.”

“I’ll go slow.”

Timmy closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the window as Armie started preparing him. He reached down to tug on his cock, blurring out the burn with slow building pleasure. Armie was so good at this. So good at teasing his little hole until he couldn’t fucking think straight any more. He whined, rocked his hips back to meet Armie’s fingers. 

“This must be our thing,” Armie rubbed the front wall of his tunnel, deliberately avoiding his sweet spot.

Timmy gasped, licked his lips, “Huh?”

“Stormy weather,” Armie nipped his earlobe, “precipitation gets you hot.”

Timmy’s laugh turned to a low moan as Armie crooked his fingers, bright flashes of colour exploding behind his eyelids. He watched Armie’s reflection in the window, watched a long line of spit drip from his mouth onto his dick. Armie slicked himself up, pressed the head against Timmy’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, making Timmy grit his teeth as he opened his legs wider to accommodate him. He leaned back, nuzzled Armie’s chin until Armie wrapped him up in his arms, his warm bulk a delicious contrast to the frosty window pane. They fucked slow, deep, Timmy’s hand braced against the glass. 

“God, look at you,” Armie growled against his neck. He cupped Timmy’s ass, pulling his cheeks further apart so he could watch himself, “love your soft little peach. You take me so well, baby.”

“So big.”

“So are you.”

Timmy shook his head. 

“No, look at yourself,” Armie held his cock, “so thick, Tim,” he thumbed his dripping slit, “you should walk around like you know you’re packing.”

Timmy whimpered, release already coiling in his belly. Armie tightened his grip, worked him hard until he came with a yelp, splattering the window. His fluttering muscles tipped Armie over the edge, and he bit down on Timmy’s shoulder as he filled him completely.

Timmy hissed when he pulled out. His cock was still achingly hard and wet, leaving a slick trail along the windowsill. Armie smiled when he noticed, dropped to his knees to guide Timmy into his mouth with a hum of approval. He pushed two fingers into Timmy’s loosened hole, fucking him in a counter rhythm to the bobbing of his head. 

Timmy keened, breath coming in little pants, so overstimulated his could feel the tears soaking his cheeks. He came in Armie’s mouth, fingers buried in his hair, cock wrung out as it twitched and throbbed between Armie’s lips. 

They curled up on the rug, tree decorations twinkling, dappling patterns on their soft skin. 

“Merry Christmas, Tim,” Armie kissed his forehead.

“Hmmm,” Timmy snuggled into his side, settling Armie’s arm across him like a blanket, “You’re exactly what I wanted.”

Chapter Text

Timmy woke to the sound of the shower. He was alone in Armie’s bed, warm and snuggly under the brushed cotton bedding. He starfished out with a happy sigh, rolling into the centre of the mattress and spreading his limbs. Everything smelled like Armie. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep as he heard the shower turn off. 

A plume of steam followed Armie out of the bathroom. Timmy cracked his eye open, mouth watering as he watched Armie unwind the towel from his waist. He stood by the head of the bed, rubbing roughly at the water droplets glistening on his thick thighs.

“I know you’re not sleeping.”

Timmy squeezed his eyes shut again, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

Armie chuckled as he walked over to the bed. He brushed Timmy’s hair off his forehead, placed a gentle kiss on his temple, “Stay there as long as you want.”

Timmy hummed in reply, and buried his face further into the pillows. 


A pile of folded laundry sat neatly on top of a black leather storage cube in the corner of the room. Timmy padded over to it, figuring Armie wouldn't mind if he borrowed something to wear. At the top of the pile was a chunky sweater, cream cable knit in a thick weave. Timmy held it up to his face, closing his eyes as he breathed in the comforting, clean smell. Armie's cologne still lingered in the fabric. The jumper reached mid thigh, completely hiding Timmy's boxers and making him look naked underneath. He smirked at his reflection before heading towards the living room.

