Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s 7.17 am when Timmy wakes up and it’s 17 minutes too late, he realizes as he plugs his phone in, to charge and scrambles to get out of bed. He stumbles over a pile of books that was at some point neatly stacked and narrowly avoids falling flat on his face by tip toeing around another stack that has made its way to the floor. He jumps into the shower with his toothbrush and manages to somehow get dressed and leave the house on time. Sort of. Okay, not really, he’s still twelve minutes late but whatever, he lives on the edge.

He run-walks to the coffee shop at the corner to grab their coffees and manages to not die in traffic and not spill any of the scalding hot coffee on himself. It’s 8.15 am when he reaches the building and he’s cut it close, but he should still have time to organize things and read a little of the manuscript before Armie gets here. He gets into the office after nearly braining himself on the glass door and although the day has barely started he’s so ready for it to be over. Just one more day and then he gets to go home and not think about any of this shit for two whole days . He can do this. It’s already Thursday, he’ll be fine.

Armie’s coffee is on his desk, he’d transferred it to a travel mug because Armie had a meeting on the fourteenth floor and he hates every coffee that isn’t his pretentiously brewed cup of black coffee that costs a bomb. He’s finished with his own coffee in less than five minutes because he can’t stand drinking black coffee, but he never has the time to order anything else so he’s gotten used to it ever since he started working for Armie.

Timmy mentally checks off all the things he’s supposed to do and once he’s satisfied he sits down, and buries his head in his hands. The weekend is approaching and his lack of sleep is finally catching up to him. He stifles a yawn and checks the office group text, apparently it’s Craig’s birthday. He shoots a quick text of his own, before settling down with his half finished manuscript. He likes the book so far, it’s science fiction but it’s good and he knows this has the potential to turn into a series with the right amount of worldbuilding. He wants to finish reading it, but he already knows he’s going to pitch this one to Armie.

Like clockwork, at 8.43 am he gets a text from Henry ( bless him ) that Armie is on his way. Timmy texts the group chat before quickly checking one last time that everything was perfect.

It’s a routine he’s carefully cultivated and maintained over the years. Is it precariously balanced, down to the minute? Yes. Does it make him want to murder Armie? Also yes. But he wants to be junior editor, he knows he’s up for the promotion so a couple more months of this bullshit and he’ll have most (some) of his autonomy back, instead of constantly living at Armie Hammer’s beck and call.

As always, Armie walks into the office like he owns it (he does) and Timmy walks in right behind him. “You have a 9 am meeting with Mr. Spalding, your immigration lawyer left a voicemail, said you haven’t called her back and that it’s important. I have the next manuscript here,” he points to the stack of papers on Armie’s desk. “I made some notes, and uh, you have a 12 pm meeting with Mr. Parker about Frank’s new book.”

He hangs around till Armie gathers what he needs for his 9 am and takes a sip of his coffee. Armie looks at him, puzzled, “Was there more?”

“Oh um, I wanted to ask something.”

“Talk while you walk, I don’t want to be late.”

Timmy rolls his eyes behind his back but follows him nonetheless, iPad in hand, as they walk towards the elevator.

“So, I was thinking, since I finished the manuscript early, I don’t have to come in on Saturday, right?”

“I need you here, I scheduled a meeting.”

Timmy wants to punch him in his perfectly chiseled face. He tries not to sound like a child, “It’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday, I was um-hoping to go home?”

“Were you also hoping to become junior editor?”

He looks at Armie’s raised eyebrows. This is the best publishing house. You need a job. Just a few months more, he thinks to himself as he smiles back tightly. “I’ll see you Saturday,” he says, as the elevator doors close. He’s not looking forward to the call he has to make.

“But it’s Gammy’s 90th birthday!”

“I told him that!”

Pauline sounds about as frustrated as he feels, and Timmy runs a hand through his hair.

“He’s an asshole, I don’t know why you keep working for him.”

“They’re going to promote me in a few months,” he mumbles, but it doesn’t sound convincing even to himself.

“We’re just-we’re worried about you okay? All you do is work all the time and you haven’t been home since last Christmas. Gammy misses you. Mom and dad miss you.”

“Stoooppp,” he whines before resting his forehead on the desk. “Don’t guilt-trip me, that’s not fair.”

“I miss you.”

“Peeeeepss!!”

She huffs out a laugh and Timmy knows if she were here in person, she’d ruffle his hair.

“I love my job.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Shut up. I love my job.”

They don’t talk for too much longer after that and he’s grateful that she’s the one who will break the news to his parents. Still, it doesn’t stop him from feeling like an asshole. He gets back to reading the manuscript to take his mind off things.

He’s been at it for a while, luckily it’s been a quiet morning, allowing him to actually get things done instead of being on the phone all the time. Armie hasn’t called him in after their conversation either and it’s probably for the best because Timmy really doesn’t want to see his face. He thinks about getting a pizza tonight and just binge watching something on Netflix now that he doesn’t have to pack. He can probably just mail the gifts he got for them. He’s fairly sure Pauline’s will have to be wrapped separately, as delicate as it was, and he’s setting a reminder to get it done tomorrow, when his phone buzzes with a text from Armie.

He leans back in his chair, trying to get a good look at Armie, but his face is as impassive as ever, behind his laptop. Timmy can’t help but grin, as he texts Pauline. He has no idea what caused this change of heart but he’ll take it. He needs a break. He gets back to the manuscript and tries to focus on it. Thank god he didn’t cancel his flight this morning. He gets through a few chapters before he hears Armie moving around his office, probably getting ready for his 12 pm. He gets up, as Armie walks out of his office and stops by his desk.

“If I text you, make something up and come get me. I have a busy day today.”

“Um, okay. About, this weekend,” he almost stops after seeing the brief flash of surprise on Armie’s face. He probably hadn’t expected Timmy to bring it up. “About this weekend, thank you.”

“Don’t make it a habit,” Armie says, before walking out.

It’s barely been ten minutes when Timmy receives a text from him, so he walks towards the elevator, armed with an excuse about something “important”. He knocks on the door, waits for a few seconds and then opens it.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Parker. Armie, Frank called about his interview, he said it was urgent…” he trails off, because Armie is grinning at him. He looks around the room, everyone is looking at him for some reason and he can’t comprehend why.

“Timmy, come in!”

He walks in gingerly, still not sure what this was about. He looks at Armie, puzzled, and Armie just walks up to him and slips an arm around his waist . It takes everything in him not to jump out of his skin, what the fuck was going on?

“Like I was saying, we’re, uh- engaged.”

Timmy’s sure he heard it wrong. “I’m sorry, what?! ”

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, what?! ”

“Sorry for springing this on you,” he says, ” Babe, ” adding the endearment as an afterthought and smiles widely, hoping Timmy will just play along.

Timmy seems incapable of responding, his eyebrows raised so high Armie thinks they might just disappear in his hairline. He removes his hand from the small of Timmy’s back and threads their fingers together. He looks at Elliot, who looks floored but doesn’t seem to think Armie is lying so he’ll take it. He’ll be damned if he gets deported, after working his ass off to get his name on the wall.

“What can I say, we just-uh fell for each other. All those late nights…” He tries to look smitten, but it's hard when Timmy still looks like he just entered an alternate universe. Armie nudges him imperceptibly, “Right, babe?”

“Um, yes...absolutely. Truly, something... unexplainable ,” Timmy is looking at him pointedly, slightly flushed but mostly still confused.

“That’s fantastic news! Armie, sort this out immediately.” Elliot walks over to them, smiles at Armie and squeezes his shoulder. “I’m very happy for you,” he says, and Armie feels guilty, lying to his mentor like this.

“For the both of you,” Elliot continues, shaking Timmy’s hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Parker,” he hears Timmy mumble, as he shakes Elliot’s hand.

Armie promises to sort out the paperwork soon and they leave Elliot’s office. He can hear Timmy following him agitatedly and knows there’s going to be a million questions directed his way, which is why he does the totally mature thing and walks into his office, shutting the door behind him. He opens his laptop and logs in, watching Timmy from the corner of his eyes. Timmy waits outside for about two minutes, both of which he spends pacing, before just walking into his office.

“You can’t just shut the door like that ! Not after what you just did! What was that?”

Armie knows he’s going to have to deal with this, so he shuts his laptop. “I mean, it’s uh-it’s for you too.”

Armie didn’t think it was possible for someone to look even more incredulous, but apparently, it was. Timmy folds his arms. “Oh. Okay . Can’t wait to hear this one, this better be good.”

