Archive of Our Own

Tim watches Mark leave down the hall, waits until he hears the decisive sound of the bathroom door closing before he turns to Alex, narrows his eyes. Alex, for his part, remains completely unaware of Tim's intense gaze, his own eyes downcast to his phone. His can is in his other hand, and he sips at it occasionally. Tim keeps watching him for a few moments, waiting. But Alex doesn't feel the weight of the stare, or if he does, he doesn't respond to it in any case.

"You're a little shit, you do know that," Tim says, eventually. Alex looks up then, furrows his brow for a brief moment before plastering on one of his cheesy grins.

"I don't know," he answers easily. His smile irks Tim perhaps a little more than it should. "What makes you say that?" Tim shakes his head slowly, expression one of disbelief.

"I think you know exactly why I'm saying it."

"Maybe you should clarify? Just so we're on the same page," Alex pushes. Tim's eyes widen, brows raised.

"Your little joke? Forgotten that already, have you?"

"Still not sure what you're referring to," Alex insists, still going along with this bit they do, where Tim's exasperated and Alex pretends to be clueless. But Tim huffs and it seems genuine, accompanied with a roll of his eyes.

"Fuck off, then," he mutters, with a wave of his hand. Leaves Alex with a slackened jaw for a moment before he collects himself, gains enough composure to frown back.

"You're not—" he starts, tilting his head to peer at Tim, to take in his expression - one of expectation and annoyance. Alex's shoulders slump, and he shifts closer on the sofa, brows furrowed with concern. "You're not really annoyed are you, Timmy?" he asks, voice softer now.

"Unbelievable," he mutters, mostly to himself, and then fixes Alex with a firm look. "Do I seem annoyed to you?"

"Well, I mean, it's... Maybe a little?"

"A little?" Tim echoes.

"Maybe quite a bit then," Alex concedes, giving a few quick nods. "Uh, with me?"

"Ding ding! Nice fucking job Einstein," Tim snaps, and then looks away. Peers towards the hallway, because surely Mark isn't going to be much longer, and he wonders if he can hear them anyway. His flat isn’t exactly big; the noise likely carries, and perhaps it was a bad idea to bring this up right now. But in Tim’s defence, they're all a few beers in, and between that and the bitterness that’s been brewing for the last couple of hours, he's hardly thinking rationally about everything.

"I don't..." Alex trails off, shifts even closer towards Tim. He sits awkwardly, just shy of touching their legs together as he mulls over what’s transpired throughout the course of the evening. Then Alex scowls, confusion twisting into indignation. "I don't think it's fair for you to be that annoyed," he settles on saying, as neutrally as possible. Tim scoffs, turns those wide eyes on him, and Alex tries to hold firm, not to shrink under the glare. 

"Oh you don't, do you?"

"No. I don't, actually," he quips, more sure of himself now. Because, okay, Alex will admit he's been something of a nuisance, that he played everything up and perhaps things went a little too far. He'll hold his hands up and accept some responsibility, but ultimately, Tim himself had been more than happy to fall into one of their familiar little 'yes, and' routines.

"You're a prick," Tim huffs, shakes his head. He turns away and reaches for his drink, takes a long gulp. Alex's frown only deepens at the insult, the genuine emotion behind the word driving home the realisation that Tim's being completely serious. Alex thinks it's ridiculous, wants to fold his arms over his chest and go on the defensive, but he also wants to fix this; hates having any sort of serious disagreement with Tim.

"How can you say that?"

"Easily," Tim shrugs. "Just did. Can do it again, look," and he turns to meet Alex's eye, a sardonic smile on his face. "You, Horne, are a little prick." Alex bristles.

"Well, in my defence, you did encourage me."

"Sorry?"

"You encouraged me!" He exclaims. "You didn't need to bring me a bloody tin of ravioli. You didn't have to keep egging me on every time I suggested something. If anything, you're even more to blame than I am!" Tim frowns back at him, eyes narrow and mouth parted slightly. "Plus, I don't see what the problem is anyway - I’ve already helped you clean it all up! I’ll buy you a new bottle of Radox if it’s that big a deal."

"I'm not talking about the bloody bath, you pillock!"

“Well, I— wait, what?” Alex falters, abandoning the rest of the argument he'd been preparing as Tim’s words register. “You’re not?”

“Course I’m not! You seriously think I’m annoyed about you wasting my fucking toiletries?”

“Well it was a bit more than that in the end,” Alex answers, wincing at the memory.

“Yeah. Yeah, you also poured a shelf’s worth of stuff from my kitchen cupboard over yourself, whilst fully clothed.”

“Which you gave me.”

“Which I gave you, yes, knowing full well what the outcome would be.”

“Right! Exactly.”

“Exactly,” Tim echoes. “So why would I now be sitting here saying, ‘No, y’know what, that wasn’t one of the funniest things I’ve seen a grown man do, wash his eyes out with vinegar bath water, and I think actually, that guy’s an areshole for doing exactly what I wanted him to do.’”

