CHAPTER TWENTY NINE - ‘THIS’

Twenty days into The Agreement …

… Ten days left.

12.01 pm

As New York endured a heavy sweep of noon rainfall after such an unexpected storm the day before, Armie’s eyes peeled open to reveal a far more calming sight just inches away from his face:

Timothée’s neck.

The drip, drip, drip from gutters outside landed on Armie’s window ledge as a cool breeze wafted over bedroom carpet, infiltrating any openings around the gathered bed sheets currently draped over Armie and Tim’s naked bodies.

Tim shuffled exposed feet under the covers, the cold air tickling toes that had already been tickled far too much.

He began to wake, his body rolling over to face Armie, who welcomed him into the morning by kissing him quietly on the forehead.

The thought arrived in Armie’s mind as suddenly as the growth beneath his waist began to expand.

A thought so special and reflective of their time together first, as actors - then as friends and now as lovers.

A memory that showcased an example of them that now almost felt multiversal, parallel and strangely ironic.

Armie whispered into Tim’s lips as their faces closed in on each other.

“… Elio … Elio … Elio …”

Tim smiled, his eyes still closed, his mouth opening, his jaw lifting in a ready stretch to meet Armie in a way Armie hadn’t expected to happen so soon.

As the outside sky lit the bedroom a faint grey, Armie and Tim kissed surrounded by pillows still strong with the scent of sweat.

Armie slid long, tanned, muscular arms around Tim’s slim pale frame, bringing him closer into the depths of his blonde furry chest.

Tim’s hands journeyed down Armies stomach where they curled around a long, veiny strength, a strength that had entered him several times through the night, a strength that had made him come not just once, but twice …

“… You want to go for a third time?” Armie croaked, in surprise, his arousal lifting due to the gentle rub from Tim’s palm.

Tim burrowed curls of hair into Armie’s neck, pressing his forehead against his collarbone, a large grin spreading across a still sleepy face, his expression almost answering Armie’s question.

Armie smirked in astonishment, his internal voice congratulating him.

It happened.

This is real.

He picked Tim’s head up by his chin, taking in Tim’s green eyes, his thick eyelashes, his bushy brows and long waves of hair littering the top half of his face.

How did it get this far?

Tim broke the stare and rolled over to his back, his right hand resting over Armie’s erection, his left hand planting over his own chest; his shifting glance into the bedroom ceiling suggesting to Armie that a huge amount of overthinking might be taking place in Timothée’s mind.

Armie propped his head up with his elbow, allowing Tim to continue to massage the area beneath his waist.

“Nothing feels like it's changed …” Armie’s words purposefully didn’t arrive as a question - for a while now, he had only been stating facts. 

Tim inhaled morning air, an icy intake invading his nostrils due to the window still being half open, its view nothing but misty skyscrapers and rain.

“It was bound to happen …” Tim breathed out a sigh of content relief, his aching body rolling over so that he now lay flat on his stomach, “… I’m glad it did.”

Tim’s hand left Armie’s erection where he then shuffled over so he lay on his front, folding his arms under his head, staring at Armie with a smile.

Armie, head still propped up, could not help but simply stare at Tim in awe.

His bewilderment towards their current reality, as well as Tim’s natural beauty, baffled him in ways he struggled to describe.

“Jesus,” Armie felt his throat tighten at the sight in front of him, “Exhaustion looks good on you.”

Tim laughed into his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Did you actually just say that?”

Both young men chuckled into each other as they lay in bed, another cold breeze breaching exposed limbs.

Tim planted both hands over the mattress, lifting his upper body and twisting it around so that it faced the open window.

“Damn … It’s freezing …”

Armie grabbed Tim’s arms, yanking him closer.

Tim fell into Armie’s chest, returning to the familiar fuzz of hair covering such a broad expanse of skin.

“That’s why we’re staying here all day …”

Tim breathed his shock into Armie’s neck, “… All day? … ”

Armie pressed his face into the top of Tim’s head, “All fucking day…”

Tim grinned once again, excited by the prospect of spending so much time with Armie in bed, whilst also feeling relieved at no suggestion of tickling so far.

This time, the bondage would be metaphorical.

This physically close, this so soon after their night together - it naturally tied strings to their wrists and necks, the events lifting hands over shoulders, heads into position … 

The change between them puppeteering a gentle kiss to the lips, the neck, the jawline …

In silence, Armie and Tim allowed their arousal to grow in unison as they naturally continued to explore each other intimately. 

Now fully out of slumber, this tender moment reminded Tim of something he did not want to be reminded of. 

Tim shuffled away from Armie, laying back on his stomach, returning his head into the resting position over folded arms.

From here, Armie could make out the arch of Tim’s left armpit, as well as the thick curls of hair sprouting from its centre.

Even now, with everything considered, Armie still wanted to reach over and finger inside that highly ticklish area.

But the transformation between them, the level of respect Armie had for the event itself, as well as the individual opposite him … It made Armie keep his hands to himself.

So he lay on his side, watching Tim, patiently waiting for words to arrive, words that might shift the tone entirely, judging by the look of sudden uncertainty on Tim’s face.

“If …” Tim swallowed down, readying himself, not wanting to stutter or to slur, “… If we’re gonna chill here all day … Who, who am I chilling with?”

Armie remained still, his eyes leaving Tim’s stare where they trailed over his collarbone, arriving to stay at the shining glow of his naked back.

“You’ve got me, Tim,” he answered plainly. 

Tim thought back to the Armie who stood blunt and rude, the Armie who told Tim that he was nothing without him. 

The Armie who had strapped him up in belts, buckled and leather, who had taken the time to choose to invade one of the most sensitive areas of his body.

The Armie who felt the need to punish him, this time not to fulfil a kink or fetish but to instead re-establish control, dominance and power. 

The contrast… Tim acknowledged. 

“You were … Kinda mean, yesterday,” Tim spoke quietly and carefully, not wanting to ruin the moment but still keen to be honest, especially now they’d fu—

“—I’m sorry,” Armie didn’t hesitate in apologising.

Tim blinked.

“I … I wanted to put you in your place…” Armie raised his right hand, moving it towards Tim’s hair where fingers brushed through long tasselled curls, “… I … I went about it the wrong way. I’ve … Never acted like that, or felt the need to, with anyone before, anyone who’s been in a similar situation to the one you’re in now, Tim …”

Tim took pleasure in feeling chunks of hair slide back behind his ears as Armie neatened up his out of control curls, despite the gathering anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“There’s … others?”

Armie nodded his head, his fingertips leaving Tim’s hair, now brushing gently over his shoulder.

“You know that … I’ve paid many others to spend time with me and … Endure the kind of torment you have endured. Believe me, none have experienced the levels you have, but still, I have explored my interests with people in the past, yes …”

Tim lay still and silent on his front, patiently and calmly dealing with the sting in his chest.