He exhales sharply, wanting to be done with this. It wasn’t even that big a deal. It’s not like it was real or anything.

“I’ll give you a raise. And two weeks of paid leave on top of whatever you already get.”

“In exchange of me pretending to marry you ? In what world, does that sound like an equal to you?”

He rolls his eyes, “I mean I could just fire you.”

“Do it. I’m qualified enough, I could get another job.”

“Yeah, but you’d have to start all over again. And, it won’t be the number one publishing house.”

He knows he’s got Timmy because the guy might not look like it, but after four years of having him as an assistant, he knows Timmy’s competitive streak is probably second only to Armie’s. That’s what made him the best assistant he’d ever had.

“ Fine. ”

He stifles a smile as Timmy walks out of his office. This was going to be easy, and then he could just carry on, not having to worry about the fucking paperwork all the time.

It has to be the shortest, most monosyllabic response he’s ever received from Timmy, but whatever. It wasn’t like there was nothing in it for him. He’ll get over it.

The rest of the day is thankfully uneventful and he’s able to spend some time on the manuscript Timmy left for him. He has to admit, although he’d never say it out loud, Timmy has a good eye for this thing, and Armie knows that someday he’ll make a great editor. He’s slowly starting to panic about his fake fiancé situation though, and he knows he needs to talk to Liz before he spirals and messes up the whole thing.

He makes a quick reservation and heads out for the day. Timmy is still at his desk, reading and for once he doesn’t say anything to Armie. Although if Armie is being honest with himself, he doesn’t blame him.

He gets there first and makes good on his promise to Liz about the wine, while he waits for them. He catches up on emails, reschedules some of the meetings he had the next day, to make space for the immigration office. Hopefully, it’d just go off without a hitch. There’s an email from Timmy outlining his schedule for tomorrow. He knows it’s the last thing Timmy does before leaving, so he must’ve headed out not long after Armie did. From the corner of his eye, he sees Liz and Barb arrive and gets up to hug them hello. Liz gets to him first, kissing him briefly on his cheek, before giving him a warm hug. He turns to Barb, grinning, “Hey! How’s the-”

“Don’t ask me about my thesis,” she says, holding up a hand. Liz gives him an amused smile so he knows it’s nothing serious. He huffs out a laugh, “It’s going to be great.” She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling so he hugs her and pulls out a chair.

They sip on the wine and look at the menu between bouts of conversation. It’s been a while since the three of them have had dinner and sometimes Armie forgets how much he misses them despite the near constant texting and facetiming that Liz insists on.

He’d met Liz first, on the first day of class at college and she’d taken it upon herself to be his best friend. He’d met Barb in a writing class and made the mistake of introducing her to Liz at the risk of being constantly made fun of. Still, he took pride in it, how could he not, he basically introduced her to her future wife.

“No but seriously, how’s it going?” he asks Barb, as they’re making their way through the appetizers.

“I’m done with it? But like, it’s due in a few days so I’m constantly revising all the time, and making Liz read it over and over. She’s sick of me,” she jokes, even as Liz counters her with a “No I’m not!” and a fond smile that somehow makes Armie feel like he’s intruding.

Liz tells them an elaborate story about a delivery gone wrong at the bakery that has them in splits and Armie is feeling better already. They haven’t pushed him to talk and he’s grateful, but they’re halfway through their entrées so he figures now is as good a time as any.

“So, um...I have news.”

Liz looks at him, waiting for him to continue. “Oh?”

“I’m, uh- I’m engaged. To Timmy”

“ What?! ”

“Um, there were issues. With my visa-”

“Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did,” Barb interrupts and he winces at her tone.

“I’d be lying if I did that,” he mumbles.

“Armie! Oh my god!”

“Wait what? I don’t get it!” Liz looks at him for an explanation but before he can say anything, Barb continues.

“He’s fake engaged to Timmy,” she whispers furiously.

“Please tell me this is a joke. That is literally the dumbest thing I’ve heard.”

“Liz, they were going to deport me!”

“Armie! That’s not an excuse! All you had to do was file paperwork.”

“I uh, I may have forgotten to do that.”

“Armie!”

“What! It’s going to be fine!”

“It’s a felony ,” Barb says before both she and Liz make identical faces of displeasure that make him squirm in his seat.

“And Timmy agreed to this?”

“I kind of threatened him with this job?” Oh god, this was sounding worse with every word out of his mouth.

“I’m going to text him and ask him to quit,” Liz says, grabbing her phone.

“Since when do you text Timmy?!”

“He’s your work-wife, how the fuck do you think I keep tabs on you?”

“Liz! Don’t text him, I can’t have evidence of this anywhere.”

“Armie.”

“It’s going to be fine! They’re not looking for book publishers from fucking Canada! ”

“They’re looking for anyone who breaks the law! I can’t believe you thought this was a good idea.”

“It’ll be fine ! Barb, tell her!”

“Yeah, no . This is fucked up.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we talk about something else?”

“No, we can’t, not until you agree to not do this!”

“I don’t want to be deported, Liz. I’ll be out of a job, I can’t come back for at least a year. What am I going to do?”

“There has to be another way,” she says and Barb nods in agreement.

“There isn’t, okay? So just drop it.”

“Fine. But I’m telling you now, I won’t implicate myself or Barb in anything okay?”

“I can live with that.”

If dinner is filled with terse silences interspersed with him or Barb trying and failing, to make conversation, he only has himself to blame.

He doesn’t get much work done after dinner and so he rearranges a few things around and plans to get to the office an hour early so he can get things done. He still hasn’t finished the manuscript and with the immigration appointment coming up he knows he’s pressed for time. It’s only when he enters the building the next day he realizes he’s forgotten to text Timmy so there’s probably no coffee waiting for him and he’ll have to organize things himself which will eat into his hour. He’s pretty sure he has no idea where half the things are, ever since Timmy took over things.

Armie gets to his office and finds, to his surprise, Timmy typing away at his laptop, a stack of folders and his coffee waiting for him on his desk. Armie refuses to be impressed.

Armie sets his phone aside, annoyed. He reminds himself has better things to do rather than passive-aggressively fighting with his fiancé via fucking emojis . Timmy doesn’t come in to go over his schedule, instead, he sends an email. They don’t speak till it’s time to go to the immigration office. Armie is not disappointed. He’s not .

Chapter Text

The more Timmy has had time to think about things, the more he hates the idea. He’ll have to lie to everyone he knows, for a few months, if not a year (more?), no one can find out the truth and in the meantime he’s going to have to be painfully single. He wants to be promoted, but at what cost? He rubs his eyes tiredly, not having slept enough. He’d been up late last night which is why he’d made the mistake of looking at the calendar. Now he’s had to come in an entire hour early and he’s running on barely three hours of sleep. He feels anxious and stressed out and he already knows this is going to be bad for him. He likes things organized, likes to know what he’s getting into, likes to plan things. This was none of that. This was so far removed from anything he ever thought he’d have to do for this job.

He avoids speaking to Armie as much as he can. After working for him for 4 years he’s managed to form some kind of a friendship, a familiarity that was natural given how much he knew about Armie’s life, but he can’t anymore. He needs space, he needs to figure out how to go into this so he can come out unscathed and if he has to scale back on talking to Armie and generally thinking of him as a role model, as a roadmap to being an editor, so be it. If Armie notices anything, he doesn’t mention it.

At 10, Armie texts him to have his driver ready, and they leave for the visa appointment. It’s the first time Timmy has been in his car and the sleek black and beige color scheme coupled with the new car smell has him on edge. He knows for a fact that Armie has had this car for three years, the fact that it’s so sterile, unnerves him. Timmy thinks of his own car that’s been parked outside his apartment for a while. He never quite uses it in New York but he’s had it since he was in college. He thinks about how different it is from Armie’s car. He knows there’s an empty coffee cup in the cup holder, a couple of receipts dumped in one of the little compartments. He knows his glove box is full of junk. He knows his aux cord is hanging from the music player and he knows for sure there’s a phone charger in there somewhere. Armie’s car is clean, Henry offers him bottled water which he gratefully accepts, but otherwise you could put that car back in the showroom and it’d look brand new. Somehow inside the car, Timmy sitting with his shirt sleeves rolled up, no tie, unruly hair and Armie looking perfectly put-together in his suit, he feels the difference between them even more acutely. He’s not sure how they’ll pull this off.

The immigration office is an inconspicuous building in Brooklyn. They enter the building, and Armie immediately ignores the line to go all the way up to the front.

