I don’t bother switching on the lights or changing out of my clothes. All I can manage right now is to march over to the sofa and collapse on top of it.
I close my eyes to the world, a world, I remind myself, that sees me differently now, and try to forget.
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Timmy’s eyes searched for mine. He didn’t need to search for long though. I’d been looking over at him, waiting for him to finally notice that the clock would strike midnight soon.
(Nine!)
He shuffled around Pauline, eyes on me the entire time, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish into thin air.
How silly of him. I’d never go anywhere, not without our midnight kiss first.
(Eight!)
Everyone had their party poppers at the ready, eyes glued to the TV and the ball drop in Times Square, counting down every second. I didn’t give a damn about the ball. Nor did I want to think back about the year I’ve had either.
I only wanted to think about him. Only him.
(Seven!)
Once he reached where I was standing by the fireplace, he smiled and whispered, ‘Ready?’
I nodded. Yes, I’m ready… for all of it.
I wanted to tell him that I was ready to spend the rest of my life with him. That 'soon enough' hadn’t actually come soon enough for me. But now that we were finally here, in our new home no less, I wanted to tell him–I’m ready–for whatever comes next.
I wanted to tell him that I could weather whatever the universe had in store for us, that I was stronger than I’ve ever been, especially when I had him by my side.
I didn’t say any of that though and only hooked my finger around his belt loop to pull him in closer. He’d hate it if I made him cry. After all, ‘it’s bad luck to start the new year crying’, he’d say.
(Six!)
Timmy circled his arms around my waist and pressed a soft kiss to my neck. He looked up at me and sighed. It was one of those happy noises that I still couldn't believe I was lucky enough to hear.
Do I make you happy?
I didn’t ask him that either. I didn’t need to reassure myself again, not tonight. His answer was always the same anyway.
(Five!)
“What do you wish for?” He asked me quietly, out of earshot of all our friends around us.
Stalling, I kissed his chin and felt him shiver at the soft touch of my lips. I sneaked my hands underneath the hem of his shirt and swept them across his lower back to warm him up and he sighed again.
(Four!)
I thought about it long enough. “This time next year, I hope we’ll be right where we are now. And that you’ll still want to kiss me at midnight.”
His eyes twinkled, almost the same way it did when I first laid eyes on them so many years ago.
(Three!)
“I’ll always want to kiss you.”
And I knew he meant not just at midnight on New Year’s either.
(Two!)
I’ve never grinned so wide in my entire life. How did he do it? How did he make me feel so fucking loved? So fucking whole?
Sometimes, I would lay awake at night, afraid that I didn’t deserve him, that the life we’ve painstakingly carved out for ourselves was some sort of fluke. A dream. But the way he felt in my arms that second, felt too fucking right to be anything else.
(One! Happy New Year!)
“I love you, Timmy.”
His beautiful green eyes were shining with unshed tears.
“I love you too, Armie. I’ll never stop loving you.”
When our lips met for what would be our first midnight kiss of many, I caught a glimpse of what our life would be like from now on.
If we still had this, I thought, this unnameable thing between us, it would always be enough.
Armie is moving into a new flat after a split from obnoxious now-ex-boyfriend. Timmy offers to help and while they move the heavy and very inconveniently-sized-for-the-narrow-staircase-and-no-elevator couch, sparks fly and when at the end they notice Timothée has somehow lost his keys in all of the moving mess, Armie offers a shower and a beer at his new place. (your prompt)
Uhh Nonny -- I got carried away lol. Thank you, it was fun and easy. I like when things are fun and easy.
"Tyler, please don't do this to me."
Armie felt utterly alone. The day had gotten progressively worse and he was just over it now. He needed to be in bed with his eyes closed. Certainly not pleading with his best friend on the phone, who had called to cancel on him at the last minute.
He sat down on the couch, which was getting dirtier by the second, and closed his eyes. He could hear Eli's derisive laughter echoing in his ear and felt his blood boiling.
Fuck off!
He shook his head roughly and that seemed to work. The only sounds he could hear now were of Tyler moving around on the other end of the line.