“However …” a sense of urgency occupied Armie’s voice, once he felt the need to reassure, “… The only connection I had with them was physical, and purposefully momentary. With you …” he took in a breath, embracing the opening of gates, the flood of thoughts making their way out of his mouth thanks to Tim’s questioning, “… With you, it’s … Different …”

A coo, coo, coo of cold breeze filled the silence.

“What I’m trying to say is,” Armie cleared his throat, “I’m going to make mistakes. I’ve done this before, yes. But … Not like this. Not with someone as important as you.”

Tim nodded slowly in gradual understanding.

Armie had slipped.

He didn't know how to handle the situation.

Marks were overstepped.

Tim’s emotional reaction to that hadn’t been planned.

Those tears were more than just about Armie, and how he can be, Tim swallowed down that thought.

He’s not a stranger.

He thinks he knows me.

He does know me, right now, better than anyone…

Maybe he thinks he can be how he wants around me…

Do what he wants…

Say what he wants …

Fuck.

He can do whatever he likes.

He could tie me up right now and do whatever he wanted to me and I’d thank him.

Tim narrowed his eyes as he arrived at that mindset.

Without intending to, he spoke his perplexity out loud.

“I’m not gay.”

Armie couldn’t help but laugh at Tim’s blunt, out of the blue delivery.

Tim kept a straight face despite the tease of a smirk working its way over his lips.

Even he realised his announcement seemed sudden.

He sat up, leaning down on one arm. 

“No,” he said, “I’m, I’m serious … I, I know I’m straight. But, this … Us … I dunno, it doesn’t make me, or you, or, or at least it shouldn’t make us—“

“—No,” Armie sat up also, “It means we’ve experienced something, we’ve allowed something, that, like you said, was bound to happen, happen. And that sometimes comes with a lot of thought afterward, things to consider, a change in mentality, perhaps…” he placed a comforting hand on Tim’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “… You don’t have to feel anything, right now. Give it some time. Give it a chance to just … Be … ”

Tim lowered his head, once tidied up curls falling back down over his face.

He mulled over questions, doubts and scepticism - they travelled through his mind at a speedy rate, some too fast to grab onto.

He had felt the change over a week ago.

He had acknowledged the joy he received from being Armie’s sub - the satisfying weight on his shoulders, the fact that no one else on this Earth made Armie feel the way he did, except for him. 

He had even wrestled with the idea that he might even enjoy his position.

The push, the challenge, the endurance, the darkness, the hysteria, the insanity, the ability to withstand it, to control it, to get past it, to get to the end of it, to say he had succeeded, he hadn’t used the safe word, he’d made it through another day …

And then there was Armie.

He cared for Armie as a person, in a way so different from how he cared about him just three weeks ago.

Now the thought of anyone harming Armie made him feel angry.

If this were to end right now, he’d feel sad.

More than sad, he admitted.

Tim slid the top of his right hand under his chin, looking through Armie’s body as if the answers were there on the bed, on the other side.

When this does end …

What am I gonna do?

Armie laid back down, an amused smile splaying across his face.

“I love watching you wrestle with the mess you create, inside your head,” he announced, “You build the problems, the concerns, the issues, and then you struggle to flatten them out, to master them, to put them into words. Almost every thought is on full display, thanks to your face alone. It’s mesmerising …”

Tim smirked, laying down on his back.

He placed his arms by his side, not blinking, not moving … As if his entire body had to remain still, the words about to leave his mouth were too important to risk muddling up by any twitching, stumbling or erratic hand movements.

“When, when we started this I, I … Never wanted anything from you, physically. It didn’t even cross my mind. I used to think about, well, just girls, actually, before you uh, before you started controlling my, my uh —”

“—Orgasms,” Armie decided to help Tim out.

Tim nodded, closing his eyes, chuckling at Armie’s assistance.

“Yup. Those …” he took a breath, planting both hands over his stomach, “… There was zero need. I, I get that you had your secret thing, about me, and, and that’s cool, but … I didn’t have that, toward you … I’ve … Damn … ” Tim began to laugh nervously in a heavy drawl, “… I’ve, I’ve found men attractive, but I always put it down to just admiration, or confident acknowledgement that they dressed well or were talented or, or fucking smelled nice, y’know? But I’ve never thought about guys … A guy, like how I do now and … And … And …” 

Tim wanted to look at Armie, to say his next sentence whilst staring him in the eye, but he couldn’t - his apprehension got the better of him.

“… And now I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to stop thinking about …”

You.

Say it.

“… About this,” Tim finished.  

Armie felt himself deflate.

His sink into the mattress only lasted a few seconds thanks to a strong voice in his head that reminded him that it was far too soon to be talking about those three words.

This, like Tim had described, was big enough.

Armie took in a breath.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Tim …” he exhaled calmly, “… We’ve acted these moments out, again and again, day after day…” he slid his fingers out across the sheets where they journeyed up to Tim’s left hand, curling around it, holding it reassuringly, “I think … This … Has been here all along, I think my honesty, my suggestion on writing up a contract, The Agreement as a whole … I think it reignited something that we once played out in front of cameras and, and now, it’s—”

Tim used his free hand to hide his face.

“—Fuck,” he muttered in distress. 

Armie shuffled closer into Tim, his movements asking ‘what’s wrong?’ without saying anything out loud. 

“What the fuck do we do now?” Tim asked, his body naturally sinking into Armie’s as Armie wrapped arms around his lee, pulling him in closer, “What happens after I move out, what happens after the next ten days are up? What happens whe—“

Armie manoeuvred Tim so that Tim’s back pressed up against his chest.

“—You’ve kept count,” Armie kissed the back of Tim’s neck, “I’m honoured …” his lips trailed down Tim’s spine where they began to near his lower waist.

Tim’s jaw widened, his eyes falling shut, just in time for Armie to start kissing around the cheeks of his rear.

Tim grabbed that pillow, his teeth clamping down over the cotton surface, biting it like he had done many times the night before.

Another “Fuck…” this one more breathless, this one less consumed by fear or apprehension.

As Armie devoured Tim’s erection with his mouth, below bedsheets and underneath covers, Tim peeled his eyes open and glared watering eyes out through the open window.

“What do w-we do now?” He repeated in a whisper.

Armie’s lips left the tip of Tim’s arousal where they instead brushed their way back up his sides, arriving below the lobe of his right ear.

Tim smiled as Armie delivered his answer.

“Now, we order pizza.”

1.57 pm

Using pizza as a temporary pause, Armie decided to answer Tim’s question with an honest and clear answer.

Standing in the kitchen, in the dressing gown he had used to conceal his nudity when opening the door to a pizza delivery man now all too accustomed to arriving at this apartment, Armie made sure to form his answer in a way that would not scare or offend Tim. 