“What are you doing? There’s a line ,” Timmy whispers furiously, grabbing his elbow before he interrupts the officer who is already giving them a pointed look. He gets a blase, it’ll be fine from Armie, who continues walking up to the officer. Timmy hangs back, shaking his head.

He looks at the huge line. He’s never seen so many different people in one space, but there’s a certain weariness to their posture, a certain exhaustion in their hardened eyes even as their hands clutch their documents. The room is noisy, there are too many crying babies and energetic toddlers around for anything to function smoothly, but amidst all the chaos there is a strange sense of persistence, of integrity, that only comes from having gone through things no one should have to, from having your life reduced to a file number. He looks away, ashamed that they’re able to cheat the same system these people have worked all their lives to enter.

Before he can dwell too much, Armie comes up to him. “Come on, they want us inside.”

He feels afraid for the first time since he agreed to this, as he looks at Greg’s face. Greg Wilson, as the shiny name plate says, is a middle aged, bald man with sharp eyes that remind him of his teachers at school. He suddenly feels the urge to just confess to everything and get the fuck out of here. He’s startled when Armie threads their fingers together and focuses on not jumping every time that happens. They were never going to fool anyone if he kept acting like he was electrocuted each time Armie touched him unannounced.

Greg introduces himself and Timmy tries to act natural. “Nice to meet you too, I’m Timothee, but you can just call me Timmy,” he says, trying to keep his voice friendly as Greg stumbles over his french name.

“Timmy! Great, now, let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Absolutely, I’d love to have this over with, as soon as possible. It’s only paperwork after all. Thank you for seeing us, Greg!”

Timmy suppresses an eye roll at Armie’s fake enthusiasm. He’s pretty sure them having a one on one with Greg has everything to do with Armie not filing his papers and nothing to do with Armie receiving special treatment on account of being someone important.

“Of course, Mr. Hammer. I hear you’ve gotten engaged?”

“Ah yes, it was long overdue,” Armie says, rubbing his thumb in slow circles on the back of Timmy’s palm. The casual intimacy throws him off each time and he tries to keep his smile neutral, as he agrees with Armie.

“Oh? Mr. Chalamet, are you sure there’s nothing going on here that you’d like to tell me?”

“Of course not. Armie and I have been waiting for this for a long time, nothing would make me happier.”

“Right. It’s just that, the timing is suspicious, forgive my curiosity. For this to come right after Mr. Hammer has been served with papers from us…”

Timmy laughs, a strained sound that sounds awful even to himself, “I guess, we just-um- forgot. We work such long hours,” he explains, aware that Armie is looking at him, smiling, a fact that still makes him uneasy. He’s not used to this.

“Oh of course! I just wanted to make sure, you knew...what’s at stake here,” Greg says, choosing his words carefully. “These things can often be very, how shall I put it, expensive . One wrong thing and people end up owing about three hundred thousand in fines and can face up to five years in a federal prison. I mean, only if you commit a felony. Which this isn’t. Right?”

Timmy feels the blood rush out of his face. Three hundred thousand. Five years in prison. He swallows nervously, “I understand, I’m afraid this is just a cast of the old guy meets guy and falls in love, nothing quite as serious as a felony, I’m afraid,” he says, smiling tightly.

“Of course. We’ll have to corroborate things of course! I might have to question your families and friends, given the delicate nature of your situation. I’m sure they know of this wonderful development in your relationship?”

Timmy goes still, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead and he can feel his false bravado slipping when Armie jumps in.

“Well I mean, we’ve kept things private. Him working for me has made this situation...how did you say it?” he pauses, thinking. “Delicate. Besides, I have no family,” he finishes, smiling smugly. Timmy wants to break his nose.

“Oh? Well I’m sure Mr. Chalamet has family? What about them?”

Timmy doesn’t know what to say to that either. He had hoped he could get this over with without ever telling his family anything, they lived on the west coast anyway and he rarely visited, thanks to Armie.

“Oh! Actually, we were thinking of telling them this weekend, right babe?” Armie asks, grinning at him. He feels a hot wave of anger course through him. Armie had no right to involve his family like this, and suddenly, Timmy wants nothing but to get up and leave. He clenches his jaw, as he nods stiffly.

“Yeah, its uh- Gammy’s 90th birthday, and we were-um we were hoping to make things extra special!”

Hearing Armie say gammy only makes him more angry. He looks at Greg, who looks about as pleased as Timmy feels, with the recent developments.

They leave once Greg has no more questions. He promises to follow up with them, and it sounds ominous. Timmy can’t believe they pulled this off. He’s bristling with anger, and he slams the car door as he gets in. Armie doesn’t seem to notice anything as usual because he doesn’t comprehend the concept of things sometimes not being about him . It feels like the tension in the car escalates the closer they get to the office but maybe it’s just him because when he looks at Armie, he seems to be reading something on his iPad, not caring in the slightest that he’d just involved Timmy’s entire family in something Timmy had no plans of ever telling them.

“Editor,” Timmy blurts out, trying to keep his anger in check.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Armie’s composure only irritates him further. “I don’t want a raise and two weeks of paid leave, I want to be editor.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, editor, or I back out of this.”

“You need this.”

“Nope. Were you in there with me? Three hundred thousand and five years in prison . There’s no fucking way I do this without being promoted to editor. Not in a few years, now .”

For once Armie seems to be at a loss for words. Timmy feels strangely victorious.

“Fine,” he says, after a heavy pause. “You got it. Editor. I’ll start the paperwork. Are we done now? Or would you like to throw another tantrum?” Armie sneers at him, jaws clenched and Timmy has had it .

“Oh you think I’m fucking done ? You involved my family in this. You didn’t think it was important to ask me before making my family complicit to a felony?”

“They’re not gonna know its fake, Timmy. You heard him! What the fuck was I supposed to say? It’s not like you were any help.”

“ I’m pretending to marry you . You owe me for life , man. And I don’t care what you think, you should have asked me before you went on about Gammy’s birthday! God! Is that so difficult to comprehend?”

“I really don’t understand why you’re being so fucking dramatic!”

“I’m being-I’m being dramatic because you fucking hijacked my trip home! I haven’t seen my family in over half a year, because all I do, is work for you and you took my one trip home and ruined it. This is what you do. You make everything about yourself. I know you don’t have a family, but it’s fucking human decency !”

Timmy regrets the words as soon as they come out, and with all his anger gone, he deflates. Armie doesn’t respond, just turns to look outside the window. He feels guilty and can’t believe he said what he did, but he’s not sure what to do. He’s the one supposed to be mad at Armie, this was literally all Armie’s fault, so why was he even feeling guilty?

He runs a hand through his hair, his anger was always gone as quickly as it came and it left him feeling upset and strangely empty. Armie still won’t look at him, so he resigns himself to spending the rest of the car ride in silence.

He winces when Armie slams the car door and storms ahead of him, he still can’t believe he said that. No matter how angry he was, or how wrong Armie was ( so wrong ), he’s never been the kind of person that would say something so awful and he hates feeling like this. Armie spends the next few hours steadfastly avoiding him and he uses that time to tell Pauline about the new development.

Timmy snickers, amused by Pauline’s enthusiasm and asks her to tell his mom. He can lie to Pauline over text but he knows his mom will call him, if not Facetime him and with the day he’s had, he doesn’t have it in him to lie to her face.

He stretches his legs and takes a bathroom break. Armie hasn’t spoken to him yet. Granted, he’s been on calls and meetings but most days Timmy will sneak in there to organize things or update him on his schedule and although Armie is as unfriendly as they come, Timmy likes to think that after four years they’ve developed somewhat of a cordial working relationship - sometimes even friendship.

The walk back to his office feels weird because people keep looking at him. Word of his engagement has probably spread and he’s grateful no one has asked him directly yet. He spends the next few hours on finishing the manuscript he’s currently reading. Now that he’s going to be an editor soon he can pitch this, and the thought makes him smile. At least he was getting something out of this.

It’s nearing dinner time soon and Armie shows no signs of leaving. He still feels bad for this morning and after sitting with it all day, he’s decided they have to get along to pull this off. He knows Armie will never make the first move, so he’s decided to wave the proverbial white flag. He orders delivery from Armie’s favorite guilty pleasure hole in the wall Chinese place and gets doubles of everything, because why not. Timmy thinks he might leave once the food arrives, there’s nothing left for him to do and he needs to go home and pack. He books their tickets for the flight tomorrow and texts Armie all the details, to which Armie eloquently replies ok .