“What?” Alex frowns, completely lost, failing to follow Tim’s rambling when he’s got so much craft beer clouding his brain. “Are you or are you not calling me an arsehole?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tim groans, rubbing a hand over his eyes and then pinching the bridge of his nose. “Am I talking to myself here? I mean, are you even listening to me?”

“I’m trying mate, but it’s all a bit of a mess.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Oh, it’s all a bit of a mess,” Alex repeats dutifully. Tim snorts out a quick laugh before he can catch himself, which breaks the tension somewhat, something easing slightly in Alex’s chest at the sound. He softens, shuffles that little bit closer and shifts his leg to nudge Tim’s thigh with his knee. “Sorry, Timmy.”

“Oh, shut up,” Tim sighs, shooting Alex a half-hearted glare. Alex gives his best puppy-dog expression in response, but it just makes Tim groan. He tips his head right back against the sofa, looking at the ceiling and not Alex as he speaks. “Don’t know why you’re saying that, you don’t even know what I’m talking about anyway.”

“Well, no,” Alex concedes. “But in my defence—”

“Yeah, in your defence, it’s not a big deal.”

“I never said that.”

“Whatever,” huffs Tim. “Just, fucking, doesn’t matter does it?”

“Sort of feels like it does a bit, though,” Alex mumbles, confused and now feeling slightly guilty because Tim’s being so uncharacteristically vague. They’ve known one another too long to have stupid little spats, are usually too comfortable saying whatever is on their minds to have to go through this sort of thing.

“Well I’m saying it doesn’t. So let’s leave it there.”

“I don’t… Is that, I don’t know, is that a good idea?”

“Is what a good idea?” Mark asks, re-entering the room with a newly-filled glass of wine.

“Oh, hi, Mark,” Alex looks up and gives an exaggerated toothy grin. “Tim wanted to play a drinking game.” Tim blinks, taken aback for a moment by the speed at which Alex comes up with the lie. Mark buys it, of course; it’s so natural it almost makes Tim himself question the conversation they just had.

“Bugger me,” Mark says through a laugh. “Haven’t we done enough of that for the day?”

“Yeah, suppose so,” Tim sighs, shrugs a shoulder. “Save some fun for the next time we’re all in the same room together, shall we?”

“I think that’s probably for the best,” Mark nods sagely. “Be a real shame if we used up our fun quota for the year all in one night, wouldn’t it?”

“What happens if we go over?” Alex joins in, “Do we get a visit from the fun police?”

“Oh yeah, those fuckers would be here in a flash.”

“They’d come down on us like a ton of bricks, those guys,” Key laughs. Alex smiles at the sound, relaxing ever so slightly at Tim’s joking. He’s still confused by Tim’s very real annoyance, still got this lingering sense of guilt like a pit in his chest over the possibility of having genuinely upset him.

But he puts the worry on the backburner for now, tucks it away and focuses on enjoying the company of his friends. It’s clear Tim’s not ready or willing to talk about it, and Alex doesn’t particularly want to have it all out with Mark around regardless. So he pushes it aside as much as he’s able, drinks another beer and gets swept up in the company. He revels in the novelty of actually being in the same room with Tim and Mark, falling into their inside jokes and the comfortable rapport.

Then when everyone starts winding down Alex settles comfortably into their easy conversations, relaxed with the familiarity of his two friends, their voices washing over him. He feels himself getting tired, and between the weariness and the slight buzz, he relaxes further into the sofa. He leans more heavily against Tim’s side as the clock ticks over from strictly nighttime to the early hours of the morning. Alex doesn’t realise he’s started dozing until he’s jostled awake by Tim’s shoulder moving beneath his face.

“What’s happening?” Alex asks, his eyes scrunched like he can’t bring himself to fully open them. He can’t recall closing them in the first place.

“I think we’re calling it a night is what’s happening,” Tim answers.

“No,” Alex groans, drawing the word out. “Really?” He looks up to Mark, his head still resting against Tim’s shoulder. “Is it?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna head off, I think,” Mark confirms, tilting his wine glass up to his mouth and barely getting a sip from it, as if to prove his point. He stands, and his movement brings Alex back to the present, making him realise the position he's in, head still against Tim’s shoulder.

“Oh. Oh, well then. I suppose I’d better go too,” he sighs, drawing away from Tim even though he’s suddenly so tired. His instinct is to curl in, to press against Tim’s side where it’s comfortable and familiar and he can close his eyes again.

“Eh?” Mark remarks, furrowing his brow.

“Home time for Horne,” Alex clarifies as he sits up straight, reluctantly putting some more distance between himself and Tim.

“Is it? I mean, don’t you usually just stay here?”

