Chapter Text
Jared honestly doesn't know how long he's been working.
He tries not to do this to himself, most days. Keeping a somewhat consistent and reasonable schedule helps him not feel buried under mountains of legislation and voter outreach and endorsements and whatever else. He's heard plenty of his colleagues joke about how they really don't work much considering what they're paid, and that's true enough, but it doesn't mean the work they do have is necessarily easy. And they are limited on how many staff they can even hire. God help him, if he were a Senator.
Like that'll ever happen.
Point is, he does try not to get stuck in his office late at night like this so much anymore. But for some reason, about a few hours ago, when he was about to leave for the evening he decided to pore over his latest draft of questions, for the upcoming UAP hearing. And, well– that hearing is important to him, so now he's been staring at his computer screen for those last few hours, nitpicking every word, every detail of his phrasing, every fact he brings up and when and how. He hasn't felt so much like a lawyer in years– and that is not a good thing.
He scrolls to the top of the draft again, clicking onto the "[Intro]" currently filling in for however he'll start his questions. God, shouldn't he actually type something up for that? Usually he just wings it. But what if he forgets to thank someone– like Tim? That's stupid. He's not going to forget to thank Tim.
He shakes his head, looking over at the clock on his wall for the first time in a while, and– Christ. It's nearly 1 in the morning. How long has he been messing with this? He runs a hand over his hair, slumping back into his chair and letting his gaze fall back on the bright white of his computer screen in defeat. He blows a short gust of air out of his mouth, just staring at it for a moment before he reaches out and shuts his laptop.
The rest of his agonizing can wait 'til tomorrow. He needs to get home.
It's so late already, though, he thinks as he stands up and stretches. By the time he gets back to his apartment, it'll be– around 1:30, at least, and then he'll have to get ready for bed, and then be up around 7 to get to work in time…
Well. He guesses he did that to himself, at this point. He moves to grab his coat, throwing it over his shoulders before finding his bag on his couch. God, it would be nice if he could just sleep on his couch. If only he had–
He stops, about a foot from the door.
Tim– Tim mentioned something a while ago, something about sleeping in his own office. Jared wouldn't even think of it, not if he hadn't been given a key by Tim himself. He'd handed it to him after a meeting about a month ago, brushing off the gesture with some silly dismissal along the lines of– "Oh, it's just in case you need something late at night and I'm not around". And Jared had taken that key, and put it somewhere safe, because although he might never admit this to Tim, it made him feel special that Tim trusted him enough to effectively hand him 24/7 access to his office.
And if Tim is there right now– God, it's such a stupid idea. Jared half-wants to kick himself for thinking of a plan like this– but he's not strong enough to resist the other half, the part of him that so strongly wants to go crash on Tim's couch for the night, assuming he'll let him. He really is exhausted, which he knows will only be worse tomorrow if he drags himself all the way home right now– and honestly, he hasn't been sleeping great at home anyway.
Besides, if Tim isn't alright with it, or seems like he won't be– he can just say he was coming to talk to him about the hearing he's been tormenting himself about for hours. He probably should talk to him about it soon regardless. And if Tim's not there, then obviously he'll leave. He already said he was fine with Jared being there by himself for a second; he wouldn't have given him a key otherwise.
It would clearly be a step too far to sleep on Tim's couch without his permission, though– and Jared isn't about to wake him up wherever else he could be with a text asking for it. He'll just have to hope that he's there.
He doesn't want to think about why the idea of sleeping there without Tim is so much less appealing anyway.
With his mind made up about the game plan– half-baked as it might be– he returns to his desk, opening one of the top drawers and searching through it for only a moment before he finds the key to Tim's office. He's sure that's which one it is; he remembers getting it in the first place so clearly, and where he put it once he'd made it back to his office that day. He shoves the key into one of his jacket pockets before heading out, taking his bag with him just in case Tim isn't there, and he does have to go home.
God, he's going to have wasted even more of the minutes he could've been asleep if this doesn't work out. Oh well.
He has to head over to Longworth from his own building, which is just a little unfortunate, but certainly a walk he's made plenty of times before. The cold air stings his face when he steps outside, making him draw his coat tighter around himself. At least it wakes him up for a moment. It also makes him crave the warmth of Tim's office that much more; the cozy, familiar halls and furniture and lighting leading back to his personal room; the comfort of everything about Tim himself–
He cuts off at that last thought, resisting the urge to literally whack himself in the head. Jesus, this might be an even worse idea than he thought.