Armie was by the stove, fussing with something in a pan. He smiled when he saw Timmy, wiped his hands on a dish towel.

"Don't you have a suitcase full of clothes?"

Timmy shrugged, "I like this better."

"Looks good on you."

Timmy kissed his cheek before hopping up on the counter, swinging his legs, "Whatcha makin'?"

"Pancakes," Armie lifted the frying pan from the stove, executed a perfect flip, "want some?"

Timmy nodded eagerly, "Want you first, though."

Armie rolled his eyes, but his laugh was affectionate. He turned down the gas and stepped over to Timmy, sliding in between his legs. Timmy wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close until their noses were brushing.

"I'm so happy."

"I make you happy?" Armie teased, though his cheeks were pink from the compliment. 

"The happiest," Timmy nuzzled his face.

Armie pulled away slightly, his brow creased like he didn't quite believe what Timmy was saying, "You really like me that much?"

Timmy leaned in, their lips a breath apart, "I worship you."

The kiss was delicious, hungry and sweet all at once. Armie's hands came to rest on Timmy's thighs, kneading, pushing his jumper higher. Timmy pulled back with a sigh.


"Hmm?" His gaze was heated, his eyes following the plush swell of Timmy's lips as he spoke.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

Timmy's phone buzzed frantically against the glass coffee table, startling them both before Armie could answer. Timmy swore loudly as he jumped down to fetch it, groaned when he saw the caller ID.

"It's my mom."

"Fucking Chalamets. You interrupt everything," Armie laughed at the god awful timing, and went back to tending his pancakes.

“Hey Mom, Merry Christmas.”

“Hi, beautiful sweet boy! I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, Mom. How’s Grandma?”

Timmy ‘hmmed’ his way through the next ten minutes, raising his eyebrows at Armie as his mother talked. 

“I’m so sorry you’re all alone today.”

“I’m not alone, I told you, Alex is here with me.”

Armie’s face fell. His jaw clenched as he plated up his pancakes.

Timmy’s stomach swooped when he saw Armie’s reaction, “I gotta go, Mom. OK. Love you too,” he ended the call, pulled the sleeves down on Armie’s jumper, hugged himself. He had never been a good liar. 

Armie pushed past him, carrying his food towards the sofa, “Yours is in there.”

“Thanks,” Timmy mumbled. He picked up his plate, hunted for a knife and fork that Armie hadn’t bothered to set out for him. He settled down next to Armie and tried to smile despite the clenching in his gut. They ate in silence for a few moments.

“Why did you lie?”

Timmy poked at his pancake, appetite gone, “It’s not over the phone news.”

“I hadn’t answered yet.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I will, now.”

“Armie,” Timmy squeezed his arm, “Please, I’m sorry.”

Armie put his plate down with a sigh, “I like you, obviously, but I don’t think I can be with someone who doesn’t know themselves, who lets other people control them all the time.”

“I don’t!”

Armie snorted, “We'd barely even started this and you broke up with me cos your mom told you to. Those were her words, not yours.”

Timmy looked away, “I felt bad, for what we did.”

“Yeah, and you still do.”

Timmy didn’t speak. 

“Jesus. You have got to let go of this guilt, Tim. Yeah, our timing kinda sucked, but I did not cheat on your sister, OK? We went out for awhile and we got bored. It happens all the time.”

“Would you have still got bored if I wasn’t around?”

Armie opened his mouth, closed it again. “I don’t know,” He scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“I’m not ashamed of you. I could never…” Timmy swallowed, emotion lodged in his throat along with the dry pancake, “I just want to keep things between us , right now, you know? Fuck, I’ve never been in love before, Armie. I don’t want anyone to ruin it again.”

Armie’s whole body softened. He blushed beautifully, his smile almost shy. He was quiet for a long time. Timmy blinked, anxious, not sure whether he should look at Armie or look away.



“Yes. I’ll be your boyfriend. And we’ll keep it between us, but only until you talk to your mom, OK? I don’t wanna be some dirty little secret.”