The pizzas sat in their closed boxes on the kitchen side whilst Armie opened the refrigerator, his nipples hardening at the cold press of air greeting his bare chest.

He picked out two bottles of Chardonnay and then took bare feet over chilly tiles, towards cupboards containing wine glasses.

He scooped the bottles under one arm and then in each hand he held the pizza box and glasses, expertly carrying the load upstairs.

Tim lay playing with his phone, scrolling past one thousand, two thousand, three thousand DM’s from the over seventeen million Instagram followers that had messaged him or tagged him in posts over the past twenty four hours. 

Armie’s arrival made him glance over, but the booze under his arms made him sit up.

“Wine? It’s …” Tim looked down at his iPhone, “… Oh shit, it’s nearly two … Did we sleep most of the morning?”

Armie lay the pizza box out over the bed, placing both bottles of wine down at the bedside table.

He climbed back into their temporary nest and twisted the cap off the first bottle of wine, “We didn’t finish till around five a.m, kid … You’ve sure got stamina, that’s all I’ll say …”

Tim felt his cheeks blush red as he watched Armie pour out two large glasses of crystal amber liquid. 

Armie handed Tim a glass, gathering up bed sheets and blankets as they both sat cross legged opposite each other.

Tim held his glass up by Armie’s as Armie readied a cheers.

Armie opened his mouth, expecting something profound to leave his own lips, but when he realised that no words could describe how happy he felt, nor how changed he was by events that had taken place in the very bed they sat on, he simply looked Tim in the eye and smiled.

Tim laughed into his lap, Armie’s intense stare practically working as a finger that pressed deep into the core of his own exposed vulnerability. 

They clinked their glasses together and then at the same time they downed half of the contents at once.

They then sat in silence as they allowed the warmth of the wine to hit the pit of their stomach, taking the edge off the situation within seconds.

“I … I want to be clear about something, Timothée …” Armie perched his wine on his lap as he looked into the bedsheets, clearing his mouth of booze.

Tim gulped down some acid creeping up his throat from such a big gulp of wine.

Still naked, still tired and now concerned by Armie’s formal tone, Tim mustered a weak, “Al, alright …”

Armie pulled his eyes away from the mattress and offered Tim a sincere look.

“I … I want you to know that our agreement, the contract … Last night, it hasn’t put an end to any of that. I … I still want to make the most of the last ten days we have, with you as my lee …” Armie narrowed his stare, enforcing his point, however this time his eyes shot towards Tim’s right armpit, “… I still want to tickle you.”

Tim felt his arms squeeze against his sides, his glass resting under his lower lip as he looked at Armie in hesitant understanding. 

He couldn’t help but think …

Why does this feel like a warning?

Armie continued.

“The only difference now is that … As the sessions happen, you’re no longer just my lee, or, or my sub … You’re someone I … Someone I’ve grown to …”

Tim kept his wine glass under his lip, on pause, unsure if he wanted to hear the words Armie seemed to be readying his mouth to say.

“… Someone I’ve grown closer to …”

Tim felt his shoulders drop in a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment.

He took a slow sip of his wine, allowing the warmth of the alcohol to comfort his insides. 

“I get it,” Tim cleared his throat, “No, it’s cool. That’s uh, that’s what you’re paying for, after all…”

Armie opened up the pizza box, revealing a giant circle of bubbling cheese and shimmering pepperoni.

“Well, I’d like to imagine a time where you allow me to explore you in such a way, without financial gain,” Armie revealed in a light hearted chuckle, picking up a slice and handing it to Tim, “However, unlike my recent dreams that have come true, that one feels a little far fetched …”

Tim received his slice of pizza, admiring the toppings before sending it into his mouth.

As he chewed down, he took the time to realise that Armie had made it clear that he wanted things like this to happen once The Agreement had ended. 

He had suggested some form of a future, of intimacy without contracts and paperwork, formalities or transactions.

Tim swallowed down his first bite, deciding to respond to Armie’s words playfully.

“Play your cards right …” Tim teased, taking another bite.

Armie appreciated Tim’s dangle of the carrot.

He appreciated that Tim tried to make out he was in control, like he still knew what he was doing after all this time.

Don’t worry, Timmy, thought Armie.

I’ll get what I want.

I always do, and I just have.

Armie peeled a slice of pizza away from the greasy cardboard surface.

“I have something else I’d like to make clear,” he bit into the end before it had a chance to droop down and stain the sheets, “Something important.”

Tim took a third bite, holding the slice with one hand and his glass of wine with the other.

“Yikesh, all of the revelations today …” Tim mumbled with his mouth full.

Armie licked his lips, taking another sip of wine.

“I … I didn’t mean the things I said last night. My praise, to you and your stardom, your career - yes, to me, that is one hundred percent truth, and is something I’d wanted to tell you for a long time, way before all this. But … ’you’re nothing without me’ … That’s not true, Tim. It was just me, in the moment, being an assho—“

“—Playing a role,” Tim corrected with a knowing nod, “You were playing a role, and, and it’s cool, I get it. I … I got upset because I was overwhelmed, not because I took it personally. And, besides …” Tim took in the details of his pizza as he thought about being the most honest with Armie, and himself, as he possibly could, “… Maybe you’re right.”

Armie laid his slice down over the pizza box, shaking his head adamantly. 

“No,” he urged, “No, no way. It was just a, a venomous thing to say, to, to add an element of—“

Tim waved his pizza in the air in an attempt to silence Armie.

“—No, man, seriously, without you, without your support, I’d, I’d have no apartment, I’d have no way to pay back those who’ve … I’d, I’d have nothing after this is all over…” Tim lay his slice down, both hands curling around his glass of wine, “… My … Open minded-ness, I guess? It’s given you something and, you’ve, you’ve given me something. You’ve helped me…”

Armie tilted his head, “That, to me, is simply fair. It always has been.”

Tim took a sip of his wine, understanding that they both needed each other but uncertain as to who needed the other person more.

“I guess all I’m trying to say is thank you,” Tim spoke positively, another sip of wine passing his lips, this one more a glug, this time finishing the glass entirely, “For ss-supporting me. Even if some of the shit you put me through does drive me … Fucking insane,” a hiccup or two followed Tim’s words.

Armie filled up Tim’s glass, an entertained smile splayed across his face.

“Before you ask,” Armie admitted, “Yes, I am hoping to get you drunk …”

Tim chuckled as he watched the Chardonnay reach the top.

“… And, you’re welcome,” Armie whispered, before clinking his glass against Tim’s for the second time, “It’s without a doubt been my pleasure.”

2.35 pm

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

Twinkling car lights littered wet streets, trailing through the betweens of skyscrapers like a trickling stream made entirely out of electricity. 

As Tim chewed on his third slice of pizza, he too decided to reflect on things that shouldn’t have been said. 

