Work Text:
Everyone had gone home about an hour ago, leaving them the only two people in the building. Howard always finished work later, but Jimmy could've been out of the place two hours ago, yet he had chosen to stay by his side, something which he had been doing increasingly often ever since their relationship had started. Howard always preferred complete silence when working, but somehow he had learnt to put Jimmys voice in the background and not get distracted when doing paperwork. The man didn't seem to require an actual response or sign that Howard was listening to his words. He once told him, maybe a few months ago, that he articulated his thoughts better when he was actively speaking instead of just thinking to himself. That explained a lot about Jimmy and Howard, surprisingly, found it quite endearing.
At some point the chattering started to dim down and eventually stopped altogether. Howard paid no mind to it as it was common for Jimmy to fall asleep on the couch in the office at hours like this. After another 10 minutes of finishing up and rechecking all of his work, Howard finally stood up and walked over to the man, sprawled out and deep in his sleep. He nudged him a few times, uttering his name, until he got a reaction that wasn't just a light grunt. Jimmy finally opened his eyes and hummed in a questioning tone, a weary “oh” following afterwards.
He didn't speak as much when they finally got to driving. Howard was operating solely off of the however many cups of coffee he'd drunk in the past hour, gathering all of his energy to focus on not falling asleep behind the wheel, and whenever he’d take a brief glance over to Jimmy, he'd see his eyes closed, a subtle smile complimenting his face.
It was like any other night. Quiet and intimate, even when they weren't touching, something about coming back from work to the same apartment felt close enough. Taking their shoes off and unbuttoning their suits, they didn't require any words to silently agree that they were both not in the mood for sex, ending up huddled together on the couch, watching the TV and whatever it was that was playing on it. Eventually Jimmy started to sense that Howard was drifting off and moved from his spot, earning a quiet grunt from the other. He wasted no time straddling his hips and getting his hands on his waist.
“Hey, I was watching that.”
He quickly met Howards lips, his fingers softly pushing into the mans body as he leaned into him. His mouth didn't taste much of anything, but it felt wonderful to explore. Jimmy moved both of his arms to grab at the top of the others shirt, doing a sloppy job at unbuttoning it. He pulled away briefly, their breaths mixing in with each other.
“The ad?”
After unfastening the first few buttons, Jimmy occupied his mouth by stippling kisses along Howards neck.
“Yeah, it's a very-” And one on the lips. “-Interesting ad.”
The man smiled, momentarily examining the others face before quietly scoffing in amusement.
“Yeah right.”
He went back in, this time Howards hands were all over him and he held his face and it was all he could ask for.
He thinks he might've fallen asleep in his arms for a moment before being woken up, led to the bedroom, he said something Jimmy couldn't make out. He couldn't stop smiling, eyes half-lidded, his body craving another bodys heat against it.
All the room had illuminating it were the two lamps on the nightstands besides the large bed. The bed that he was convinced he had seen more times than his own, which, in all honesty, was just a mattress on the floor. He was sitting on the soft surface, knees against his face, mouth against his forearm, head tilted to the side. His eyelids felt heavy, begging to be closed. He couldn't take his eyes off of Howard, neatly putting away his shirt and work pants just as he liked to do. Jimmy had discarded his own clothes a few minutes ago, maybe somewhere on the floor, or a loose chair that nobody ever sat on.
“You should let me move here.” He muttered, his smiles brushing against his skin. “I barely sleep at my apartment anymore.”
The room suddenly fell silent, unnaturally so. Howard had his back turned to him. He froze for a moment, holding the hanger he had just put his shirt onto. After an extended pause he hung it in the closet and turned to Jimmy.
“What?” An awkward chuckle masked the uneasiness in his voice. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No, nothing.” Howard broke the eye contact. His eyebrows were knitted together. “I just…I don't know.”
Jimmy shifted in the bed. He rarely heard the man sound so uncertain and hesitant, even in private. He wished he hadn't been able to pinpoint the few times where he remembered him speaking like that.
“You don't know about me moving in with you?” He asked carefully.
“No, it's not that…Jimmy-”
“Howard.”
Another pause. One of Jimmys hands was on his knee, the other gripping the fitted bed sheet. He tried not to show it on his face. He hoped that maybe if he didn't acknowledge the eerie atmosphere, it would just go away.
Howard breathed in.
“I don't know how long we’re going to be able to keep this up.”
He shifted in the bed again.