Timmy flung himself across the couch and into Armie’s arms, knocking a surprised little huff out of him. He stroked Timmy’s back as Timmy squeezed him tightly, buried his nose in his hair to breathe him in. 

“Can I tell Sersh?”

Armie laughed, “That didn’t last long. Go for it, if you’re so keen to brag.”

Timmy unwound himself and dived for his phone, fingers moving at lightning speed. 


TC: Happy Christmas Lady Sersh *five happy face emojis.*

SR: Happy Christmas Timface. Why so happy???

SR: Aren’t you home with the parentals?

TC: Nope *tongue smiley*



Timmy glanced behind him. Armie had taken their plates to the kitchen and was currently running water into the sink. Timmy snapped a sneaky pic of him reaching over to grab the dish soap, his t shirt riding up to expose the dimples in his lower back. He sent it to Saoirse with a naughty grin, his leg bouncing with excitement.


SR: Is that????

SR: Explain

TC: New boyf *heart emoji*


TC: Yup

TC: But nobody knows yet so don’t say anything.

SR: *Zip emoji*

SR: Merry Christmas indeed. 

TC: Gotta go. Love you xxx

SR: You too xxxx


Armie wandered back into the room with two glasses of orange juice, “What did she say?”

“She’s really happy for us.”

Armie smiled. He sat down on the sofa next to Timmy, put his legs up and stretched himself out until he was half lying down, “Come here.”

Timmy shuffled up to lay back against him. Armie slid his arms around his middle, kissed his neck. 

“I didn’t get you a Christmas present.”

Timmy yawned, snuggled further into him, “Let me keep this sweater and we’ll call it even.”

“And what are you gonna do for me?” Armie’s hand moved lower, his fingertip tracing the elastic of Timmy’s boxers.

Timmy hummed happily, lifting his hips to meet Armie’s palm. “Hmmm...What do you want me to do?”

Chapter Text

“Hngh, fuck, Timmy,” Armie arched back into the pillows, throat exposed as his eyes closed in pleasure. 

Timmy leaned forward, tongue tracing the vein in Armie’s neck, moaning when he felt Armie’s dick throb inside him. He sat upright again, fully impaling himself with a roll of his hips. His hands found Armie’s biceps and squeezed. Their bellies slid together in a mess of sweat and precome. Close. So close his teeth ached. 

It had been hours since they first undressed, taking full advantage of Timmy’s empty dorm room, his cancelled classes that day. Armie had called in sick as soon as he got Timmy’s message, already out of the door by the time he reached his boss’ extension. 

Timmy scraped his nails over a nipple, delighting in Armie’s reaction. Four months of almost non stop fucking, and they were still so desperate for each other.

Armie’s big hands cupped his ass, spread his cheeks apart.

“Armie,” he panted, “please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Touch me.”

Armie smiled. His fingers slipped down Timmy’s crease to tease his rim gently, soothing, slick with lube, exploring where their bodies joined. Precome pearled in Timmy’s slit. He closed his eyes, grit his teeth, felt the pleasure flow over his body in waves. 

“More, right there…Armie please.”

“Fuck! Shit! Sorry! Sorry!”

Timmy whirled around, mortified, face glowing beet red as he locked eyes with his roommate. He threw the duvet over his head, trying his best to cover himself, and Armie, and everything they had been doing. “Just a second!” He screeched, dislodging so fast it made them both wince. The door slammed with Alex on the other side of it. Timmy stared at the empty space he had occupied, not even blinking until he slumped into a heap on the floor, still wrapped in the duvet, head in his hands. 

Armie swung his legs round to sit on the edge of the bed, wiped his soft dick with a pained expression, “Thought he was gonna be gone all day.”

“It has been all day,” Timmy’s voice was muffled by shame, his hands, “it’s evening now.”

“Shit,” Armie lifted up a corner of the curtain, “it’s dark.”