“I want to make something clear,” he announced, in the same way Armie had, a mischievous grin forming over his face. 

Armie took a big bite out of his pizza’s crust, chomping down on it with fierce strength. 

“Here he goesh …” he smirked, refilling his own glass of wine.

Tim held his pizza crust with his thumb and index finger, pointing it at Armie assertively.

“… I didn’t mean what I said either, when uh … When I said you reminded me of him.”

Armie’s face dropped.

Miller.

Even in the most intimate of moments, that fucker still worms his way in somehow.

Armie took a sip from his glass, smearing some overspill away from the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Well, you too were playing a role,” he decided, “And I, like you, didn’t take it personally.”

Tim nodded slowly, pursing his lips.

“So, so that’s it?” He asked, lifting his shoulders, picking up a fourth slice, “We’re cool? Everything … Everything’s cool …?”

Tim slumped into the pillow, eyeing his slice before picking off the very tip with his teeth.

Armie moved under the sheets, sitting beside Tim, stretching his legs out underneath the covers.

“Yes. Sometimes, things are easy. This… Right now … Is easy. It’s effortless and it’s relaxed and we understand each other, we’re on the same page … And that’s okay. Sometimes you just have to—”

Tim chewed on his pizza, swallowing down, turning to face Armie with a smirk. “—Lean into it?” He asked playfully.

Armie grinned, reaching his arm around Tim, pulling him in closer.

“You got it, kid.”

He kissed the side of Tim’s head as the rain outside continued to tumble.

Tim took in a breath, sighing deeply as he flattened his lips.

He laid his pizza down over the box, freeing one hand whilst keeping his glass of wine in the other.

He then randomly reached over to Armie’s lap and, over the bedsheets, located Armie’s bulge, curling his fingers around it, offering it a firm and sudden squeeze.

To Tim’s surprise, Armie wasn’t as hard as he had hoped.

Armie glanced down at Tim’s touch, keeping his head facing below, eyeing Tim’s grasp.

He then laid down his pizza and with his free hand, he reached over to Tim’s lap and actioned the same movement, however instead of finding a semi erect chunk, Armie’s hand held onto a solid, rigid erection.

Tim turned his head to gaze at his muscle gathered in Armie’s grasp.

Armie shaped out its length, under the white cotton of the linen sheets.

“You’ve been like this all morning, haven’t you…” Armie delivered his words once again as a factual statement, not a question.

Tim nodded, his nose breathing in the scent of wine as he hovered the glass beneath his nostrils.

“Since the second time we—,” 

Armie gently rubbed the stiffness as Tim closed his eyes.

“—You enjoy being new to this …” Armie decided.

Tim bit his lower lip as Armie caressed his erection, with only a thin layer of bedding between Armie’s palm and Tim’s arousal.

“I … I think, ju-just, just being here … Not knowing what’s going to happen next …”

Tim planted his glass of wine over at his own bedside table.

He then returned to his seated position, where Armie’s grasp maintained its firm hold.

“I uh,” Tim ran both hands through his hair, “I guess I find it kinda exciting.”

Armie smirked, his hand leaving Tim’s solid shape for a few seconds, only to pick at the bed sheets edge and peel them away from Tim’s lower body, revealing his cock. 

Armie laid the sheets down around Tim’s legs.

Tim now sat with most of his naked form exposed from the knee up.

Outside, a distant rumble of thunder.

Tim folded his arms around his chest confidently as he glanced down at his solid muscle standing tall and strong, smooth and hairless, veins thick and proud.

Tim went to curl his right hand around his own erection, but Armie’s fingertips pressed against Tim’s, gently forcing Tim’s hand back towards his chest.

“I’m still in charge…” Armie reminded, allowing Tim to realise that just because their experience last night had been so freeing didn’t mean that Tim would be allowed to grant himself pleasure whenever he felt like it.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, nodding in reluctant understanding. 

3.40 pm

Armie drew a gentle line down the length of Timothée’s back as the clouds outside darkened, threatening more heavy rainfall from a storm outside that refused to move on.

Tim lay on his front, his arms folded, his head resting over his wrists, his iPhone on the other side of the bed playing a chilled playlist from his Spotify account.

Armie lay on his side, exploring Tim’s body with an index finger that had done so much to this boy, had discovered so many sensitive areas …

Had entered a place of pure vulnerability.

A tipsy haze hovered between them both after consuming two bottles of wine.

Tim’s eyelids felt heavy thanks to too many slices of pizza, as well as the Chardonnay warming his stomach.

The only thing keeping him from falling asleep was Armie’s index finger, now trailing across his left side in a gentle draw, causing Tim to pull his shoulders back and grin into the pillow.

“Stay still,” Armie whispered, his erection growing beneath the bed sheets, “I want to take in my favourite parts of you …”

Tim lifted his head from the pillow and rested it back over his wrists, just in time for Armie to make sure that the covers were suitably peeled away from Tim’s body, leaving him naked and a little cold due to the wet breeze blowing into the bedroom through a still open window.

Tim crossed his legs at the ankle, enjoying the hard press of his own cock currently squished underneath him, relaxing as much as he could, despite Armie’s finger gravitating closer towards his left armpit.

Without speaking, Armie communicated to Tim his treasured areas, the spots on his body he loved to tickle the most.

With no aggression or sudden attack, Armie simply moved his finger into Tim’s left armpit where he stroked curls of mousy brown hair, gliding the fingertip over moist, warm skin where it circled around the central delve that made up the middle of Tim’s underarm.

Tim bit his lower lip, the need to pull his arms down and clamp them against his sides almost overwhelming.

But he had been asked to stay still …

Thankfully, Armie’s finger left Tim’s pit sooner than he thought it would, now travelling around his neck in a gentle brush where it pressed lightly into his suprasternal notch. 

No words …

Just a smile and a knowing gaze that told Tim, ‘I know how much you hate being tickled here’.

Tim closed his eyes, goosebumps exploding around his throat as Armie drew his index finger back over his shoulder, down his spine and around the bottom of his back.

Armie shuffled further down the bed to explore Tim’s body fully. 

As he did so, Tim noticed how hard his tickler had become, far more solid than the last time he had checked just half an hour or so ago …

Tim smiled in satisfaction, his butt cheeks clenching as Armie circled his waist and hips, now using two fingers to outline shapes across his silky smooth pale skin.

Tim gasped quietly as Armie slid those fingers between his rear, gently and quietly, without warning. 

Tim could feel the warmth of Armie’s palm press his thighs apart, exposing one of the most sensitive areas on Tim’s body, an area tormented yesterday whilst Tim had been strapped into a bondage device now laying uselessly and discarded on the bedroom floor.

Armie stroked Tim’s taint with three fingers.

Tim felt his cheeks boil red as he hugged the pillow, biting into it as he had done just sixteen hours ago.