Armie never has to hear that wretched laugh ever again, he reminded himself.
He sunk back into the couch cushion, giving up on the idea of keeping the couch sweat-free. His t-shirt was drenched through and he was just so thirsty. He had broken his sunglasses earlier, so not only was the heat and exhaustion getting to him, but he was literally blinded by the sun just sitting at the side of the curb. He brought his arm up to shield his eyes.
"I'm soooo sorry Armie! I can't skip out on this meeting...I really need this sale. Could you call Ash? Maybe he can help."
Armie sighed. Typical.
"He can't come, he has an open house today."
Armie could hear Tyler swearing under his breath.
"I'll come as soon as the meeting's over, one hour...maybe two max. Just leave the heavier stuff in the van."
"Ya, alright."
Armie was too tired to point out that he's already carried most of the boxes up to the apartment, and that he managed to unload the couch and deposit it on the curb, thinking reinforcement was arriving in the form of his now-flaky-best-friend. What he really needed help with, was carrying the damn thing up five flights of stairs.
“I promise I’ll come as soon as I can,” the line went dead and Armie slipped the phone back into his pocket, and reviewed his options.
He could somehow shove the couch back into the van and wait for Tyler. He looked down at the green velvet cushion underneath him and knew his arms couldn’t take much more, he’d probably end up hurting himself.
He could just leave it here and keep an eye on it from his window upstairs. Maybe write a note and tape it to the couch, ‘please don’t touch.’ Armie laughed. The couch was in decent shape, and this wasn’t exactly the safest neighborhood in Manhattan. It would disappear the minute he turned his back on it.
Well, he could always just sit here and wait, nod at every passerby and explain he wasn’t some whackjob sitting on a coach, in the middle of the afternoon… on the sidewalk.
Armie groaned out loud.
Fuck my life.
“Are you okay? Do you need some help?”
He flinched at the sudden voice behind him, and when he got up to decline the offer, the words, 'Nah, I’m good’, got stuck in his throat when he turned to face the stranger.
The stranger was a cute boy, a very cute boy, who was looking at him with equal parts concern and amusement.
“Umm…”
Speak, goddammit, anything, you idiot!
“You’re moving into 86, right? I saw the door propped open when I was coming out and thought it might be you.”
Armie looked past the boy to the open front door of the five floor walk-up he was moving into and smacked his forehead. He had forgotten to remove the door stop.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to leave it open.”
The boy smiled and shook his head. Armie was mesmerized for a second by the way the sunlight was hitting the boy’s curls, making the boy sparkle.
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” The boy shifted from one foot to the other. “Uhhh… I live in the building too, second floor. I don’t mind helping, truly.”
The boy looked down at the couch, and Armie realized he’d been leaning one knee on it, his elbows resting on the back of the couch in an effort to close the gap between them.
Armie blushed and stood up straight. The boy pressed his lips together, waiting for Armie to answer.
“I mean… that would actually be really helpful. Yes, please.”
The boy smiled, brighter than the sun and Armie’s despair evaporated instantly.
“My name is Timmy, by the way, what’s yours?”
The boy stuck out his hand, and Armie took it with one of those bro shakes. He wasn’t sure yet.
“Armie.”
Timmy’s forehead scrunched, and it was frigging adorable.
“As in…” He mimed a salute.
Armie chuckled, well… an adorable dork.
“A-R-M-I-E, it’s short for Armand.”
“Ahhh, gotcha. Alright, where to?”
Armie winced, “Fifth floor.”
“No problem. Let me just…” The boy rolled up his sleeves (who wears long sleeves in this weather?!), and then looked at Armie expectantly.
“Alright, you want me to go first?”
Timmy considered. “How about I go first?”
“That’s cool.”
Armie bent down, and once Timmy did the same, he counted, “Alright, one, two, three–”
They lifted it up and with the two of them, Armie was pleased to find it wasn’t so heavy.
Timmy led the way into the building and when they got to the stairwell, they started to maneuver it up the stairs.
Truth be told, the boy’s hand slipped a few times, and Armie’s shoulder bore the brunt of the weight but Timmy managed to hold on and kept charging up.