“I’m sorry,” Armie patted the duvet affectionately, not sure which bit of Timmy he was trying to comfort.

“Not your fault,” Timmy poked his head out of the blanket, eyes shining, “I shoulda put a tie on the door or something.”

“Do you own a tie?”

Timmy thought for a moment. “No.”

“It’ll be OK. It happens.”

“He saw my entire ass!” Timmy re-duveted himself with a wail, “I want to die!”

Armie couldn’t help the little chuckle that bubbled up in his throat, “You’ll be fine, Tim. Just buy him a pizza or something. He’ll forgive you.”

“My. Entire. Ass.”


He kissed Armie goodbye at the main gate, leaning against the railing as he watched him walk to his car. Armie turned to give him a little wave, a hopeful thumbs up. Timmy waved back, socked feet cold on the concrete steps until Armie’s car was out of sight. He sighed heavily. His stomach was a knot. He hadn’t even told Alex he was gay, let alone that he had been seeing someone for the past four months. He hadn’t told his mom yet either, but that was a whole different thing. Reluctantly, he headed inside, head down low, arms wrapped around himself. 

He found Alex in their shared kitchen, scrolling through his phone while something whirred in the microwave. 

“Um, hey,” he sat down on the stool opposite. 

Alex glared at him, “He gone?”

“Yeah,” Timmy swallowed thickly, “yeah he just left.”


“Look, I’m sorry you had to see that,” Timmy tried to laugh, but it came out weak and strangled, “I honestly thought I’d locked the door.”

“I have a key, genius. I live there too.”

“Right,” Timmy had never seen Alex mad before. He wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

Alex put his phone face down on the table, started scratching at the wood with a chewed up thumbnail, “You shoulda told me you were like this.”

“Like what?”

Alex glared at him, repulsed, “I can’t believe I’ve been living with a fucking faggot all year.”

“Huh?” Timmy’s leg started to tremble. He squeezed it hard.

“It’s fucking disgusting, letting some guy do that to you.”

“I didn’t...I didn’t ‘let’ him. He’s my...We…”

Alex held up a hand to stop him, “Whatever. You’re fucked up. I want you gone.”


“All your shit, packed and out of here by tomorrow night. We clear?” His mouth was a hard line.

“Or what?” Timmy squared his shoulders. His voice trembled. His shirt clung with sweat.

Alex shrugged, casual, like they were discussing football fixtures, “Or I call my friends back home. I’m sure they’d make the trip. They love queers.”

Timmy’s stomach rolled. He stood up quickly, gripping the table edge for balance, “That’s not fair. I need more time...To...To find a new place, and…”

“You got a boyfriend, right? I thought all you fags wanted was to play house with each other.”

Timmy’s mouth slammed shut. His throat ached, but he fought the urge to cry with everything he had, “I thought we were friends, man.”

“Sick fucks like you don’t deserve friends.”

Timmy turned to leave.

“Oh, Tim?” 

He turned back. 

“I’ll torch anything you leave behind.”

The microwave dinged.


“I’m gonna kill him!” Armie paced his small living room, back and forth in front of the sofa where Timmy sat, curled in a ball, still shaking. The sleeve of the grey hoodie he had borrowed was damp where he had wiped his tears. Armie clenched his fists, his jaw, “He thinks he can speak to you like that? Kick you out of your own home cos he doesn’t like where you put your dick? Little shit needs his face rearranged.”

“Armie, please,” Timmy stared up at him with huge, watery eyes, “please stop.”

Armie stilled, sighing as he looked down at Timmy, “I’m sorry. I’m so mad right now,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“I know,” Timmy wiped his nose again, “you’re scaring me.”

“Oh baby,” Armie’s whole demeanour softened. He sat down next to Timmy, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Shhh...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was low, soothing. He rubbed Timmy’s arm.

“I know,” Timmy sniffed.