He pulled his legs back together, but Armie pushed them apart, repeating his order in a stern whisper.

“… Keep still …”

Tim sighed out of distress, allowing Armie to force his legs apart, where he continued to brush Tim’s taint in a repetitive stroke.

Tim kicked his left leg once, then his right leg twice, like some rabbit shot with a taser.

Tim breathed out through his nose as Armie’s fingers reduced their presence from three to one, the index finger now gliding carefully and slowly down his left thigh, over the soft expanse of flesh that made up the back of his knee, past a long calf and down towards a bony ankle …

Armie uncrossed Tim’s ankles, laying both feet out over the mattress, the tops resting into cotton, the soles facing up, staring Armie in the eye.

Tim sniffed in, relieved Armie’s touch had left his behind but concerned also for the fact that Armie now had both of his feet set up and on display.

Armie pressed his index finger into the heel of Tim’s right foot.

He then gently dragged it down Tim’s sole, the nail travelling over skin not marked or cut, bruised or blistered - skin that screamed hyper sensitive, flawless, unbearably ticklish …

Tim found his teeth once again clamping down over the pillow.

His toes curled, their long, fleshy lengths flexing out over the bed. 

Then they scrunched up, just as Armie’s index finger reached his big toe.

Armie actioned the same movement with Tim’s left foot, his free hand now rubbing himself as he watched Tim’s toes react in the same way.

More thunder outside - this time closer.

As raindrops landed heavily over the concrete ledges outside Armie’s apartment windows, Armie picked up Tim’s right foot and began to kiss its sides.

Tim felt his weight sink into the mattress.

He endured and enjoyed the worship at the same time as Armie’s facial hair brushed over the delicacy that made up Tim’s foot.

Nobody in his entire life had paid this much attention to his feet before.

Nobody would ever pay this much attention to his feet again.  

To Armie’s surprise, Tim began to lift his waist.

Tim used his right hand to push his own erection between his legs, laying back down on his stomach afterward.

Now in a more comfortable position, Tim had not only relieved the frustrating squash of arousal from beneath him, but he had also offered his cock out to Armie, where it now lay solid, throbbing and in reaching distance.

Armie lifted Tim’s foot, his knee bending slightly.

Crouched around Tim’s legs, Armie took Tim’s toes inside his mouth and began to suck on each of them, one by one, whilst he stroked Tim’s hard on with his free hand.

“Mn …” 

Tim wanted to keep the moan behind his lips, but doing so felt more challenging than he could currently handle.

“… Man …” Tim whispered, “… Don’t stop …”

Armie smirked, his lips sucking on Tim’s index toe as if it were a piece of candy.

“How does it feel?” Armie asked in a Chardonnay-filled murmur, “How does it feel, knowing that I’ve … ” Armie’s touch left Tim’s erection momentarily, where his finger pressed carefully between Tim’s thighs, “… Knowing that I and I only have had you, in this way …?”

“Mnn…” Tim winced as Armie applied further pressure over that space, turning his head, looking over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Armie’s.

“Do it again,” he allowed, “I, I want you to …”

Armie nodded slowly.

Tim turned his head back around, resting it over a pillow he once again hugged in anticipation.

He lay there waiting, nerves filling his chest, his erection producing its first drop of pre cum. 

He listened as Armie sucked on a finger, coating it in a thick layer of saliva. 

From one sensitive sensation to the next, he then felt Armie’s wet fingertip press gently against his hole.

Tim clenched his teeth as Armie massaged the area in a circular motion.

He curled his toes, allowing the area to consume Armie’s finger as soon as the long length moved it’s way inside of him.

As Armie rubbed against his prostate, Tim stifled groans quietly into his arms, his lips parting, his mouth staying open.

“Talk to me, Tim …” Armies finger deepened its entry as he continued to suck on the toes of Tim’s right foot, “… Tell me, describe it to me …”

Tim kept his eyes closed, his lips brushing over the hairs of his arms as he spoke.

“Do-doing this, w-with you … It’s … It’s … ”

Fuck, Tim cussed within the centre of his mind.

You’re losing your breath already--

“… -- I’ve, I’ve never felt like this be-be-be … ” Tim bit his upper lip, “… It makes me feel powerful, the, the feeling of being so, so needed … So …”

Tim’s eyes widened as the return of intense, back-arching arousal presented itself in the form of an important ache, all gathering around the pressured press of Armie’s index finger.

“… So …?” Armie spoke into Tim’s big toe, his adoring eyes taking in its shape and beauty before encapsulating it with his mouth.

Tim clenched his teeth as Armie’s tongue began its tickling.

In such a moment of high vulnerability, he pushed his admittance to the next level with a full focus on complete honesty.

“I’ve, I’ve never come like that before,” he said, his free foot now finding its way towards Armie’s erection, where his toes curled around its length willingly, “I’ve, I’ve never come without touching myself…”

Armie felt air leave his lips without his consent as Tim’s sole brushed against the tip of his erection.

Armie paused, knowing full well how the next five minutes would go if he were to continue.

With so much Chardonnay creating such a blur between them both, Armie decided to put the act on pause, if only for a moment. 

With all of his inner strength, he pulled his mouth away from Tim’s toes and gently laid his foot back down over the mattress.

He chose to acknowledge Tim’s statement whilst carefully taking Tim’s foot away from his cock, placing it down over the sheets.

He then carefully slid his finger out from inside Tim, its tip leaving Tim’s taint in a gentle stroke.

He then crawled towards his lee, laying back down beside him, returning that index finger over Tim’s spine, where it drew its way up to Tim’s neck, around his jaw and then over his lips.

Tim kissed Armie’s finger, smiling as he did so.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Armie whispered, the finger circling around curls of Tim’s hair, “And to think, this is just the beginning …”

Armie swallowed down regret, fully aware of the anxiety creeping up his throat at both pushing down his demonic side whilst also creating a narrative that, between he and Tim, this was just the start of a long, healthy, exciting sexual relationship …

Something Tim might not want.

Something Tim might be scared of.

To Armie’s surprise, Tim grinned and shuffled closer towards him, where they both kissed just in time for another distant rumble of thunder. 

5.06 pm

Armie turned the hall lights on, letting a stream of yellow shine into an otherwise dimly lit bedroom overcast by the deepening grey outside.

He stood in just a t-shirt, erection still strong, long, tanned legs taking his tall frame over to the candles at the bedside table.

He handed Tim a box of matches, turning toward two new bottles of wine over at the desk.

He strolled towards them, his plump ass offering Tim the sight of a gentle wobble with every step he took.

“You said you feel powerful, after what happened …” Armie closed the bedroom window, shutting off sirens and traffic, rainfall and tyres rolling over puddles thirty feet below, “Care to elaborate on that?”