The food arrives and when Timmy brings it back up, Armie isn’t in his office. He leaves the food on the table with a hastily scribbled note, and clocks out for the day.

Chapter Text

Armie wakes up before his alarm blares, already nervous about the weekend. It was easier to pretend things were okay when they were at work and it was just him and Timmy but now that his family was involved, it was a whole other thing. He starts a pot of coffee and gives his closet a once-over, making sure he’s packed everything.  The weather in Napa Valley was slightly chilly like Timmy had said, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He still isn’t exactly sure where they were going, Timmy had said something about his family owning a winery but there were a lot of those in Napa Valley, and he hadn’t asked which one they were going to.

He finishes the cup and heads to the shower and makes quick work of it. He comes back to find a text from Liz.

He shoots her a quick will do before throwing on a light sweater and jeans. He grabs his tiny suitcase and texts Henry to bring the car out. He’d texted Timmy to ask if he needed a ride but he got a Nah I’m used to the subway and he hadn’t pushed. If he’s being honest, he can’t remember the last time he took the subway anywhere, let alone to the airport.

The ride to the airport is long as usual, but he gets work done and wonders idly if the subway might’ve been a good idea when he gets a text from Timmy telling him he’s there and he’s grabbing breakfast. The manuscript he’s reading is almost finished and it needs some changes, but it’s good. It was Timmy’s recommendation and if he has to give the editor position to someone, he’s glad it’s going to someone with a good eye for this kind of thing.

*

He spots Timmy with his coffee near their gate and nearly does a double take. He’s so used to seeing Timmy in a shirt and slacks, so the jeans and sneakers look throws him off. If possible, it miraculously looks like he put in even less effort into his hair and Armie has the strangest urge to fix it. Timmy has his headphones on and seems to be texting so Armie takes the moment to school his features and not look like an idiot. Timmy seems to spot him as he gets closer and he brings his headphones down to his neck, an easy smile on his face.

“Hey, morning!”

Armie smiles back, although he’s still a little thrown by how friendly Timmy sounds and reminds himself that they’re engaged now, this is normal. This is what they have to do all weekend. It feels like his relatively good mood has dissipated as he thinks more about what they’re about to do. He’s never been that great at making friends for the sake of it, all he knows how to do is small talk and schmoozing at parties. He’s so out of his depth here. But Timmy is still smiling a little, and he’d made an effort to smooth things over with Armie so the least he can do is be friendly. He grabs a seat beside him as they wait for the boarding to start. Timmy doesn’t make any attempts at conversation but the silence isn’t uncomfortable and Armie ends up reading on his Kindle while Timmy texts someone animatedly.

Their boarding starts soon enough and they get on the plane. Armie is surprised to see they’re in first class. He hadn’t looked carefully at anything or pushed when Timmy sent him tickets but he’d thought they would definitely be in economy. Maybe they paid assistants more than he’d assumed. Timmy gets settled in and orders a glass of wine and Armie gets a beer for himself. He’s about to put his earplugs in and nap a little when Timmy pulls out a binder.

“Okay, let’s get started.”

“With what?”

“With this,” he says, pointing at the binder. “This is all the questions we can expect from the immigration officer and I guess we should also come up with backstories to tell my family?”

“They’re...nosy,” he adds fondly when Armie doesn’t respond.

“I hadn’t even thought about that,” he admits, chagrined. Timmy huffs a laugh and hands him a copy.

“The problem is, I know all this about you and you have this weekend to learn all this about me.”

Armie grabs the binder and flips through the pages upon pages of personal questions.

“You know all this about me?”

“Pretty much,” Timmy says, grinning.

“ How? ”

“I’ve been your PA for four years dude, I know a lot.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Armie protests, only half serious.

“Get used to it, I call everyone dude. Would you rather I called you baby?”

He rolls his eyes as Timmy snickers, he’s still surprised at how friendly Timmy is, when it occurs to him that he probably never made an effort to get to know Timmy that way. He reminds Armie of Barb, in a way. He picks easy ones to start with; parents’ names.

“Nicole and Marc,” Timmy replies when asked. “I have an elder sister, Pauline. She’s four years older than I am. And then there’s gammy obviously, and my grandfather passed away a couple years ago.”

He apologizes and Timmy waves it off, asking him to continue. He stumbles over an explanation about his family - rich parents, died in a car crash but left him all the money in a trust fund. He grew up in an orphanage, no, it was pretty normal, yes he hated it. He’s never liked going over it. It always bothered him. Nothing bad had happened to him, hell he’d even had a trust fund, things could’ve been so much worse . Despite that he knows he didn’t come out unscathed, it does something to you when there are science fairs and PTAs and graduations and you have no one on your side.

“I’m sorry Armie, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, it’s been a long time,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting up at how sincere Timmy sounded.

“Okay let’s do a fun one,” Timmy exclaims, effectively changing the subject.

“Let’s do music. I like-”

“The classics, mostly rock, unless you’re working out. In that case, you listen to the Beast Mode playlist.”

Armie looks at him, surprised and a little terrified. “Okay, how the fuck do you know that? I know for sure we haven’t talked about music.”

Timmy smirks, shrugging. The little shit.

“I’m serious! How?”

“I’ve just been stalking you,” he jokes, and Armie rolls his eyes.

He can’t remember the last time he had fun talking to someone that wasn’t Liz or Barb.

“Okay, fine . I follow you on Spotify,” he admits. “That’s not half as exciting, is it?”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Armie grins at him.

“That’s cause you’re a grandpa.”

“Watch it, I’m still your boss.”

Timmy snickers and Armie mourns the loss of any upper hand he might have had.

*

“What is your fiancé’s ex’s name?”

“Lola was my last serious girlfriend. I dated Nate for a couple weeks last year, nothing serious.”

“I uh, dated Jessica for a few months two years ago, but I haven’t really dated anyone seriously in a while,” he says, trying to get over his awkwardness about sharing these things with someone who had been just his PA until a few days ago.

*

“What was the last gift your fiancé got you?” he asks, looking at Timmy. “What’d you get me, babe ?”

“My presence is a gift,” Timmy drawls.

“Well, you’re cheap as fuck,” he retorts, grinning.

“Maybe pay your PAs better, asshole.”

“Well I got you a signed first edition copy of Perks of Being a Wallflower, so clearly I’m doing better at the whole fiancé thing,” he jokes.

Timmy looks at him, surprised. “How’d you know that was my favorite?”

“You mentioned it once,” he said, heat flooding to his face. He can’t believe he remembers that. It’s not weird at all. Right? Right.

*

“How many hours have you spent together in person?” Armie doesn’t even get the question out before Timmy starts laughing

“Way too many,” he snickers.

“Shut up, it’s not that bad!”

“Please. I barely have a personal life,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it, some might even say he sounds fond and Armie tries not to find it hopelessly endearing.

He fails.

*

“Do you know any of your fiancé’s friends?”

“ Duh . I know Liz...Barb I know by association, I guess. And I know those are the only friends you have so.”

Arme looks at him affronted but Timmy is smiling and he realizes he’s being teased .

“Well, I don’t know any of your friends!”

“I don’t have a lot of friends in New York, because I have this boss who makes me work insanely long hours,” he says, startling a laugh out of Armie.

“Jokes aside, I have Sara in New York, she’s a few years younger but we pretty much grew up together. She goes to NYU, so it’s nice having someone from home.”

“Will she be there this weekend?”

“I think so. She’s doing an internship this whole semester and I think she was able to get a long weekend.”

He nods, and Timmy continues, “Besides that, there’s a whole bunch of people, you’ll probably meet everyone at the party.”

“Can’t wait.” He’s surprised to find he’s not lying.

*

“Who proposed, and how?”

“I did, obviously . There were lots of roses. And candles. Rose petals all the way from the door to the living room where I proposed while your favorite song was playing,” he’s mostly joking, this was the most ridiculous idea he could come up with.

Timmy snorts, trying to muffle his laughter behind his hand. “You’re telling me you proposed to Bodak Yellow by Cardi B?”

“What’s a cardi b?”

Timmy loses it. They get looks from the couple beside them, but Armie can’t bring himself to care.

“What’d I tell you? Grandpa ,” he says, once he’s stopped laughing.

*

“Does your fiancé have any tattoos? And where?”

“What, you don’t know this one?” Armie jokes, when Timmy doesn’t answer.

“It’s not visible, so I guess I gotta get you naked for that one,” he smirks.

Armie doesn’t choke on his water. He doesn’t .

“I don’t, actually. You?”

“Nope.”