Armie kissed his temple, “You’re safe with me. Always,”

Timmy blinked, nodded.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll order us some takeout and we can watch something dumb, OK?”


He helped Timmy to his feet and into the bathroom. Timmy sat on the closed toilet lid while Armie ran him a bath.

“I don’t have any bubbles, sorry.”

Timmy smiled weakly, “It’s OK. I think I’m allergic anyway.”

“Huh. Me too. Maybe we have the same one.”


Timmy undressed, shivering. He sank into the warm water with a grateful whimper, sliding down until he was up to his chin. 

“What shall I order?” Armie took his place on the toilet lid. He scrolled through the delivery app on his phone.

“Italian?” Timmy lifted a leg out of the water, watched the droplets trickle towards his thigh, “Chinese?”

“Those are vastly different choices.”

Timmy shrug-splashed, “I’m not really hungry.”

“I could get you some dumplings? And order something extra just in case? I’ll eat it if you don’t.”

I love you. Timmy smiled without speaking. He hadn’t said it since he made his confession, but he knew he felt it. Knew they both did, or rather, really, really hoped. It was a hard thing to say to someone. All he wanted was to hear it back. 

He soaped up his hair, rinsed it by dunking his head under the water. Armie chatted idly while he washed the rest of his body. He felt calm in increments, until reality swerved achingly back into focus, blindsiding him all over again. 

Armie wrapped him in a warm towel when he was done with his bath, grabbing another one off the rack to dry his hair. He alternated between kissing Timmy on the mouth and rubbing his curls into wild ringlets. I love you so fucking much, Armie. Please, please say it back.

He slipped on a pair of Armie’s pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt, rolling up the cuffs of both, and they settled on the sofa to watch TV. They ate their food straight from the cartons, Timmy wolfing down more than he expected to. Eventually his eyelids became heavy, and his excuses stopped working on Armie, so they went to bed. 

Armie lay down first, beckoning Timmy to him with open arms. Timmy melted into his embrace, pillowing his head on Armie’s chest. The tears came before he could stop them.

“Shhh, it’s OK,” Armie hugged him, stroked his hair. 

Timmy shook his head.

“Tomorrow we’ll go and get your stuff. Together . If he tries anything, he’ll have to deal with me.”

Timmy mumbled “fucked,” and “sorry.”

“Shhh, not your fault. Try to sleep now. Everything is OK.”

“Where am I gonna go, Armie?” Timmy sat up, angrily scrubbing at his eyes, “If I ask for a transfer, they’re gonna ask why .”

Armie sat up too, looking down at the bedspread, “I’ve actually been thinking,” he held Timmy’s hand, entwining their fingers, “why don’t you move in with me? It’s not on campus, but you’d have space to study, and I could drive you in for your morning classes. You could still have friends over, and stuff.”

Timmy’s eyes grew very wide as his brain worked overtime, “Um…”

“Only if you want to,” Armie said quickly, then, “it was just a thought.”

“Armie, I would fucking love to move in with you.”

Armie beamed.

“But don’t you think it’s kinda fast? We haven’t been dating that long.”

“You already stay here most weekends, and some weeknights, too.”

“Yeah, but,” Timmy looked away, “what if you get sick of me?”



“Not gonna happen.”

Armie ,” Timmy shoved him a bit, exasperated, “you haven’t thought this through. You just wanna save me, and I love that about you, but I don’t want you to regret this.”

Armie chuckled, shook his head, “I was gonna ask you at the end of the semester. This just kinda...Brought it forward.”

Timmy’s lower lip wobbled. He fell into Armie’s arms, kissing him all over. Their impromptu wrestling match ended with him on top, Armie warm and squirming beneath him. Timmy rocked his hips.

Armie hissed, pulled away, “Don’t, baby.”



Timmy hung his head, “Cos you didn’t get to come.”

“It’s fine,” Armie rubbed his back, “I’m just a little swollen.”