By the third floor, both of them were making these grunting noises, that confused the heck out of Armie,
There was a tight spot on the third floor landing, that no matter what angle they tried, it just couldn’t go up any further.
“Alright, let’s take a breather.”
They lowered the couch down, Armie’s thighs securing the couch.
Timmy wiped a sweaty curl off his forehead while Armie stood panting in exhaustion, using the top of his shirt to fan himself. Armie thought he saw Timmy checking him out for one wild second, but the boy was only looking down at the cushions with a puzzled look.
“How are we going to get it up?” he asked.
“Okay, let me see, do you mind switching?” Timmy shook his head and once Armie was sure Timmy had a hold on the couch, he sidled up the side of the staircase, the space so small that his back was digging into the railing to take Timmy’s place. Once he was at the top, he grabbed one corner of the couch as Timmy rounded behind him to take up the rear.
As Timmy passed behind him though, with space being as tight as it was, he ended up pressed right into Armie’s back, his crotch coming dangerously close to Armie’s ass, so much so that Armie held his breath, willing his dick to behave.
Once Timmy was at the bottom of the flight of stairs, framing the couch, Armie took a moment to gage the angles. He felt his cheeks burning, and kept telling himself to calm down.
“Okay, I got it. We just need to lift the couch over the railing, like this–,” he showed Timmy with his hands, “and come up that way.” Once Timmy understood, he threw in, “Alright, now… PIVOT!”
Timmy laughed. “Can you not right now? I’m dying over here.”
Armie grinned, “Alright, on the count of three…”
After what seemed like a whole afternoon in that stairwell, they finally reached the fifth floor.
Timmy helped him carry the couch all the way to his new living room, and once it was placed in the spot Armie wanted it, they both huffed out at the same time.
“YAAS!”
“FINALLY!”
They started laughing hysterically, and when it looked like Timmy might keel over from laughter or exhaustion, Armie caught him swiftly and gently pushed him to sit on the couch.
“Thanks man, you literally saved me back there. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water please!”
Armie headed over to the fridge and took out two bottles of water. Good thing he had some, as he wasn’t about to go looking for his glasses packed away somewhere.
He handed Timmy a bottle, and unscrewed his own and nearly chugged the whole damn thing.
So. Good.
When he finished, he caught Timmy staring at him, and raised an eyebrow in question.
“Uhh sorry, I uhh – just never seen someone drink a whole bottle of water like that.. Heh.”
Timmy was blushing, and Armie thinks maybe the cute boy might be gay after all.
Armie smiled, “You know, I was feeling like all my friends abandoned me today, and could practically see Eli laughing with glee that I was struggling, so… I just… can’t thank you enough.”
Timmy shook his head and fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “It’s nothing. I’m happy to help.”
After a moment, he asked, “Who’s Eli?”
Armie observed the boy’s face. Huh, interesting. The boy looked anywhere but at Armie.
“My ex-boyfriend. I moved out this morning.”
“Oh. And you’re sad about it?”
Armie laughed. “Nope.. Best decision I ever made. He wasn’t good for me. I know it now.”
Armie looked out the window, thinking about how hard he fought to end that toxic relationship. Eli didn’t give up without a fight, and things got real messy.
“To hell with Eli then!” Timmy declared, and it made Armie smile.
“It’s actually Ellis. He hated it when I called him Eli.” They both bust out in giggles.
After a while, Timmy stood up, prompting Armie to do the same. They stood there awkwardly looking at each other until Timmy said, “Well I guess I should be going. Don’t be a stranger though, Armie. If you need anything, uhhh – where’s your phone?”
Armie wordlessly passed over his phone and Timmy keyed in his number.
“There. Call me, okay?”
The boy bit his lips and Armie nodded, grabbed Timmy’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I will, I promise.” Timmy smiled.
He walked the boy to the door and once Armie closed the door behind him, he turned around and looked at the mess of his apartment.
A minute ago, it felt like home. Now it was just a place filled with boxes. He sighed.