*

“Do you and your fiancé plan to have any children?”

Armie doesn’t know what to say to that right this moment. He can’t remember the last time he shared so much with someone new and while he’s comfortable, it’s starting to feel like a lot, he can feel himself shutting down. He looks at Timmy and thinks something must’ve given him away when Timmy smiles kindly and closes the binder.

“That’s probably at least, a third date question, right?”

Armie smiles gratefully, “Right.”

*

They eat the food in relative silence, Timmy puts his headphones on and Armie gets the feeling it’s more for his benefit than Timmy let on. He pulls out his airpods and travel pillow once their trays are cleared. It was probably wise to catch some shuteye before they landed. The time difference was going to make them slightly tired anyway. He doesn’t know when he drifts off.

He wakes up when something brushes the side of his face, tickling him. Armie looks to his side to find Timmy leaning against his shoulder at a painful angle, his hair brushing Armie’s face. He doesn’t know what to do. Was it appropriate to move Timmy’s hair? Should he just shift around a little, wake Timmy up? His body stills in its nervousness and he sneaks a glance at Timmy’s face, still not sure what to do. He can feel the heat flooding to his face, this seemed oddly intimate. Armie settles on taking a deep breath and shifts slightly. Still asleep, Timmy readjusts himself. If it takes a while before he can fall asleep again, no one has to know.

*

They take turns using the bathroom and freshen up to get ready for landing. Timmy doesn’t seem to remember anything, and he doesn’t bring it up either.

“My sister is going to pick us up, so you’ll meet her first,” he tells Armie as they get off the plane. “Sorry if she asks a lot of questions, we’re really close and I sort of just sprung this on her, so.”

He looks at Timmy who looks apologetic and Armie feels a hot wave of shame course through him. He did that. He messed things up between them. He doesn’t get to dwell on it too much because Timmy is shaking his head. “Hey, no. Look, I agreed to this. If we keep doing this, there’s no way we can fake it well enough, okay?”

“Okay.”

*

Armie follows Timmy out of the airport, a few steps behind him. He knows Timmy has spotted Pauline from the way he’s waving madly. He finds her grinning and waving back, and as they get closer Armie sees it. They look so alike, she has Timmy’s eyes, or he has hers, he thinks. They have the same sharp nose, and when she smiles at him bright and sunny, he can’t help but smile back.

Timmy all but flings his suitcase and Armie has to stop himself from laughing. He grabs Pauline into what can only be described as a bear hug, exclaiming “ Peeps!!” It takes him a second to realize Peeps is Pauline. He walks up to her and offers his hand, “Hey, I’m Armie, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” She takes the proffered hand and introduces herself, “I’m so glad you could make it!”

They walk towards the car and leave their suitcases in the trunk. Timmy gets in the seat next to Pauline leaving Armie to sit in the back. He’s happy to let them catch up, he’s not sure he’s ready for all the questions he will undoubtedly get at some point. He checks his phone for messages and replies to a few emails. He finds that Napa Valley is at least an hour and a half from the airport and settles in for a long drive. The weather is pleasant, the sun is shining down on them and he takes a deep breath, relaxing a little after the long flight.

He’s listening to Pauline and Timmy talk but doesn’t contribute, not knowing what to say. Timmy seems to be asking about his friends, he remembers a few names from their conversation earlier.

“So, Armie, are you from New York?”

Timmy gives him an apologetic look as soon as Pauline asks him the question, and he smiles back. This was fine, he could do this. He’s literally brought it upon himself.

“I’m from Canada, actually. Vancouver?”

“Oh, that’s so cool! I love Vancouver. How long have you been in New York?”

“Oh um, a long time now, I came to Columbia for college and never left,” he says, smiling.

“What about you? Have you always been here?” He figures he should at least make an effort, a conversation was a two-way street and besides, he doesn’t want Timmy’s family to hate him.

“Pretty much. I was in France for a couple years, while I got my degree in business. I came back with a few friends and we pretty much run the winery here, we took over kinda, from my dad. I don’t think I could live in a city now,” she laughs. He can see where she’s coming from, Napa Valley is stunning.

They start getting closer and he’s startled when he sees a shop with the name Chalamet on it. That was weird, maybe Timmy’s family owned it?

“I bet,” he continues. “You’re kind of living the dream here!”

“Right? That’s what I told Timmy, and yet , he moved to New York!”

“You know business isn’t my thing!” Timmy protests, making Pauline laugh.

“You could just live off your trust fund,” she teases.

Trust fund? Armie thinks he’s missing out on something big here. Or it’s an inside joke he’s not a part of. Timmy looks at him guiltily but doesn’t clarify. Armie doesn’t question it.

Pauline asks him about his time in college, his early days at Parker and Hammer and he’s happy to oblige. He loves his work, he’d worked hard to get his name on the wall and if there’s anything he’s comfortable in talking about, it’s this. It’s good conversation, he really likes Pauline and at some point, Timmy puts music on.

They seem to be getting closer and Armie looks out the window, puzzled. Pretty much every other shop has Chalamet on it and he’s starting to feel like he’s missed out on something huge, so he just goes for it. “Why does every shop have your name on it?”

That seems to startle a laugh out of Pauline. “Wait, you haven’t told him? Timmy!”

“Told me what?”

Timmy looks at him, guilty and uncomfortable. “Um, when I said we owned a winery,” he pauses to glare at Pauline when she snickers. “So, we own the Chalamet Estate? And I’m...uh, pretty rich?”

Things click and Armie is ashamed he never put it together. “Wait you’re that Chalamet?”

“Um, yes?”

Armie is pretty sure he’s gaping. The Chalamets are one of the richest families in America, their wine estates are some of the best. He knows for a fact that they have vineyards in France and Italy apart from a couple in America. When Timmy had said his family owned a winery, he hadn’t pictured this.

“So you’re telling me you’re a millionaire? What the fuck?”

“Um, yeah? I mean I have shares and stuff, but like...I’m the only one who wasn’t into running the winery so I don’t really contribute...”

Armie has the sudden urge to laugh as he recalls the whispers of office gossip saying Timmy married him for the money. It’s probably the other way around. Armie had money, serious money even, but it was nothing against this.

“I think you broke him,” Pauline comments, as they pull up near a grocery store, which also has Chalamet on it , jesus. “I need to grab a few things, you guys can wait if you want, I shouldn’t be too long!”

Armie gets out of the car, stretches his legs and takes a deep breath. This was a lot to take in and it sure as hell explained the first class tickets. Timmy follows him out of the car and leans against the door, next to him.

“Sorry for springing this on you...I don’t really talk about it, I guess.”

“I just don’t get it, why are you working as my PA?”

Timmy looks affronted. “I like editing Armie, this is the career path everyone follows. I’m not comfortable using my name as a way to get ahead of the line, that’s not how I was raised.”

He raises his hands in peace. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me, you’re right. Its just...most people don’t think the way you do.” I wouldn’t have.

Timmy accepts the apology with a smile and a shrug, bumping his shoulders against Armie’s. “I guess so. We good?”

“We’re good,” he says, smiling.

He’s startled when Timmy threads their fingers together and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Sorry, my sister was looking. I’m pretty sure she only left us alone to give us privacy.”

Armie laughs at the flustered look on Timmy’s face. “Is she looking?”

He watches Timmy try and sneak a glance, “I think so. Oh god, do you think she knows ?”

“I don’t think so, but let’s make sure,” he says, before cupping Timmy’s face and leaning into a kiss. Timmy is frozen for a second before he seems to melt into it, kissing him back softly but with intent. Armie has a stray thought about how fucking competitive they are but he doesn’t complete it, because Timmy buries his fingers in Armie’s hair and oh . He’d almost forgotten how much he liked that. He pulls back, flushed and slightly dazed. Timmy looks equally affected so he can’t bring himself to care too much. Still, he can’t believe that happened. He’s about to say something when Pauline walks up to them, smirking.

“I guess you guys made up,” she says, as the three of them get into the car.

“Peeps!”

“What! It’s true!”

Armie fights back a smile as they bicker over something he’s clearly lost track of. He leans back and tries to pretend like the kiss didn’t leave him feeling off center. This was going to be a long weekend.