“Me too,” Timmy admitted, “it fucking aches .”

Armie licked his lips. He reached between them to slowly tug Timmy’s pants down. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, thumb rolling over the head. Timmy gasped, hard and straining in Armie’s careful grip. 

“You can touch me, too,” Armie whispered, pressing their lips together as he started to stroke. 

Timmy closed his eyes. His focus was fixed on too many points at once, Armie’s mouth, his hands, the thick length of his cock smearing precome against his hip. He pushed down, fucking into Armie’s fist while his fingers found their prize, barely meeting around the base of Armie’s shaft.

Armie brought two fingers to his own mouth, cheeks hollowing as he got them nice and wet. He teased Timmy’s entrance, only slipping inside when Timmy’s pitiful sounds pushed him over the edge. Timmy’s rhythm faltered. Armie groaned, added a second finger. 

Timmy whined helplessly as he started to come. He let go of Armie’s cock, too blissed out to concentrate, burying his face in Armie’s neck as he shot his load all over him. Armie took over, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, grip twisting and painful until he came as well. 

They brushed noses, sharing panting breaths, exhausted kisses. Timmy slept soundly on Armie’s chest.

Chapter Text

They were standing over him. He couldn’t see their faces, only their sneers in the dark. Timmy opened his mouth to scream, but the cold night air had stolen his voice. He thrashed, clawed, but they held him down.


Nothing. He could taste blood. Thick and metallic. 



Timmy woke with a start, panting, drenched in sweat. Armie stirred beside him, one hand coming up the stuff the pillow further under his head. Timmy sighed, relieved. Just a nightmare. It’s OK. You’re OK. He swung his legs out of the blankets as his heart rate slowed to normal. They had fallen asleep cuddling, but now Armie lay on his side, facing away. Mine, Timmy smiled. His eyes followed the contours of Armie’s sleeping form. Warm, soft skin over hard muscle. Touch. He needed to touch. 

He shuffled across the bed carefully and draped himself over Armie’s back, snuggling up to him like a koala, “Much better than a duvet,” he whispered, burying his nose in Armie's hair.

Armie made a mumbly, sleepy noise of agreement, and covered Timmy’s hand with his own.


“Ready to go?” Armie sat on the couch, tying his shoelaces.

Timmy didn’t answer. He’d been staring at the dregs of his cereal for ten minutes. 

“Hey, it’s OK,” Armie walked over to him, gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I’ll be with you the whole time, plus, I work out. I can beat him to shit if he tries anything.”

Timmy nodded without looking at him. 

“And when we get home , we’ll celebrate properly.”

Timmy smiled at the intonation. He slid off his stool, rinsed his bowl before placing it in the sink.

“I’ll have to clear out some closet space for you,” Armie poked his side, “wouldn’t wanna wrinkle all your evening wear.”

Timmy batted his hand away with a squeal, ducking and running away to fend off further tickles, “You’re one sweater is just jealous.”

Armie clutched his chest, eyes wide in mock offense, “You know damn well I have two sweaters!”

Timmy snorted with laughter, holding up his hands in surrender. Armie pulled him into a hug. 


Alex was nowhere to be seen when they got to the dorm. Timmy looked around the door nervously before beckoning Armie in with him. They boxed up his things without speaking, both wanting to get the job over with as soon as possible. 

Armie surveyed the box he was filling, hands on his hips, eyebrows creased in a frown, “I think I overpacked this.”

“What does it matter? Just hurry up. I wanna be out of here before he gets back.” Timmy felt Armie move in close behind him. He sighed, leaning back into the comforting bulk of Armie’s chest. 

Armie turned him around, brushed Timmy’s nose with his own, “You’re safe with me, remember?”

Timmy kissed him, pressing his body as close as he could while layers of clothing separated them. He wound his fingers into Armie’s hair, tugging lightly at his scalp. Armie moaned into his mouth, breathless.


