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“Butter and salt?” You call into the living room, watching your bag of popcorn expand in the microwave.
Timothy’s voice is quiet as he responds, and you can’t help the little smile that crosses your face at how polite he was trying to be. Despite quite literally risking your life to get him out of the Handsome Jackpot and inviting him to live with you far, far away, he still tends to speak to you as if the two of you weren’t romantic partners.
“Please,” He calls back.
He’s in the middle of picking a movie for the two of you to watch and you can only imagine the focused look on his face as he does so. The amount of thought he puts into things like this is far too much, though you’ve come to appreciate it over time.
The microwave sounds to let you know that your popcorn is done, the salty smell now filling your small kitchen as you take the bag out and pop it open. You’re pouring the popcorn into a large bowl and adding salt and butter per Tim’s request.
The audio of one of Tim’s favorite movies starts playing from the living room and you’re mixing the popcorn faster, eager to not miss a single scene of the movie (even though the two of you have watched it several times).
Grabbing the bowl and carrying it into the living room, you’re met with the sight of Timothy curled up on the couch by himself, his eyes glued to the movie. You set the bowl down on your coffee table and shiver. It was almost always cold, thanks to the planet that the two of you reside on.
Timothy notices.
“Cold?”
You nod your head,” Yeah. I’m gonna change into something warmer, can you pause the movie for a minute?”
He’s smiling far too sweetly and nods his head once in agreement. He’s seen this movie a million times, and he won’t admit it, but he only likes watching it with you every so often because you seem to like it.
It’s a feel-good movie – most of the movies that the two of you watch are. You try your hardest to stay away from sad movies, not only because they aren’t entirely a favorite of yours, but because Timothy gets way too invested in the plot, and usually cries by the end.
And you hate seeing him cry.
You actively avoid movies that have anything to do with shoot-outs, major catastrophes, or doppelgangers for obvious reasons.
So, happy movies it was.
Practically running to your shared bedroom you throw your shirt to the ground, looking for a sweatshirt to put on. The first one that you come across is one of Tim’s, and you figure that he won’t be upset if you put it on.
You smile to yourself, already feeling warmer as the slip the hoodie on, and make your way back out to the living room.
“Okay,” You smile,” Now I’m ready.”
Tim turns his head to look at you, and through a mouthful of popcorn, he makes a shocked noise. Your face contorts in confusion – what was wrong? He’s chewing his popcorn as fast as possible to speak what’s on his mind.
“Is that my sweatshirt?” He asks softly.
Slowly, you nod your head, shrugging your shoulders.
“It was the first one I saw,” You suggested,” Would you rather me go put one of mine on?”
You’ve never seen him shake his head ‘no’ so fast in his life.
“No! No, not at all. It looks good on you,” He flushes.
You’re smiling, and though you’re trying your hardest not to, you can feel yourself blushing. It’s only moments after that you’re snuggling up next to him on the couch, his arms comfortably wrapping around you.
You always feel secure like this, and after letting Timothy know a while back, he never misses an opportunity to wrap his warm arms around you and press soft kisses to your forehead. The two of you had never really discussed your relationship.
Things were complicated at first, and for several reasons. Not only were you housing an ex-handsome jack doppelganger, but Timothy felt guilty because of this and always used to tell you that he was sorry.
He doesn’t need to be sorry. You’d drilled those words into his head. The two of you had become closer over time, and one morning you woke up pressed against Tim, his arms wrapped around you comfortably. Neither of you had a problem with the close proximity, and after reassuring Timothy that this was the truth, he grew more comfortable physically around you.
Timothy is clingy, that much you’ve figured out. It doesn’t bother you, and knowing that he was alone for seven years in that casino, you completely understand why he’s this way. Since then, he’s hugging you every chance he gets, or sitting as close as he can to you when the two of you are eating or on the couch. Physical touch makes him feel grounded and reminds him that he’s really here. He escaped the casino.
His personality had peeked through the second week he’d been living with you after he’d made a corny joke, to which you laughed hysterically at. That was the first time you’d seen him smile – watching you laugh at his joke. Corny, sure, though he loved every second of it.
The first kiss had been shared between the two of you the sixth week. You were half asleep, and Tim was trying his hardest to scootch next to you in your bed without waking you. You’d sleepily mumbled something along the lines of ’was wondering when you’d go to bed’, and when Tim had lay down next to you and opened his mouth to answer, you’d pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
He’d brought it up the next morning, and after reassuring you that it didn’t bother him rather than shock him, the two of you shared your first real kiss.
So yeah, maybe things weren’t perfectly laid out between the two of you, but Tim liked it this way. No labels, no obligations, just having you to himself and not worrying about anything else. You wouldn’t hold him to anything had the two of you labeled your relationship, he knows this much, though it would still stress him out.
He picks up the remote and hits play, and the two of you are silently munching on popcorn as you laugh quietly at the movie. You don’t notice because you’re too engrossed in the movie, but every time you laugh because of some dumb line of dialogue, Timothy's focusing on you rather than the TV. He loves the way that your eyes light up when you laugh, and the way that you try to keep your voice down because you don’t want to ruin the movie for him.