Chapter Text

The car is silent as they near the last leg of the drive. Timmy is content to lean back and look out the window, his childhood passing him by, while Armie dozes at the back. He rolls down the window a little to air out the car and listens to Pauline sing along under her breath. It’s still afternoon in the west coast so the sun is shining down on him and he closes his eyes against it, his thoughts syrupy slow, the way only lying under the sun can make them. He’s listening to the song but not quite, it’s something French, but that’s all he’s paid attention to. He thinks about how Armie kissed him, and he knows it’s not real, nothing they’re doing is real and yet. And yet , he’d definitely felt something. That little jolt of electricity when you liked someone, the nervousness that came with it. But this was Armie. And what they were doing wasn’t real, it would never be real. Maybe he would gain a friendship out of it, right now that seemed like the best case scenario, they’d clearly been having fun on the plane.

“Timmy?”

He turns slowly to look at Pauline, raising his eyebrows.

“You okay?”

He fights a smile at how perceptive she is, he’d almost forgotten after not meeting her in person for so long.

“I’m okay,” he answers. “A little worried about what mom and dad think about all this if I’m being honest.”

Pauline smiles at him, not unkindly, before ruffling his hair. “It’s going to be okay, they were surprised and they’ll have questions, but they love you.”

“I just-I’ve never kept anything from you guys,” he confesses, surprised to find out he isn’t lying. He’s really never kept anything from them. As parents, they’ve always had his back and he can’t remember the last time he kept something this big from anyone in his life. Timmy feels the guilt settle into his stomach, and he glances at the back only to find Armie looking at him, eyes dulled with regret.

Timmy reaches towards him, hand stretched until Armie quits looking puzzled and takes it. He threads his fingers with Armie’s and waits for a beat before sneakily trailing the pad of his thumb across Armie’s palm, making him twitch in surprise before he huffs out a laugh.

“That tickles,” he hears Armie say, snatching his hand away. Timmy turns and grins, earning him an eyeroll.

“Oh my god, you guys are so cute, no one’s going to be mad,” Pauling coos, and heat floods Timmy’s face.

*

They drive for a couple more minutes before Timmy starts seeing their estate pass him by. He tells Armie as much, and they spend the rest of the ride looking out the window with Pauline occasionally chiming in with tidbits about the property.

The gates open and Pauline drives the car inside and parks it at the entry. Timmy is the first to get out and he all but runs inside. He hears Pauline tell Armie that someone will grab their stuff as they trail in behind him. He finds his parents waiting in the living room, flipping through magazines absentmindedly and feels a strong wave of nostalgia hit him. The last time he’d been here it was Christmas and now that he was here again, he realized just how long it’d been. His parents look up and right at him, their faces identical in their joy and he suddenly feels lighter than he has in months. As if his body knew this was home. His mom is the first one to hug him and he bends down to tuck his face in. She laughs wetly, and of course, she’s about to cry . He pulls back smiling, “Hi mom.” She smiles back at him, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, before asking Pauline how their drive was. He gives his dad a quick hug and can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the Hey kiddo , he gets in return.

He looks at Armie, who looks like he wants to take the next flight back to New York. Timmy walks towards him and introduces him to his parents. “Mom, dad, this is Armie, my um- my fiancé. And Armie, that’s um- my mom Nicole and my dad Marc.”

Timmy almost laughs out loud at the switch in Armie’s expression when he smiles charmingly. This is an Armie he knows. It’s the Armie that gets the best deals, the Armie that got his name on the wall. His mom ignores the hand and goes for a hug and he bites back a smile at how Armie’s eyes widen. His dad thankfully settles for a handshake and some small talk. He sees Armie’s shoulders lose some of their tension and figures he’s alright with his dad. He’d thought he would be, his dad has a way of making people feel comfortable. Timmy follows his mom into the kitchen while Pauline asks someone to grab their stuff.

He grabs a few bottles of water and joins his dad, Armie and Pauline settle at the table.

“Thanks,” Armie says when he passes him the water.

“Where’s gammy?”

“She’s napping, sweetie,” his mom says, joining them at the table. “Why don’t you guys go freshen up a little, and then we can have a light lunch? Does that sound good?”

He looks at Armie who seems to be okay with it. “Sounds good. Are we up on the second floor?”

“Yeah, your old room. Your bags are in there already,” she says, smiling at both of them.

They walk up the stairs in silence and he sneaks glances at Armie to figure out what he thinks of all this, but his face is impassive.

Timmy enters the room and is surprised by how it’s both the same and vastly different at the same time. The furniture has been updated, but the new bed and dresser still remind him of the old ones. The paint is different, his bedroom now has a navy blue accent wall but it’s his favorite color so he can’t complain. Some of his posters have been framed and arranged into an artistically arbitrary arrangement. It’s new, but it still looks homey and lived in, and he thinks it’s probably Esther’s doing. She’s been responsible for most of their interior designing, having a flair for that sort of thing.

He sits on the corner of his bed. “You can use the bathroom first.”

“You sure? I don’t mind,” Armie says.

“Yeah, no, it’s okay. Go ahead. The towels should be in there, let me know if you need anything else.”

“‘Kay, thanks.” Armie grabs a change of clothes and heads inside.

He flings himself back into the mattress and then sits up just as fast as he realizes his futon is missing. While updating the room, they’d clearly gotten rid of it. Instead, there was a sleek bedroom bench right at the foot of his bed. Timmy groaned in frustration. They were going to have to share the bed. He gets out of bed, rubbing his eyes and grabs his things when he hears Armie open the bathroom door. They can deal with the bed situation later, he’s going to avoid it for as long as he can. He slips into the bathroom wordlessly, missing the puzzled look he gets from Armie.

*

Lunch is light, thankfully and he’s pleasantly full by the time he’s done. He looks at Armie who’s been fighting yawns for a while now. The conversation had been sparse, but not uncomfortable. He knew his parents could tell that they were tired and was grateful they’d stayed off the questions for now. His dad and Pauline have been talking something about the business for the past couple of minutes and Timmy thinks they’re probably good to go.

He gets up and grabs their plates. “I think we might nap for a little bit, do we have plans tonight?”

“Of course, you guys must be jet lagged still,” his dad says, smiling kindly. “We didn’t really have any plans, figured we’d just do dinner and a movie night like old times?”

Timmy grins at him, “That sounds great, dad,” and before Pauline can say anything, “Dibs on picking the movie!”

“Oh come on !”

Timmy laughs at her protest. It’s good to know some things haven’t changed. “I’m home after months . Literally. I get dibs!”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, asshole. We’ll watch what you pick,” she says, but it lacks any heat and Timmy huffs a laugh.

“Language, Pauline,” his mother says out of habit and he snickers at Pauline’s affronted face.

He knows there will be questions, a lot of them, but for now, his family seems intent on keeping things normal and he’ll take what he can get.

They head upstairs after helping clear the table. Timmy comes to an abrupt stop in front of the bed and looks at Armie.

“What?”

“Um, there’s just one bed,” he says, awkwardly.

Armie rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “I can see that. Any other amazing observations?”

He feels his face flush. “Um, there used to be a futon and I’d thought I’d take that, but now we have to um- share the bed.”

“It’s a king sized bed, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Armie says, nonchalantly, as he gets into the bed. “What? You’re going to stand there?”

He shakes his head and gets into bed, sticking to his side. Armie was right, there was plenty of space between them, they’d be fine if he didn’t move around too much. He turns to his side and finds Armie looking at him.

“What is it?”

“I’m s-”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I refuse to hear you apologize one more time. I’m in this now. It’s fine . We’re fine .”

Armie mumbles an okay , his face smushed in the pillow. He tries not to find it too adorable.

Timmy stifles a yawn. “We should talk about PDA.”

He can tell Armie is ready to fall asleep by the way he’s struggling to pay attention. “Huh?”

“Casual intimacy? Kissing? Touching?”

“Oh, that .”

“Yes, that ,” Timmy parrots back.

“I think we’re good on the kissing,” Armie murmurs.

Timmy laughs through a yawn but doesn’t disagree. “And the rest of it?”

“I’m fine with it.”

“You have to tell me if I accidentally do something that makes you uncomfortable,” he says.

“Yeah. You too,” Armie adds.

“Okay, I’ve set an alarm.”

He thinks he hears Armie mumble a response but he’s out before he knows what it is, the day finally catching up.

Chapter Text

He wakes up at some point and finds that the bed is empty, which means Timmy is already up. Armie stretches and yawns before grabbing his phone from the nightstand. The nap had definitely been a good idea and it was still daylight outside so he figured they hadn’t slept too long. He gulps down the glass of water that someone had left by the bed and uses the restroom. Timmy is nowhere to be seen so he figures he’s probably downstairs. He opens the door and is about to step out when he hears them talking. He pauses when he hears his name, the door slightly open, and doesn’t step out. From a distance, he can tell it’s Timmy with his family.