They broke apart, Timmy’s cheeks flaring pink as he wiped his mouth, “Mom?!”

“Not again,” Armie muttered, "what're you doing here?"

Timmy cringed at his tone. Nicole folded her arms, pursing her lips into a thin line, “I could ask you the same question.”

They all stood gaping at each other, stunned into silence for several long moments.

“She’s visiting me,” Timmy mumbled, “I kinda...Forgot it was today.”

“My flight was fine, thank you.”

Timmy looked away, blushing furiously. 

“Well?” She gestured to the suitcase by the door, the boxes on the bed, Armie.

“I’m, um,” Timmy twiddled his fingers together, “I’m moving in. With Armie.”

Nicole laughed.


“Timothee, grow up. You’re not going anywhere,” she rounded on Armie, “do other people even exist besides the two of you? I thought you were out of the picture...After everything with Pauline…”

Timmy knew he was too old for tantrums, but at that moment, it was all too much. He stormed out of the room, banging the door on its hinges, not caring if he looked like a bratty twelve year old. He got a few feet down the hallway before he collapsed against the wall, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He kicked at the dirty carpet, wretched, angry, pathetic. Guilty , and he was the one literally running for his life.

“No, leave him,” Armie’s voice. 

“He can’t keep doing this. He was never this selfish before he met you. I pay for his room. Did he tell you that? I pay for all of it. His dad couldn’t care less!”

“Do you know why he’s moving out?” Timmy heard the floorboards creak as Armie moved. He could just picture him, arms crossed in defiance as he stared her down, “Because his roommate is a homophobic asshole. He threatened Tim when he saw us together. So yeah, sorry, he’s coming with me. I’ll write you a cheque.”

Timmy blinked rapidly. 

“Look,” Armie’s voice was quieter now. Timmy had to strain to hear him, “I’m sorry about what happened with Pauline. I’ll always be sorry. I know she’s your daughter and I care about her a lot, too, but I love your son, and if I can keep him safe, or make him happy in any way, I just...I have to. He’s everything to me, you know?”

The door closed then, leaving Timmy alone in the dingy hallway. His vision swam, too many emotions swirling too quickly inside him. I love your son. He replayed it over and over. He’s everything to me. Timmy hugged himself, a small smile breaking through the tears. 

When he had calmed down enough to go back to the room, Nicole was folding his shirts, placing them neatly in the open suitcase. Timmy fell into her arms, mumbling apologies into her shoulder that she quickly dismissed with soft words. She helped them carry the boxes to Armie’s car. 


“We can sleep on the couch tonight if you want to stay,” Armie shoved the last box onto the back seat.

“Oh no, I’ve booked a hotel, but thank you,” She gave Timmy a pointed look, “ Armie .”

Timmy rolled his eyes, “I was gonna ask too!”

“You were not,” she cradled Timmy’s cheek, “but I would like to see the place before I fly out. Brunch tomorrow?”

They nodded in agreement, and Armie typed the address into her phone. She waved them down the drive, her mascara a little smudged. 

Timmy squeezed Armie’s knee, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Armie flashed him a grin before turning his eyes back to the traffic.

“I know,” Timmy smiled smugly “I heard you say it.”

“Did you now?”

“Mmmhmm,” he shifted lower in his seat, “You’re everything to me, too. Just so you know.”


They stacked Timmy’s boxes in the living room, too tired to deal with them. Armie made a stir fry and they snuggled up on the sofa, plates in hand, Timmy’s legs draped across Armie’s knees. 

“I think my mom likes you again.”

“As she should,” Armie agreed, mouth full of bok choy, “I’m delightful.”

“What did you say to her? After you closed the door?”

Armie just raised his eyebrows, carried on eating with a knowing smile and a small shake of his head. Timmy giggled, but soon he turned quiet and contemplative. He moved his food around with his fork, not really eating it any more.

“Hey,” Armie stroked his leg, “everything OK in there?”