Tim sat up, keen to hide his minimal yet present sense of alarm at Armie’s need to enquire further.

He struck a match confidently, taking the flickering flame over to the candles carefully, lighting each one before offering his answer.

“Armie … The way you are, with me. The way you… You worship me? The amount you’re willing to pay?" Tim shook the match until the flame wafted away, “Wouldn’t you feel powerful, if someone was being like that with you?”

Armie picked up the third bottle of wine, carrying it over to Tim where he swapped it for the box of matches, hiding his frustration in Tim’s decision to answer the question with another question.

Without thinking about it, he did the same.

“Want me to go to your room and choose a t-shirt for you, or you alright with one of mine?”

Tim nodded towards Armie’s wardrobe, twisting the cap off the bottle of wine.

Armie turned around, once again offering Tim a sight of his behind, the hallway light cupping the curve of his rear almost too perfectly. 

Armie opened his wardrobe doors and began to finger through way too many polo shirts until he found a tee.

“You need to understand something, Timothée …” Armie pulled a plain green t-shirt off the hanger, carrying it back toward a bed now gently lit by the flickering flames of bedside candle light, “… And I hope you don’t take offence by what I’m about to say…”

Tim took the t-shirt from Armie, throwing it over his head as Armie climbed back onto his side of the mattress.

“Oh, this sounds promising,” Tim chuckled, another hiccup leaving his lips.

Armie slid back under the sheets, resting his head over the pillow, tucking one arm behind his head as Tim’s iPhone continued to play out relaxing music despite a dying battery.

“You need to understand that power doesn’t come from being offered, or given, a large sum of money,” Armie licked lips made dry by too many glasses of wine, “Power comes from, from patience, knowing, under, understanding … I’m grateful, beyond words, that you chose this avenue instead of waiting for the pandemic to retreat, for your work to start again, it’s made me, personally, very happy … But you still would’ve remained as the Timothée Chalamet, if you had decided not to do this… You still would’ve remained powerful,” Armie turned to face Tim, now laying on his side, “… Your fame, your power … It’s going nowhere.”

Tim blinked quietly as he took in Armie’s words.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t endure these sessions with a sense of accomplished arrogance - a God-like feeling of adored devotion only felt by someone in his position, bound and tormented in such a unique way, by someone who would pay insane amounts of money to make it happen.

Whilst physically out of control and lacking power completely, Tim had, in some ways always been the one in full control, the one with the most power between them. 

“Believe me,” Tim now lay on his side too, his face inches away from Armie’s, “I get it. I … Might not quite understand power when it comes to the things we do … But, I get it, outside of us.”

Armie brushed his thumb over Tim’s chin.

“In your personal life?”

Tim lifted his shoulders, his right hand resting on Armie’s waist casually, the space between them warming up now that Armie had closed the window.

“I guess I mean more my career … The, the money thing, it’s … Security. But my power as a, a famous person?” Tim cringed as the words came out of his mouth, “I’ve got that mastered? I think? Well, I almost did … I, I had a plan …”

Armie raised his eyebrows.

“And what is this ‘plan’?”

Tim curled his toes as Armie’s feet brushed against his heels.

“Uh,” Tim swallowed down, shuffling around so that his back faced Armie, “I’m, I’m not telling you… “

Armie slid closer to Tim, his chest now pressing up against Tim’s back, his erection pressing into Tim’s behind.

He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight, his fingers nearing the delves of Tim’s underarms.

“… Tell me …” Armie warned in a deep growl.

Tim lifted his knees towards his stomach, unintentionally gathering his feet around Armie’s thighs.

With such a ticklish offering in reaching distance, Armie caught Tim’s ankles between his knees, kissing the back of Tim’s neck as he did so.

“Well,” Tim cleared his throat, worried by how caught up his feet were between Armie’s legs, “I was going to choose wisely. Pick my projects carefully, take some advice I’d got from a friend: No drugs, no superhero movies …”

“Ahh …” Armie kept Tim close to his chest by ensuring his arm sat securely around the young man's chest, “… A structured, thought out path …” he kissed Tim’s neck again, once, twice, three times …

Tim quietly and secretly began to touch his own hard on, without Armie knowing.

He blamed such a reckless decision to do so on the Chardonnay.

“… And, when promoting a movie, I’d, I’d level up my style …” Tim closed his eyes, picturing the things he might’ve worn to events and premieres, outfits that would’ve broken the internet whilst securing his ‘power’ as a fashion icon, “… Wear something special, different to what I’d usually wear on the red carpet … Stuff that’s more ‘me’ … ” Tim bit his upper lip as he felt Armie’s fingertips brush against his soles, “… Fuck, man, come on—“

“—Go on …” Armie whispered into Tim’s shoulder, the palm over his chest sliding down to Tim’s stomach, curling around Tim’s hand, stopping it from touching an area only Armie could allow Tim to touch… “And don’t try that again…”

Tim nodded slowly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

“… I’d, I’d do the interviews and the talk shows and then I’d disappear … “ Tim’s right hand reached below and behind him, in an attempt to catch Armie’s fingers currently dancing over the bottoms of his feet, feet stuck firmly between Armie’s knees, “… Fuck, I’d, I’d go off ra-ha-ha-ha-dar … Complete ra-radio silence, un-until I’d need to pr-promote something again …”

Armie scratched gently into Tim’s right arch, ignoring Tim’s clawing.

“And let me guess - another wild outfit, another shocking moment … A return to form, and then nothing after that?” Armie asked.

Tim nodded quickly, finding enough strength to pull his feet away from Armie’s grasp.

Armie pressed his mouth into Tim’s back.

“Genius,” he mumbled into the t-shirts cotton.

Tim sighed, rubbing his own fingertips over the soles of his feet, removing itchiness left by Armie’s tickling.

“I guess I can’t live that out anytime soon.”

Rain pattered against Armie’s apartment windows, a wet outside still in lockdown like the rest of the world …

Armie pulled Tim closer towards him, embracing his warmth, his slim frame, applying another reassuring squeeze.

“You will one day,” Armie said, “I know it.”

6.50 pm

In their carb-coma and Chardonnay infused state, both Armie and Tim fell victim to the warmth and darkness whilst laying together in bed. 

They napped for almost an hour and a half until Tim woke up with the need to pee.

Since the events in Atlanta, when an urge like that came along Tim would no longer hesitate in relieving himself almost immediately. 

Darkness covered all of New York as Tim pulled the flush and made his way out of Armie’s ensuite bathroom.

Armie now sat perched at the window’s inside ledge, cradling two glasses of wine, yawning as his blue eyes stared out through the glass and into a city drenched in bad weather.

Tim passed yellow hall lights shining into the unlit bedroom, his bare feet walking over carpet and towards Armie where he too perched down on the window ledge at the opposite side.