He was about to unpack a box of kitchenware when he heard a knock on the door. He checked his watch. Tyler’s meeting must’ve been quick.
He opened it, expecting to find Tyler’s apologetic face, but it wasn’t him.
It was Timmy, looking flustered.
“Armie…I… can’t find my keys!”
Timmy was constantly patting down his pockets, like it would miraculously appear like the philosopher’s stone if only he wished hard enough, but he came up empty. And looked at Armie, close to panic, so Armie dragged him across the threshold and sat him on the couch, his arm around him the whole time.
“Hey – it’s fine, we’ll call a locksmith. You can hang here until they come, alright?”
Timmy nodded.
“Do you want a beer?”
Timmy bit his bottom lip, thinking.
“Actually, I’m really sweaty right now. I’m dying for a shower. Do you mind?”
Armie was speechless. Who asks to shower at someone’s place they’ve only just met? But also, images of smooth, pale skin and slender hips ran in succession in Armie’s mind, and he found himself nodding.
Timmy smirked.
He got up and headed towards the shower, Armie’s eyes trailing after him. Before the door closed, Timmy poked his head out, dropped his boxers just outside the door frame and said, “Can you find me a towel?”
When Armie heard the shower turn on, he took out his phone and texted Tyler.
"Hi, my name is Trevor," he whispered in Armie's ear, "can I buy you a drink?"
The boy was sweet. He had a sweet voice and a sweet smile, just so fucking sweet that Armie could easily imagine a tender night between them filled with high-pitched moans and breathy laughter. He can imagine picking this boy up in his arms easily and doing things to him he longed to do to someone else. Someone he couldn't have.
The kid was blowing on that harmonica again, trying out different notes, frowning when one didn't quite hit the pitch he was looking for.
Armie flicked his cigarette over the side of his lawn chair, watched as the ashes drifted in the wind, then brought it back to his lips, taking a drag.
The kid's been at it a while but Armie didn't mind, only glad to have something fill in the silence.
Armie realized his eyes were closed when the fiddling stopped. When he opened them to find out why, he only found the kid looking up at him.
"What do you do around here?"
The kid was stretched out on the grass, one skinny leg crossed over the other, the harmonica lay abadonned next to him. His eyes were expectant and his bottom lip being used as a chew toy.
Armie sighed, "Look kid—"
"Timmy."
For fuck’s sake, "OK, Timmy. I told you back at the garage I'd let you stay with me on one condition. Do you remember what that was?"
"That I don't ask any questions." There's a funny glint in his eyes that Armie has a bad feeling about.
If he'd known the kid would cause trouble, he'd had left his ass back in town.
"Bingo."
"Oh come on, I'm dying here. I need conversation. Pleasseee."
Well that's just too bad, because Armie didn't want to talk.
"No."
The kid's pouting, but Armie won't budge, no matter how pretty the kid looks doing it.
Armie cursed under his breath. This has got to be some cosmic joke, some April Fool's bullshit.
The one day the Andersons closed the only motel in town for a private event happened to be the same day this kid's cheap Hyundai broke down on a nearby freeway, and Armie’s shop the only one to take his distress call.
Maybe he can make another call. Larry in the next town over might already have the spare part he's ordered. That bastard owed him one anyway.
Suddenly waiting for the part to come tomorrow, and letting the kid stay with him seemed like one huge mistake.
Especially considering the way the kid's big round eyes were looking at him now.
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I observe their silhouettes against the fireplace, their features softly lit by the flames as they converse. They make a striking pair, and I wonder, if not for the first time, whether they were more intimate than that of old school mates.
After a second more of private grief, I force myself forward. There’s business that needs to be dealt with. When I’m finally behind the wheel of the car, I look into the rearview mirror and stare at the fool reflected there. That’s not your life, Armie… someone like him can never be yours.
He knows tomorrow morning he’ll wake up alone, in a bed that never felt like his, and he’ll ache for this feeling of safety, for a possessive hand on his belly and for the man he’s found and lost in a single night. But all of that’s for tomorrow. If he refuses to open his eyes to a new day, that could only mean it’s still nighttime and he and Armie have hours still before sunrise.