“I’m not upset sweetheart, I just don’t know why you didn’t tell us anything. We don’t see you for months and you come back engaged !” he hears Nicole say, and true to her words she doesn’t sound upset, just a little disappointed although he’s not sure if that’s any better.

“It was just...I don’t know, okay? Things were complicated, I work for him, under him and that sort of thing is generally frowned upon and we just wanted to keep things to ourselves for a while, I’m sorry , really.”

“You don’t think this is a little fast? You used to complain all the time about how he’s such an asshole.”

Armie feels his face heat up. Pauline seemed hesitant in asking the question as if she might upset her brother. He doesn’t move from his spot, no one has seen him yet anyway.

“Peeps, it’s...it’s different now, okay? We’ve spent a lot of time together, I know he’s not like that. You have to trust me on this, come on. You’ve spoken to him!”

“You know that’s not the same thing Timmy. We’re just worried, okay? This is the same guy that made you miss Christmas two years ago, forgive me if I take a minute to warm up to him, yeah?”

“He didn’t make me do anything. I just ended up working late that day and missed my flight,” Timmy says, in an attempt to explain. From where he’s standing, Pauline doesn’t look too convinced.

Suddenly, he’s lost the urge to listen any more of Timmy convincing his family. Armie closes the door softly and heads back to bed. He remembers Christmas from two years ago, he’d asked Timmy to work late the day before Christmas Eve, but he hadn’t known there was a flight to catch. You didn’t bother to ask , he thinks. No wonder Timmy’s family didn’t believe him after hearing things like that over the years. Armie swallows dryly, fiddling with his phone, not really paying attention to anything in particular, his stomach in knots. His mind is racing and he can’t help but think about every interaction he’s had with Timmy and recalling it makes him increasingly uncomfortable. Of course , they didn’t believe Timmy, Armie had been nothing but a total asshole. He’d asked him to skip birthdays and dinners, work late, given impossible deadlines that Timmy had somehow delivered on.

He exhales purposefully before walking over to the small balcony with a view of the sprawling gardens. He remembers his days at the company before he got his name on the wall, remembers being late to pretty much all of Liz’s birthdays, missing Thanksgiving dinners, eating takeout on Christmas, trying to deliver on the deadlines, to get ahead of everyone else, to be the first, the best. He remembers hiring his first assistant and having them quit on him in under two months.

He remembers hiring Timmy and resolving to be better, to be kinder. But somewhere down the line in between the thousands of pages he’d read he’d made the mistake of treating Timmy the way he’d been treated, asking him to do impossible things and the only reason he hadn’t changed anything was that somehow Timmy delivered. He delivered on every deadline that Armie thought was too close, on every manuscript that Armie thought he couldn’t possibly read in that time.

He’s calling Liz before he knows it, smiling when she requests for FaceTime.

“Hey!”

He grins when Barb pops in to say hi, before moving out of frame. “Is this a bad time?”

“No you’re fine, we’re just lounging by the pool, getting drunk.”

Armie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head fondly. “Of course you are.”

“Hey, when in Cabo…” Liz trails off, grinning. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“I’m having a crisis,” he jokes.

“When are you not.”

“I hate you. Are you sure this is a good time? Sorry, I’m bothering you on vacation.”

“Listen loser, we all know we’re your only friends, spit it out,” he hears Barb say from wherever she’s sitting, but it’s impossibly fond so he can’t bring himself to care. He gives her the finger, making Liz laugh before she raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

He explains to her what he overheard. “I just...I think I’ve been really awful, Liz.”

She smiles kindly and takes a moment before answering. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Armie. And neither does Timmy for that matter. You’ve…you’ve worked very hard to get where you are and I think sometimes you forget that not everyone is made the way you are. Some people actually like having a life,” she teases.

“Jokes aside, you’re great, okay? Sometimes you just need to remember that not everyone is like you, yeah? We’re not all Armie Hammer, we can’t all do insane 80 hour weeks to prove something to the world.”

He rolls his eyes but knows she’s right. “I’m not- I don’t-”

She cuts him off, “What you did worked for you. You don’t have to apologize for that. Ever. Not to me and not to anyone else. But you have to remember that not everyone has the same priorities as you do, you know? You’re a good person, maybe you just need to be more receptive? Listen to his ideas, be better at communicating? I know Elliot trained you differently, but he’s from a different era of workplace culture, things are so different now, you can be the kind of boss you want to be , it doesn’t have to be any one way.”

Armie nods, feeling slightly better about things. They talk for a couple more minutes before hanging up and he takes in a deep breath, resolving to be better at things. He heads to the bathroom and freshens up, Timmy was probably coming to get him soon. He wipes his face and throws the used napkin in the laundry basket when Timmy comes in.

“Oh, you’re… you’re up.”

“Yeah, I woke up a few minutes ago,” he lies.

Timmy looks visibly relieved and Armie resolves not to bring up what he’d overheard. He waits on the bed while Timmy uses the restroom. He was going to treat this like any other business deal and be professional and play his part. When this was over he’d make sure he was nicer to Timmy but that’s about it. For some reason, he’d been hoping for a friendship but knowing that Timmy probably hated him and was just being nice, (probably because Armie had threatened his job ) he just wanted to get this over with.

He waits for Timmy to finish before they head down to the TV room. Armie had balked a little when Timmy had first told him about it. He’d almost forgotten that places outside of New York had bigger houses, though Timmy’s house was massive even by those standards. The house is mostly silent except for a couple people in the kitchen and the smell of food makes him realize how hungry he is.

Calling it the “TV room” is an understatement. The room is huge, with comfortable seating all around and a huge screen on the wall. Timmy walks in first and goes straight for the remote, and arguing about what movie they should see, with Pauline. Armie looks around the room, not knowing where to sit when Nicole comes up to him.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.”

“Oh good, please let me know if you want more pillows or anything, really,” she says, smiling kindly.

“I will, thank you.”

“Make yourself comfortable, honey, there’s plenty of seating. Feel free to lie down if you want.”

“Oh, okay, yeah.”

“They’ll bring out the dinner soon, it’s just pizza, and wine if you want some. Is that okay?”

Honestly, that sounded great. He tells her as much, and she seems pleased. He walks over and settles down on one corner of a huge sectional that takes up most of the space. He fluffs the pillows and makes himself comfortable, stretching his legs in front of him. He’s replying to emails when Timmy flops down next to him with an oof , curling up next to him, their sides pressed.

“What are we watching?”

“Mrs. Doubtfire,” Timmy says, grinning. “It’s a classic!” Timmy protests, when he raises his eyebrows.

Armie laughs at how affronted he looks. “I’m kidding, I love it.”

“Good, I’d break up with you if you didn’t,” Timmy says, winking.

Armie rolls his eyes in response and lets Timmy wriggle his way closer to lay his head on Armie’s shoulder. Somehow it felt more intimate than he’d been with anyone in a while, and Armie is acutely aware of how tense he is. Timmy doesn’t seem to notice, he continues texting on his phone, leaving Armie alone with his thoughts. Pauline takes up the other end of the sectional, while Nicole and Marc sit on one of the smaller sofas.

Thirty minutes into the movie he’s figured out that both Timmy and Pauline seem to know every line from the movie and they insist on quoting it, clearly it’s something they’ve all seen many, many times. Armie remembers seeing this movie a couple of times, mostly as background noise on TV while he worked but as he looks at how loud Timmy and Pauline are being and how Nicole and Marc shush them goodnaturedly every few minutes, he realizes this is what being part of a family tradition feels like. He swallows around the lump in his throat, feeling stupid for letting it get to him. He must’ve given something away because the next thing he knows, Timmy is turning around his face lined with worry.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look-”

“I said I’m fine,” he whispers, and it comes out a little harsher than he’d meant it to. Timmy turns around and doesn’t push. He moves away and switches sides to sit on Pauline’s side of the sectional, laughing when Pauline swats his arm for taking up too much space.

It’s not real, he thinks and pretends like he doesn’t miss the warmth of Timmy tucked into his side.

Chapter Text

Timmy finishes the rest of the movie next to Pauline, clearly something wasn’t okay with Armie and he doesn’t want to push. Armie’s shoulders lose some of the tension as the movie passes and Timmy tries not to dwell on figuring out what exactly had he said to evoke that reaction.

This was a good idea , he thinks as he looks around. They’re at the part where Robin Williams goes back and forth between the tables at the restaurant and Timmy watches Armie’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. He looks like he’s enjoying himself, like he belongs here and for a quick moment Timmy has no idea what’s happening in the movie.