“Keep what up? Howard, we-we’ve talked about this.” He halted for a moment. He could feel his heart beating. “No one's going to find out.”
Howards pupils shifted back to meet Jimmys. His fingers fidgeted with the skin on his thumb, trying to tear it off.
“You know well that someone will…eventually.”
He shifted again, biting his lip and taking in a deep breath. His eyebrows furrowed and he squinted at the man.
“I'm too tired for this, Howard. Can-Can we talk about this tomorrow-?”
“I met someone.”
Jimmy froze and time seemed to follow him suit. He forgot to inhale and his breathing suddenly became uneven.
“A woman.”
“What?”
“And you have Kim.”
Jimmys eyes widened. He could barely move, let alone talk. He stammered for a second before replying.
“Howard, we-...We're not a thing. She-”
“I think that…I think it would be safer for us if…” He couldn't even look at the man in front of him. His hands were shaking. “If we stopped doing this.”
Jimmy wished he could somehow escape this. He wished this was just a very unusual, hyper realistic nightmare. He wished he wasn't naked.
“Howard-”
“You're right, it's late. We'll talk tomorrow.”
He wished tomorrow wouldn't come.
He didn't tell anyone about that call. Didn't even mention it to Howard himself. He basically forgot about it, just like the man had told him to do. He did so because he assumed it would be a one time occurrence, just a small slip-up that happened only because Howard felt vulnerable and alone at that very moment, something that Jimmy could almost sympathize with. Something that he recognized in him every time.
He stared at his phone in disbelief, rubbing his eyes as if maybe there was a possibility that he was so tired he somehow read the name wrong. He searched his mind for the perfect word to call Howard until he found it - hypocrite. The word would've flown out of his mouth right after he answered the call if not for Howards voice coming in first, slurred and inarticulate, he could almost smell the alcohol through the phone. Jimmy would've asked if he was drunk, but it was too obvious that he was to risk this becoming an actual conversation, so instead he focused in on the people talking on the TV, half listening to both them and Howard and only sometimes picking up stray words from either of them. It was some cop show and Howard was talking about how much regret he felt for something, the cop entered a house with a flashlight, Howard mentioned Chuck and he muttered something into his walkie-talkie and then he said Chucks name again and suddenly Jimmy lost the ability to tune Howard out. Although he could've just put the phone away and not listened to him at all, he didn't. He knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to do that and he hated it.
“-and yeah, you couldn't be more different from him, but you…I-I don't know. You're all that's left of him. You're-Jimmy, you're...Oh, God. I feel so alone, Jimmy. I'm all alone.”
But he already knew that. There was no other reason for Howard to call him, to talk to him like that, to expect him to listen. He felt lonely and Jimmy was the one person who reminded him of a time where he didn't. Yet hearing him say it felt more like a confession of desire than a statement of fact. He was begging Jimmy for something and it was blatantly obvious that it wasn't anything that he'd admit to wanting sober.
“Nothing works. Nothing makes it better. Therapy doesn't help and...I got drunk to feel better and instead I just feel like shit...I…Jimmy…I don't know what to do with myself.”
He sounded pathetic, at least that's what most people would've gotten out of his speech. And Jimmy wanted to think about it in that way. He wanted to see him as nothing more than a man who’d finally realized how pitiful and empty his life was and was now begging the other to coddle him, tell him how amazing he is and that everything would be okay no matter what. He wished for nothing more but to be able to end the call and not feel any guilt for doing so. There was a point in his life where he would've laughed to himself too, but that was something he felt he wouldn't get to experience for a long time after this interaction.
Yes, Howard was nothing without the people around him constantly reminding him of just how great he is, but that had never come from a place of egoism, rather insecurity. Insecurity that Jimmy was familiar with the origin and history of, something that was holding him back from completely cutting Howard off for the better. He remembered how he'd sit with the man in his bed and he'd talk about things he had never told anyone before. Like that he had never had any interest in becoming a lawyer in the first place, or that he had a tendency to distance himself in romantic relationships because somehow, every time he managed to convince himself that he didn't actually love the person, but was just desperate to feel loved. To feel like it was actually possible for him to be loved.
Jimmy tried to fight it back, understanding him that is. He tried to remind himself that this exact thing had happened before. That he'd gone back to him because he felt pity for him, only to be pushed away right afterwards. At some point in his life Jimmy assumed it was because Howard would use him as a therapist for however long he needed to and then drop him the minute things got better because he truly had no interest in him aside from sex.