You could never ruin anything for him, but he won’t tell you that.
“The main character always reminds me of you,” You hum, nuzzling into his chest.
He lifts a brow,” Oh yeah? How come?”
You’re pulling back to explain yourself, grabbing a piece of popcorn and sticking it in your mouth.
“I dunno. He’s really funny,” You smile,” And sweet.”
Timothy’s playfully rolling his eyes, swallowing his popcorn before replying.
“I am not funny,” He tries.
You’re gently smacking his chest in retaliation,” Are too!”
He’s silent as if he’s thinking, crunching on some more popcorn.
“I’m only funny ‘cause I was made to be that way,” He says through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Tim,” You frown,” That’s not true.”
The room goes silent save for the movie, and you’re grabbing both of Timothy’s hands to slowly draw circles on his palms. He always does this – claim that he’s only a certain way because he’d been changed to be that way. He had to be that way. What the two of you call a ‘Jack joke’ slips out now and then, and though he always feels guilty for it, because he can’t help it, you tell him that he shouldn’t.
“...I dunno.” He shrugs.
You take one hand and gently grab his chin, his gaze meeting yours almost instantly. You give him a soft smile as you let yourself get lost in his eyes, and he’s returning the smile because he can’t help it. Seeing you smile makes him smile.
“I do. You are funny and sweet because that’s who you are.”
He’s biting the inside of his lip anxiously, and you can tell that he doesn’t believe you.
“Do you think I’d call Jack those things?” You ask.
You hate saying his name because even if he was dead, he still haunted the two of you. It’s gotten better over time, but Timothy used to flinch at the sound of the man’s name.
“Hell no,” He laughs quietly.
“Exactly,” You chuckle,” That’s who you are, Tim.”
He’s shrugging again, and you lean forward to press your forehead against his. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the room, and you gently take his hands in yours and kiss him. He’s sighing into the kiss, his shoulders relaxing more with each passing second.
He breaks the kiss only to ask you a question.
“...Who am I?”
Every time he asks you this question your heart breaks, and you try your best not to show so. It’s on and off with the question, and you never mind answering it to reassure him. He’d struggled heavily with his own identity when you’d invited him to live with you, and it’s better now, though sometimes he still needs to hear that he is who he thinks he is.
“You’re your own person,” You confirm, pressing a kiss to his forehead,” You’re sweet, funny, kind, and as much as you like to deny it, you’ve got the cutest personality,”
He’s laughing quietly at this because he’s always suggesting that he’s just a copy and paste of Jack’s personality when that’s surely not the case.
“And you’re the only person I trust this much.”
The admission leaves him slightly shocked because he’d never been trusted by anyone for anything. He was supposed to imitate Jack, after all, so why would anyone trust him?
”...Really?”
Silence falls once more as you nod your head, and a surge of confidence flows throughout you. You want to tell him how you feel, how you’d do anything for him, and how he needs to think of himself as more than his past. How you love him more than anything in this galaxy.
“I love you, Timothy,” You breathe, unsure whether or not you’re crossing a boundary,” I love you for you. Not who you’re supposed to be.”
He’s speechless, and the way that his mouth opens in shock makes you laugh quietly. His hands clasp yours, and he feels like he’s flying.
Internally, he’s pondering what he did to deserve you. To deserve the way in which you see him for himself, and treat him like a person. To deserve the kindness that you show him consistently that the rest of the universe has yet to show him.
He can’t speak, and he doesn’t trust himself to, so he pulls you down for a soft kiss. His arms wrap around you, and for the first time in his life, he realizes that this is what it feels like to be loved. He is loved, and has been since he moved in with you.
The kiss is broken only when the two of you are out of breath, and he’s got the brightest smile on his face that you’ve ever seen. The two of you laugh quietly, because wow, you hadn’t expected to admit how much you really appreciated him tonight, but here you were.
You’re turning back around and laying your head on his chest, your eyes going back to the TV to watch the movie once more. Despite having admitted something so heavy, the air feels comfortable, and you’re sure that if it were anyone but Timothy, it would be the complete opposite.
“I love you too,” He whispers, wrapping his arms around you gently.
A smile spreads across your face at his little whisper. You hadn’t expected him to say those words in reply.
The two of you watch the movie in silence, you wrapped in Timothy’s arms, Tim kissing the top of your head every so often. Your eyes flutter closed every so often, and you’re fighting to stay awake at the halfway point. Timothy notices this, of course.
“You can go to sleep,” He laughs quietly,” I’ll carry you to bed.”
Your mind takes this as a green light, and you’re out within minutes, a soft smile spread across your face. Timothy’s smiling each time he looks down to see you sleeping against him, and finds himself internally cooing at the way that you continuously adjust your grip around his stomach.
He’s completely relaxed, probably for the first time in his life ever, and lets himself enjoy the moment. After all, he deserves to, you’ve said so.