His feet carry him across the rest of the way to Longworth regardless, until he can get to one of the side doors and, thank God, buzz in with his member-of-Congress keycard. He makes his way through the halls to Tim's office easily, knowing the route like the back of his hand given how much he's been here recently. The building is dark and empty, which he knows he should expect– nobody wants to work late in winter of all seasons– but it's unnerving nonetheless. By the time he reaches Tim's office, it's taking significant effort on his part to not feel utterly creeped out.
He stops at the hallway door, taking a quick glance at the nameplate just to make sure the darkness hasn't thrown his sense of direction off too much before he digs his key out of his pocket. He holds the knob still with one hand, inserting the key ever so carefully into the lock and turning it as quietly as possible before removing it. The door clicks gently open as he turns the knob, swinging in to reveal a bullpen that is as empty and dark as Jared figured it would be. He breathes a short sigh of relief at that as he steps in and shuts the door behind him– he doesn't have any sort of a problem with anyone on Tim's staff, but that doesn't mean he needs them knowing he's here right now. He turns the lock again before going down the hall to Tim's own office, shoving the key back into his jacket as he does so.
He stops just in front of Tim's closed door, looking at the carpet to confirm that the lights appear to be out inside. He takes in a slow, meant-to-be-calming breath as he settles his hand on the knob again, staring down at it for a moment and trying to sum up the nerves to go in. This is a stupid idea, right? Maybe he should just leave. Then again– he is already here, has already made it this far. It seems silly to turn back now.
With that in mind, he turns the knob with even more caution, trying to keep his breathing quiet as he steps into the room.
It's dark, but his eyes adjust quickly, quick enough to almost immediately find Tim, fast asleep on the folded-out couch. He has a couple pillows with him, one under his head and the other held beneath his arm, a blanket thrown over the rest of his body– and a whole foam mattress that Jared honestly didn't know he had between him and the actual couch. He swallows, looking around at the rest of the office and suddenly debating if he should leave even more heavily, not exactly wanting to wake Tim up– not to mention that he's feeling a tad creepy, just standing here with Tim sleeping a few feet from him.
He glances at the door again, left half-open due to his assumption that the rest of the office space is dark and quiet enough as to not wake Tim up, and tries to ponder what to do with his sleep-deprived brain for a moment– and then a heavy sigh comes from the couch, and he looks back to find Tim shifting under his blankets before he rolls over to face Jared, who freezes immediately.
Tim sighs again. Relaxes for a second. And then his eyes open.
Shit.
So much for getting out before he notices.
"Jared?" Tim mumbles, blinking at him in what is clearly half-awake confusion. Jared presses his face into one hand, nearly missing Tim sitting up a little to reach over and grab his glasses off the side table. He shoves them clumsily onto his face, checking the digital clock also on the table before he turns back to Jared. "What're you doing here so late?"
"Uh," Jared is truly realizing how dumb of an idea this was now. What's even the answer to that? I didn't feel like going home to try and fail to sleep again, so I thought I'd come bother you instead? What's up, man?
"Not here, I don't mean," Tim corrects, reaching a hand up to start messing with his hair, which draws Jared's attention to it. It's honestly not all that out of place– he guesses he probably hasn't been asleep that long. "Well, that too, I guess. But I meant at work in general."
"Oh," Jared says dumbly. "I was just– working on stuff for the next caucus hearing, and I lost track of time."
"I gotcha," Tim nods. He drops his hand out of his hair, starting to actually pull the blankets off of himself. "I assume you've got a question for me, then?"
"Tim– no, I don't– you don't need to get up," Jared says as he swings his legs over the side of the couch. Tim stops, giving him a bewildered look, although Jared is suddenly finding it hard to feel too nervous about that– now that he can see the somewhat ridiculous plaid pajamas Tim is currently wearing, anyway.
"Why're you here, then?" Tim asks. He clarifies, this time: "Here, specifically."