Until, of course, Pauline swats his head and whispers , “Watch the fucking movie, loser.”

He wants to wipe that smirk off her face. “Shut up,” he replies, but burrows closer and sighs happily when her fingers trail through his hair absentmindedly, their laughter ringing in the room.

At some point they bring the pizza in and it’s perfect, just how he likes it. He pours out wine for all of them and they settle down as they eat. It’s like every other movie night he remembers having in this room. Movie nights always meant popcorn and coke, or pizza or ice cream, eating till they were practically in a food coma. He recalls the countless sleepovers he’s had in this room, all the nights where they piled onto the couches or that time they moved all the couches and made a blanket fort and stayed up all night watching movies.

He remembers the downright vicious games of monopoly he’s grown up playing with Sara, Sersh, Ansel, Kristina and Giullian in this room. College had taken them in different directions but they still had the group chat and he was seeing Sara and Ansel at the party so that almost made up for it. Their phone calls were few and far between and maybe they only saw each other twice a year but these were his people , the ones he grew up with, the ones who knew way too many embarrassing details of his life. Half his attention still on the movie, he shoots a text to all of them.

He explains the rest of it hastily, not giving out too many details. He’s sure at some point they will corner him and ask everything but for now, he lets it be. Besides, he hadn’t discussed with Armie in too much detail about how much and what they were telling people and he was only seeing Sara and Ansel at the party. Knowing them, Kristina and Sersh were probably the ones who’d kickstart the interrogation.

*

The movie gets over and they’re trudging back upstairs, tired, and ready to sleep. Armie still hasn’t spoken a word and he’s trying not to read too much into it. They step into his room and he turns to ask whether Armie wants to use the restroom first, but the impassive expression on Armie’s face sends a hot flash of irritation through his body. He’s been nothing but perfectly nice, friendly, even and he doesn’t deserve this. He all but storms off to the bathroom and misses how Armie flinches when he slams the door.

The splash of water on his face is enough to give him some pause and calm down. He doesn’t know why he’d expected anything different, this is the exact behavior he’s been used to from Armie, for years. It feels different being at the receiving end of such aloofness in the confines of his room, though. It stings. Feels more personal, somehow. He takes a deep breath and releases it in a whoosh , wipes his face and opens the door. It’s only a few days, he can do this. And then at least a year after that , his brain supplies unhelpfully.

He gets under the comforter, shifting till he’s bundled up, flipping through his phone idly while Armie uses the bathroom. He hears the bathroom door open and Armie walks towards the bed when he gets a text from Liz. How are you holding up? He replies with a noncommittal I’m fine and closes the app, feeling strangely embarrassed. She knew. Armie had told her and probably Barb by extension about their arrangement. Timmy wondered briefly and spitefully, if they’d laughed at his stupidity or if they thought he was desperate, or both.

The bed sinks down when Armie lies on it and Timmy can’t help but ask, “Did you tell Liz about us?”

Armie looks slightly taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected Timmy to make any conversation, but nods eventually. “Yeah, why?”

“Just asking,” he says, before turning to the other side.

He fluffs his pillow uselessly and plays with the end of the comforter in a nervous gesture. For the first time in a long while he feels empty and alone in a way he hasn’t since he first moved across the country from his family. He realizes what he’s gotten himself into, realizes that he’s on his own, no one else knows. It takes him a long time to fall asleep and even then, his body never lets go of the tension.

*

He wakes up when the sunlight hits his face, making it too bright to sleep. Armie’s side of the bed is empty and cold so he’s probably been up for a while. Despite his bad mood, he feels a lot better than yesterday and definitely less jet lagged. Timmy hears the shower start and scrolls through his phone while he waits for Armie to come out. When he hears the shower stop he makes himself leave the bed and rummage through the closet for clothes. He settles on a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans and sets them aside. The bathroom door opens and Timmy grabs his clothes and turns around only to see Armie in a towel, his eyes wide, his chest pink from the hot shower, and damn it, Timmy looks . He averts his eyes as fast as he’d flit them towards Armie, embarrassed.

“Um, I forgot my clothes,” Armie says, dumbfoundedly and Timmy can’t help but huff out a short laugh.

“Yeah, I gathered, from all that, ” he says, flicking his hand in the general direction of Armie’s everything.

He doesn’t stop to see if Armie responds, choosing instead to grab his clothes and close the bathroom door behind him.

*

He comes out to find Armie dressed similarly in a white crew neck and dark washed jeans, lips curled up at something on his phone. Timmy thinks maybe today will be better. He’s wrong because as soon as Armie looks at him, his face shuts off. He looks away, feeling ridiculous for even trying.

They’ve just stepped out of the room when he makes up his mind. He taps Armie on the shoulder and almost loses his nerve when he turns to look at Timmy.

“Is it always going to be like this?” he blurts out, wincing slightly at how awkward he sounds.

Armie looks surprised. “Like what?”

“Like this ,” he says, and gestures at the space between them. “Did I say something yesterday? I didn’t-”

“We’re fine. It’s fine,” Armie says, his hands in his pockets, the picture of indifference as if Timmy was overthinking.

“Yeah of course we are,” he mumbles, before walking past him and down the stairs, the pit in his stomach feeling bottomless. Better get used to it, this is what you signed up for .

*

He walks into the dining area, the smell of breakfast wafting by. He sees his grandmother smiling at him, eyes twinkling. He’d missed her yesterday, she usually slept quite early and he can’t help but smile blindingly at her. Timmy goes up to her and bends down to give her a hug and a kiss.

“Tu m’as manquée, comment va mon ange?” she asked, giving him a kiss in return, making him flush at the old nickname. My angel .

“I’m good, gammy. Tu m’as manqué aussi.” And he had . He’d missed her because while he still FaceTimed with his family at odd times, matching his schedule with gammy’s had been a struggle so their phone calls were fewer.

“I see you’ve brought a boy home, Timotheé,” she says, looking at Armie. Timmy rolls his eyes at the attempt to embarrass him.

He threads his fingers with Armie’s and the touch feels oddly intimate, juxtaposed with how everything has been between them. Armie follows him easily, smiling genuinely. Or maybe he was just that good, who knew?

“Gammy, this is Armie, Armie, this is Enid, my grandmother,” he says, nervously.

“Armie, it’s lovely to finally meet you!”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, um-”

“Oh call me gammy, mon chéri, you’re part of the family!”

Timmy stands there, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, relaxing when Armie smiles.

“I’ll go- um see what mom’s up to,” he says, making an exit, but not before grabbing a piece of toast from Pauline’s plate.

“Hey! Get your own!”

Timmy flips her off.

*

Breakfast is relaxed. Timmy makes sure to sit between his grandmother and his father, leaving Armie to sit next to Pauline. His grandmother asks him a few things and notes how skinny he’s gotten, making him laugh. She isn’t too intrusive and Timmy lets his guard down, lets himself catch up with her for real. He doesn’t notice Armie talking to Pauline and Marc and only turns his head their way when Pauline says “It’s settled, then.”

He looks at Armie who looks like a deer caught in headlights and he knows his sister just pulled one on him.

“What’s settled?” he asks.

“Armie’s spending the day with me, I’ll show him around, while you help mom with the party.”

“Oh um, I can-I can join. I’m sure mom’s okay, there’s plenty of help around here, right mom?”

“Sure sweetie, I’m okay either way.”

“See?”

Pauline narrows her eyes. “What’re you gonna do, you’ve already seen everything, help mom out!”

“Well, so have you! Why don’t you help mom out and I can show Armie around, hm?”

“Don’t be silly, Timmy! Who’s been running this place all this while?”

Timmy smiles back tightly at her smirk. He knows when he’s beat.

“Oh let them go, Timotheé.”

Well, fuck . He can’t argue with that. “Sure. I’ll see you back in time for the party?”

“Yeah we won’t be out for too long, I’m only stealing him for a little bit,” she says, grinning.

Timmy rolls his eyes but gives in.

*

They’re back in the room and they have about ten minutes before Armie has to leave.

“What do I do ?” he asks, while frantically applying sunscreen.

Timmy doesn’t know what comes over him. “Oh, now you wanna talk ?”

Armie looks shocked. “Timmy I-”

“ No . I don’t care. Figure it out .”

He grabs his phone from where it was charging and leaves Armie to join his mom. He’ll figure it out later if it all goes to hell.

It won’t. Probably. Maybe. Whatever, fuck it .