“I'm sorry.”
Good grief, the man was impossible to push away. Or maybe he was extremely easy to push away and Jimmy just empathized with pathetic people way too much. Whatever the case, it was what forced him to stand up from the couch. If Howard wasn't able to hear him, he would've cursed at himself for falling right into the mans trap. He held his breath, finalizing his decision in his mind.
“I'm coming. Don't do anything stupid.”
And it was a bit weird to say, because he'd heard that same phrase come out of Howards mouth a million times before.
The door was unlocked and he hated being in his house. It was big and it was empty and in every single corner that his eyes landed onto there was something crucial, yet undefinable that was completely missing from the space. He looked around in the dark, grimacing at the cream walls and fancy yet minimalistic interior, looking for Howard, whose presence was finally marked when Jimmy heard him throwing up in the bathroom. He reacted to the sound, turning towards it, but stopped himself from actually stepping forward. He caught a smaller noise escaping Howard, a deep inhale, then a cough. Silence, then more vomit. Jimmys eyes wandered back to the room he was standing in and he started attempting to scout out something interesting to look at, which proved to be a difficult task to execute in such a place. Lamps, plants and a lot of chairs, each neatly pushed up to various tables. He got his hopes up when he saw a painting, but upon further inspection, he saw that it depicted a landscape that, although pleasing to the eye, served its only purpose of filling in the blank space of the wall, not meant to be actually engaged with. He walked over to an end table next to one of the white couches. Besides the lamp on it, almost blending in with the wood, he could make out a picture frame placed face down. As he slowly started to pick it up, two faces started to come into view. Their smiles bore a hole into Jimmys face.
The door finally opened and he quickly returned the frame to its previous position, turning to quietly walk over to Howard. His face was flushed and he was leaning his side against the wall, his tie undone and his wrinkled shirt slightly unbuttoned. His watery eyes met Jimmys.
“Jeez, how much did you have?”
He asked out of instinct, his chuckle being cut short, ending as quickly as it had begun. The question came out bleak and insincere, just like everything else he'd been saying to Howard for the past 6 years, it showed Jimmy's lack of care for him, maybe even hostility. That's why it hurt so much when he saw the smile appear on Howards face, almost like he didn't actually hear what Jimmy’d just said. Every time he saw it he’d pray it would be the last of it.
“Too much.” He said breathily, hoarseness prominent in his voice. Jimmy walked over to help him walk, lazily dropping Howards arm over his shoulder and grabbing the mans waist. He wasn't drunk enough to be completely dead weight, but he leaned into Jimmy just enough to remind him of a feeling he had forgotten a long time ago, a certain dependence. Of two bodies together. He wondered if it could've meant something else to him if they didn't share the history that they did. If they weren't the people that they were.
He managed to catch another quick glance at the barely visible frame on the table before sitting Howard down on the couch next to it, not too slowly, but not harshly either. After he had leaned into the soft backrest alongside the man, he realized that he really didn't have a precise purpose for being there. Sure, Howard seemed to need Jimmy beside him. To keep him company, make sure he didn't drink himself to death. But Jimmy neither liked acting in Howards interest or lacked love like the other did. He chose to be there for him that night, for absolutely no apparent reason. He bit the inside of his cheek as he realized that he couldn't rationalize that fact. He was simply betraying himself for something he didn't even need. Someone he had been actively pushing away for so long by then.
Howards head came to rest onto the others shoulder and the man neither did anything to pull away or lean into him. It wasn't intimate, or soft. It was close and suffocating. He spent minutes deep in thought. Whatever the other wanted from him, he couldn't give.
One thing he could do, he finally realized, was use it against Howard.
Something clicked in his head. He could taste blood in his mouth.
“You need to move on, Howard.”
The man shifted against his arm. He could almost make out his face from the corner of his eye.
“I know. I…I know, Jimmy.”
His voice was painfully timid, barely sounding like him at all.
“I'm serious.” He finally turned to look at the other, who tried his best to meet his eyes, pushing himself off of Jimmys body. His grip locked in on his forearm. “We can't do this. You need to move on.”
It was hard. It was hard to suppress a smile. And as he walked out of the house, the image of Howards face lingered in his mind. Defeated, dejected. Miserable. He ignored the voice in the back of his mind that told him to go back, usually loud and overbearing. That night it was quiet.