"I just. Uh." Now the anxiety is back tenfold. He feels stupid himself, standing here in his coat and suit and everything at 1 in the morning, his bag still over his shoulder. How did he think this was going to go, really? The fabric of his coat is itchy around his throat, the full weight of it on his shoulders making him far warmer than he should be just being inside. Tim stares silently back at him, and Jared can feel heat rising to his cheeks, heat which he's certain is visible even in the dimness of the room because God just seems to hate him that much today.
"I'm sorry," he manages after a moment. "I didn't– mean to wake you up, not really. I'm just gonna go."
"Jared." Tim barely lets him turn to the door, his tone– more incredulous; perplexed, maybe, than it is stern or angry. Jared stops with a soft sigh. "Wouldn't you rather just tell me why you're here, and I probably won't even remember it by the morning?"
"I'm– alright. Fine. Fine," Jared looks back at him, trying to brace himself, because he really does hate the idea of having something souring their relationship tomorrow, or the next day. "I'll tell you, and we can just laugh about it and then never speak of this again, alright?"
"Sounds good to me," Tim agrees. Jared holds in another sigh, rubbing his hand over his face again and trying to avoid his gaze.
"I just, uh– I remembered you saying something about sleeping here, and it's so late that I wondered– I didn't know if you had an extra mattress, or something…"
He trails off. It's sort of a half-truth– he would've been fine with just sleeping next to Tim on the couch, possibly would've preferred that– but it gets the main point across, he thinks, without sounding too weird. Tim tilts his head at him, that confused frown coming back onto his face.
"That's it?" He asks, sort of chuckling with it. "I mean– gosh, you were sweating over there like you came to tell me you just proposed to McCarthy."
"Ha– no," Jared forces out a weak laugh, his nerves slowly dissipating as Tim stands. He moves over to the closet next to Jared, opening it up and starting to pull something out, although the door blocks Jared's view of what exactly for a second.
"I do have another mattress," Tim thankfully explains, and it becomes equally clear as he gets it all the way out of the closet and lets it fall onto the floor. "Should be able to find you some blankets, too, if you give me a minute to search here."
"Yeah. I'll help," Jared offers, dropping his bag and starting to tug his coat off. Tim waves a hand dismissively at him.
"I got it. You just sit there and look pretty," he tells him, barely seeming to hear himself say it, even as the phrase makes Jared's face heat up again for an entirely new reason. He sits down on the couch nonetheless, starting to unbutton his jacket and watching Tim search the cabinet. He does find some blankets after a minute, about once Jared has gotten his jacket and belt entirely off and is starting on untying his shoes– figuring that removing the least comfortable parts of his work attire is about as far as he's going to get in terms of getting undressed for bed tonight.
Tim sets the blankets on the mattress along with another pillow, then tugging the mattress across the floor a bit until it's parallel to the couch. He crouches down, pushing his glasses up his nose with his shoulder before he starts laying the blankets out to cover the mattress. Jared is trying not to watch him too intently, as he unknots his tie, but it's a little difficult not to– especially given that he's not sure where else to look. He's been in Tim's office during the day a billion times. There's not much point in trying to pretend he's examining the walls or the shelf of challenge coins.
"Should be all good," Tim says after a moment, looking back over at Jared. He tugs his tie out from under his collar, undoing the top button of his shirt as he nods at him. "I'll get us coffee in the morning or something, alright? Just get some sleep."
"Thanks, Tim, seriously. And sorry about all of this," he says. Tim is already shaking his head as he gets up and grabs his shoes off the floor.
"Don't mind at all. Might be nice to have some company for a change," he replies. Jared smiles, setting his shoes by his bag and draping his jacket, belt, and tie over it– figuring that'll have to be good enough for the evening. Tim climbs back into his makeshift bed behind him, gesturing towards the door when Jared turns to him.
"You close that?" He asks, Jared immediately leaning over and shutting the door. He locks it for good measure before going to kneel on his own mattress, letting himself crash the rest of the way onto it, face-first into the pillow. Tim chuckles somewhere above his head.
"Night, Moskowitz," he murmurs. Jared lets out a relaxed sigh into the pillow, his eyes finally slipping shut. For some reason, he feels like he can sense Tim staring at him, but he brushes it off as his own imagination.
"Night, Tim," he returns, and lets the darkness overtake him.