Armie handed Tim his glass.

“You could’ve gone anytime,” Armie tried his best not to slur, “Why stay?”

Tim took the glass and rested it over his right knee in thought.

The Tim three weeks ago would have answered plainly and simply, ‘Because I need the money’.

The Tim right now had different reasons. 

“I stay because, I …” Tim took a sip of wine, more out of thirst than the need for confidence, “… I stay because I love spending time with you. You’re my best friend, man,” he stretched his right foot over to Armie, his toes brushing up against Armie’s calf.

Armie ran his finger over the edge of his glass, avoiding Tim’s gaze.

“You’re making out like all we’ve done is drink, eat take out and watch television for three weeks,” Armie looked back out of the window, bringing his glass just under his mouth, “I think that powerful feeling you get, from the things we do, that’s what’s really tied you here,” Armie stifled a hiccup, taking a sip of wine.

Tim could sense that Armie wanted him to announce a declaration, some kind of truth that reassured Armie that Tim was here because he had developed feelings for him, or because he could not live without him, because he needed him more than words could describe.

“Is it so hard for you to understand,” Tim really wanted to take down a large glug but he forced himself to go on without further dutch courage, “That I, I might’ve enjoyed some of all of this?”

This time Armie had no choice but to look Tim in the eye.

Tim shuffled forward.

He landed his right hand on Armie’s right knee, his fingers creeping up towards the top of Armie’s thigh.

Armie’s glance left Tim’s face where it landed on his lap, just in time for Tim to curl his fingers around Armie’s cock.

“You …” Armie swallowed down, “… You said you, you find the, not knowing ex, exci—“

“—Outside of this apartment,” Tim interrupted, his eyes never leaving Armie’s, “Before everything went weird in the world,” he smiled as the hardness began to gather within his palm, “I had control. I was the boss of me…” Tim moved in closer, his lips pressing against Armie’s, his words breathless and warm, “… In here, I’m not.”

Armie sat now fully erect in Tim’s grasp.

His fast blinking eyes looked down at Tim’s cock, also hard and a little caught behind his t-shirt.

“You most certainly aren’t,” Armie declared.

He took Tim’s glass of wine away from him and calmly sat it down beside his own, on the windows ledge.

He then spun around and threw both hands into Tim’s sides, grabbing at his ribs in a sudden and unannounced tickle.

Tim scrunched into a ball, his face creased in hysteria, laughter caught in the middle of his throat as Armie’s fingers made their way up towards his armpits.

Tim pressed his arms against his sides, closing off vulnerable areas, his attempt at ‘self protection’.

Tim shoved his forehead into Armie’s chest, attempting to push him off, but Armie stood away from the ledge and practically tickled Tim into submission, forcing him away from the window and over to the bed, his hands travelling speedily up and down Tim’s upper body.

Tim could barely speak, the breath in his lungs leaving his chest in an exasperated panic, his grin clenched and manic, his legs kicking and flailing outward as he landed on the mattress with a bounce, Armie’s weight now empowering him entirely. 

Armie used his strength to consume Tim’s frame by laying over him, his fingers still dancing over his sides.

Tim twisted and writhed, his feet pressing down over the end of the bed, his body bucking and bouncing under Armie’s attack.

Armie took hold of both of Tim’s wrists and pinned them above his head, straddling his waist with his thighs.

He then used his right hand to keep Tim’s hands above him whilst his left hand grabbed at Tim’s t-shirt, yanking it upward until it left Tim’s head and arms, leaving him completely naked.

In the darkness, both young men looked at each other.

Armie’s glare warned Tim this would be happening, regardless of how much he fought back.

Tim’s stripped capture and wide eyed panic told Armie, ‘do your worst’.

After only a few seconds of hesitation, Armie increased the weight of his pin over Tim’s wrists whilst using his other hand to tickle Tim’s armpits, his fingers dancing from the left pit to the right pit, his body riding Tim’s violent reactions expertly.

Tim arched his back and threw out his feet, kicking into the air madly as he bellowed laughter from chest through to throat, out through lips stained with wine, his curls of hair now littering the front of his face.

Seeing Tim in such a natural, naked state of hysteria, on a bed they had spent all day lounging on, so unable to move purely down to Armie’s strength … It made Armie rock solid, desperate for more, keen to devour completely. 

Tim spluttered and coughed, wheezed and tried to verbalise words, his cheeks bright red, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth twisted into a distorted form of an overly happy grin.

The more constant Armie tickled each armpit, the less sure Tim felt about how long he would remain in each spot - therefore, the quicker he spun, the faster he squirmed, the more breathless he became.

The sound of Tim’s inability to control the volume and depth of madness leaving the pit of his stomach aroused Armie more than he could bear.

He let go of Tim’s wrists.

Tim’s arms covered his chest straight away, his hands cupping under each of his pits as he closed his eyes and heaved in and out, in and out, in and out…

“Jesus,” Tim allowed Armie to kiss his neck, his shoulder, the side of his head, “You’re relentless …” he coughed.

Armie’s lips made their way toward Tim’s right ear where he began to whisper devious suggestions.
Tim’s arms wrapped around Armie’s back as Armie instructed him, his whispers organised but fast, calm yet excited, the things Armie spoke so quietly further increasing Tim’s hard on with every single word that brushed over Tim’s earlobe.

Armie looked at Tim, reading his face for a full sign of consent and understanding.

Tim nodded, a playful grin decorating his face, his body already moving eagerly into position …

7.25 pm

Armie dropped his t-shirt onto the carpet.

He lay on his back, the candles flames still lighting an otherwise dark bedroom a gentle orange. 

The storm outside had passed. 

New York now existed as a city drenched in wet nighttime.

Armie smothered his erection in baby oil.

The shimmering liquid landed on the tip and then rolled down the shaft, gathering at its base in a silky puddle.

Tim stood naked, over Armie, with his back to him.

Armie looked up at his obsession, his plaything, his best friend, his partner in all of this, with all of his titles in all of his beauty in all of his ways …

Armie kept the baby oil in hand as his other hand reached up to Tim’s left thigh, curling around it, gently urging him down.

Tim lowered himself, now in a kneeling position, each of his legs over Armie’s waist. 

Armie raised his arm and poured baby oil down Tim’s back.

The glistening rolls dribbled down his shoulders and spine, over his hips and past each of his cheeks, dripping off to land on Armie’s stomach.

Armie threw the baby oil across the bedroom.

He then slapped his hands onto Tim’s back.

Tim winced, his teeth biting down over his bottom lip.

Armie ran his palms over Tim’s body, massaging the baby oil into his skin, working his way down the bottom of his spine and around each of Tim’s ass cheeks where continued to rub the liquid into the depths of Tim’s behind.

Tim felt his arousal stiffen, his eyes close, his body warm up.