Timmy didn’t look at him, “Do you really love me?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“So you weren’t just saying that?”

Armie took his plate away from him, placed it down on the coffee table before taking Timmy’s foot between his palms, “I asked you to live with me. I agreed to have brunch with your mother ," he dug his fingers into the ball of Timmy's foot, causing Timmy to hiss and pull away.

Armie kissed his arch, “What’s all this about?”

Timmy sighed heavily, “I guess I don’t feel very loveable.”

“That’s bullshit, I’m loving you right now and I’m not even trying.”

Timmy tried to shove him away playfully, but his eyes filled with tears and he pulled Armie on top of him instead, clinging like he never wanted to let go. 

“I’m gross,” Armie wrinkled his nose, “I’ll all dusty and sweaty.”

Timmy leaned up to meet his lips, “Not gross,” he kissed his nose, “but we could still shower together, if that would help?”

Armie smiled down at him, “So thoughtful. So selfless,” then, laughing, “I can feel you grinding.”

Timmy stilled instantly, embarrassed that his hips had been moving of their own accord.

“Come on,” Armie jostled him fondly. He climbed off Tim and headed for the bathroom. 


Timmy stood soft and pliant while Armie hugged him from behind, soapy hands roaming his chest, his arms, his thighs. He closed his eyes, sighing as Armie peppered his shoulder blades with tiny kisses. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” Armie’s voice was a warm rumble, “I love you.”

Timmy hummed happily, “I love you too,” he reached down, guiding Armie’s hands to his crotch.

“Mmm, I can tell,” Armie gave his earlobe a playful nip.

Timmy squirmed, pushing his cock into Armie’s fist. Armie slid his own erection between Timmy’s cheeks. They both groaned. 


Timmy nodded.

“OK,” Armie rearranged himself, pressing instead against the slick skin of Timmy’s back, “better?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Armie started to stroke his cock. 

Timmy leaned back against him, mouth open in quiet little pants. He loved this, loved being held and petted and taken care of. He gave himself over entirely, coming moments later with Armie’s name tumbling from his lips. 

Forever, he thought as he sank to his knees, gazing up at Armie through long wet lashes, I can have this forever.


"Window or counter?" Armie held a cactus shaped vase in each hand.

"Counter," they said together, neither moving from their huddle on the floor, surrounded by polaroids from Saoirse’s vacation. 

"These are great, Sersh," Armie arranged each vase carefully, standing back and crouching down to make adjustments.

"Thanks," Saoirse beamed at him, "I found them in a little market upstate. Thought they were a nice, manly present.” She nudged Timmy with her shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at her, “So,” she rearranged her skirt, “where are you taking me tonight, boys?”

“I made a reservation at this great little Italian place Tim and I went to last month. The food is to die for, I honestly thought he was gonna have to roll me outta there.”

Saoirse laughed, “Sounds perfect.”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Timmy got up to answer it.

“Mail,” he came back moments later, “it’s for you.” He passed the small brown package to Armie and flopped down onto the sofa, “how many pics did you take , Sersh? It’s gonna take days to go through all these.” She shooed him away with a casual hand gesture. He twisted round to look at Armie, “What is it?”

Armie was smiling, but his eyes were wet. He handed the parcel back to Timmy. A postcard from California, and a battered old cassette tape.



It took awhile, but I’m done being pissed at you. Yay! Life’s too short to hold a grudge, especially against family, and you are family now. Take care of my little bro. Don’t spoil him, he’s bratty enough. He will also eat all your food without asking. Good luck! I’ve sent you the road trip mixtape. Maybe you guys can listen to it when you check out the cabin again this summer??? I’ve added some songs to the other side that I think you might like. I’m doing you a favour, trust me. Tim’s taste is shit. 

All my love, P. 

p.s Genuinely happy for you guys, in case it wasn’t obvious. Here’s my new number.


Timmy held the tape to his chest for a moment, slid his phone out of his pocket, and dialed.