“Just sit down,” Armie whispered breathlessly, “Like I told you …”

Tim nodded quickly.

Still in the knelt position, he pressed both lips together and began to lower himself down.

Armie rubbed himself, angling his erection into a straight up, stiff point.

Tim’s eyes widened as he felt Armie’s girth press against his hole.

He paused, hesitating on lowering himself further, but the want to feel the same way he felt last night became too overwhelming, in spite of the risk of sharp pain.

Tim relaxed his hips and parted his thighs, now low enough to place both hands on the mattress.

He clawed into the bed sheets as he mounted Armie, acknowledging his strength and size as he entered him, smiling in undeniable pleasure as he felt the width fit snugly into his own depth, a depth now consuming Armie’s arousal entirely.

Tim felt his cock twitch into a steady harden.

Armie, lying with his mind blown at the sight of his own erection sliding into Tim as Tim lowered himself down onto it, lifted his hands and began to run them carefully over the length of Tim’s back.

From his position, Armie could only see Tim’s ass, legs, spine, and a head full of curls …

Tim held onto Armie’s thighs as he began to move his behind over Armie’s cock.

He rolled his hips and gyrated his waist forwards and backwards.

Both young men moaned in joyful satisfaction - Armie taking in every inch of Tim’s body from the grooves that made up his shoulder blades to the way his hole took all of his own arousal almost too neatly.

Tim moved hard and fast, enjoying a feeling newly discovered, one he could explore with someone he trusted in ways he couldn’t describe. 

A confidence washed over him, a secure sense of self awareness that said, ‘you want this, you can have it’.

Tim arched his back, further accentuating the shape of his rear, a rear now sliding up and down Armie’s cock with unapologetic speed and pace. 

He parted his thighs as widely as he could, allowing him to bend his knees and hook both feet over Armie’s chest.

Armie’s eyes widened as Tim’s soles positioned themselves in view.

Armie ran fingers over their fleshy expanse, causing Tim’s toes to curl as he rode Armie.

Tim stifled laughter and moans, now wanting to move his feet away, but Armie held them into position.

As Tim rode Armie, Armie tickled him, growing more aroused by the second simply by acknowledging Tim’s reactions all whilst Tim remained on Armie, all whilst Armie remained in Tim.

Armie took Tim’s right foot and scratched into his arch, lifting his own waist, forcefully pushing himself deeper into Tim.

Tim bit the knuckles of his left fist, his eyes watering, the toes of his right foot flexing out in a maddened stretch.

Tim could feel Armie expand within him, he could feel the pre-cum further lubricate a length already fully inside.

Tim’s cock throbbed, his hands reaching down to touch himself.

But before they could even curl around his own arousal, Armie’s grasp left Tim’s foot, his hands reaching around Tim’s waist, catching his wrists,

Armie then pulled Tim’s hands behind his back.

Tim had no choice but to let the whimpers leave his mouth - the noises were uncontrollable, he wanted to hold them back but they were sputtering out past swollen lips whether he wanted them to or not.

Armie held Tim’s wrists across each other at the bottom of his waist.

Tim moved down as Armie moved up, Tim moved up as Armie moved down, the connecting space between them never left empty, always filled, always pushing and sliding and rubbing …

Tim could hear Armie grow breathless.

He listened out for cussing and grunts, all of which arrived at once.

He felt Armie fill him with pleasure, a jolt of warmth bursting inside him.

Tim raised his eyebrows as a tear rolled over his cheek.

He peered down at his own erection, gasping in disbelief. 

He felt the ache shoot through his hips, joining at his thighs, bursting at his base, his hands still held behind his back.

For the third time in less than a day, Tim came without touching himself.

His arms naturally pulled, but Armie kept them pinned.

His back arched, his jaw widened.

He drenched Armie’s thighs with his orgasm, a long and heavy groan leaving his mouth, the droplets of baby oil mixing with droplets of sweat now trickling down his spine.

Armie, breathless and shining, let go of Tim’s wrists and then reached back around Tim’s waist where his hands curled around Tim’s cock.

Tim winced as Armie’s palms brushed against his hyper sensitive tip.

Armie rinsed Tim empty as Tim squirmed on top of Armie, his body still mounting a still fiercely strong erection. 

“Fuck! No, fuck!”

Armie laughed into Tim’s lower spine as he shuffled up, keeping a tight hold on Tim’s manhood, but twisting him to the side so that he landed on the mattress with a bounce.

Still inside Tim, Armie moved in closer, pulling Tim into his chest, one hand across his stomach and the other curled around his cock.

Armie rubbed Tim’s helm with his thumb as Tim writhed around in his grasp.

“St … st … st …”

Armie kissed the back of Tim’s head.

He let go of Tim’s cock and then curled his arms around him, spooning him into a calm and quiet state.

The candles burnt out, leaving the room in darkness with only Armie and Tim’s breathless panting filling the void of black.

9.01 pm

After such a physical exchange Armie and Tim fell into another nap, their limbs entwined between bed sheets stained with baby oil.

This time, when Armie woke, it was he who needed to pee.

His shuffling away made Tim open his eyes, yawn and roll around so that when Armie returned they would be face to face.

They had lost track of time.

They had been here, in this bed, all day long.

No sunlight had greeted them thanks to the passing storm.

It had got dark far earlier than expected, despite them waking up later than they thought it would be, all whilst consuming bottle after bottle of wine, almost constantly celebrating their acts without officially labelling it a celebration.

The haze of a hangover had already started to settle in, further adding to the layers of confusion and foggy uncertainty.

Armie slid back into bed.

He moved into Tim, who greeted him with a kiss on the nose.

They hugged each other, Tim’s left leg lifting up to Armie’s thigh, Armie’s right leg straightening down to meet Tim’s right foot.

They pressed their faces into each other, breathing in skin, Chardonnay and the faint scent of pepperoni pizza.

“Tomorrow night, I’m taking you out for dinner,” Armie announced, a slight croak of exhaustion to his voice.

Tim scoffed, closing his eyes, burying his head under Armie’s jaw.

“The world’s in lockdown,” Tim reminded, a hiccup leaving his lips, “Everywhere’s closed…” 

Armie shrugged, kissing the top of Tim’s head.

“I can pull some strings.”

Tim burrowed his hands around Armie’s chest, his fingers brushing past Armie’s chest hair.

“Sounds romantic,” Tim tweaked Armie’s left nipple.

Armie smirked, wincing a little, long muscular arms wrapping around Tim, squeezing him closer.

“Shhh,” he urged, “Go to sleep. And don’t let the romance fool you. I need your energy levels at their strongest …”

Armie tried to deliver his next set of words without them sounding too much like a warning, but Tim took them as that regardless.

“… The next few days will be some of your most testing yet.”

TCTLR continues in Chapter Thirty - ‘The Trial, Part One’