“Oh yeah. I suppose I do, usually,” he nods, hopes he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels. But Mark’s known him for long enough, knows Alex’s little tells, and he must suspect something is up because he’s frowning, eyebrows pinched and head tilting as he asks,

“So you’re not now?”

“I dunno,” Alex shrugs, lost and starting to worry again. So he does the only thing he can think to do, which is shift the focus off himself, turning to Tim. “Am I?”

“Well, you’re hardly getting a train now at this time of night, are you?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t want to assume.”

“Bloody hell, how many times have you stayed here?” Mark laughs, thinking the matter settled. “I mean, I assumed. S’what always happens, isn’t it?”

“Yes, this is my lot in life,” Tim sighs overdramatically. “He makes the decision to live outside the realms of modern civilisation, and I’m left babysitting this gel because apparently it's too much to expect a bus to run after 11 o’clock if you're the wrong side of the M25.”

“So I’m staying then?” Alex asks, looking at Tim with his brows raised. He had been fully prepared to just get a cab (extortionate price be damned) given Tim’s mood. Things were off between them, and Alex thought maybe it would be best to give Tim some space. He’d been ready to try and smooth things over tomorrow after they’d both slept and sobered up completely.

“Don’t say it like that,” Tim groans, shaking his head at Alex’s hopeful expression.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re asking me to keep a bloody stray puppy or something.”

“Would I be the puppy in this scenario?” Alex asks, causing Mark to snort.

“Well, I’m off, before I have to listen to wherever this line of questioning ends up,” he says with a good-natured laugh. “This was good though! Not to knock the old reliable Zoom, but well, y’know,” he shrugs and gives a small smile.

“Oh, I think it’s much better like this,” Alex agrees, whilst Tim nods sagely.

“Yes, yes, we’re all chaps who love getting pissed in the same room together. I think that goes without saying.”

“I’m not pissed,” Alex protests.

“No, you sort of sobered up in the end,” Mark agrees, “But then I suppose, you were fairly lashed early on.”

“Peaked too soon,” Tim nods. “He’s not got the stamina, this guy.”

“Yup, okay! Definitely leaving now,” Mark declares, slightly too loudly. Tim lets out a cackle as Mark makes a show of putting his coat on, patting his pockets for his belongings, before giving an over-the-top wave with both hands.

Tim and Alex see him out, leaning in the doorway to wave Mark off. When they go back inside Tim doesn’t speak, just sets about clearing up, so Alex follows his lead, helps to tidy by picking up empty cans from the coffee table and also a couple off the floor which Tim had thrown. They’re silent as they clean, which isn’t too abnormal at the end of a night. But it feels tense and awkward now, this unresolved thing between them starting to stir up Alex’s guilt once more.

Alex throws the rubbish away, and the noise of the cans and bottles clattering together is offensive against the heavy silence. He hears Tim enter the room behind him, the soft sound of socked footsteps followed by the running of the tap. And the fact that Tim is washing dishes right now to avoid speaking to him conveys the extent of his bad mood. Tim turns the tap off, puts a glass on the draining board with what is surely more force than necessary, but maybe that’s just because Alex is on pins now. When Tim leaves the room again without so much of a look towards Alex, he realises he’s just going to have to bite the bullet. He trails through the flat after Tim, down the small hall and in through the bedroom door.

“Tim? We okay?” He asks gently, unsure how else to broach the issue.

“Fine,” Tim answers flatly. “Tired, gonna turn in.”

“I don’t—hmm… Could we maybe talk and then go to bed?” Tim turns around to look at Alex, eyes narrowed slightly. He looks confused, like the suggestion has taken him by surprise.

“So you're fine coming to bed with me then?” He remarks.

“What? Of course I’m—when do I not come to bed with you? Do you not want me to?”

“Never said that.” Alex breathes out a small sigh at Tim’s abrupt response, shoulders slumped. He feels clueless, not used to things being bottled up between them. He’d rather be shouted at; to get it all out there and then at least he could think about dealing with it, instead of grasping at straws like he is now.

“Are you really that cross with me?” Alex asks.

“Fucking hell. Cross, honestly, where do you get this stuff?”

“That’s not an answer,” he prompts gently.

“No I’m not fucking cross with you.” Alex gives an unconvinced hum and a slight wince.

“It’s just, you’re being very sweary. And short.”

“Well, say what you will, Horne, but there’s no need to bring my height into things.”

“Tim,” Alex huffs exasperatedly, beginning to lose his patience.

“What?” Tim snaps. “Look, I’ve said it’s fine. I’m fine, it’s whatever.” Alex sighs, reaches out to try and touch Tim’s arm, but he flinches away as if Alex had been trying to hit him, not comfort him. “No,” Tim says sharply, “No, you don’t get to do that.”

“To do what?”

“To be all, y’know, be all nice. You can’t say you’ve had enough and then turn around and be all touchy like you care or whatever.”

“What? But I do care!”

“Yeah, sure, you care so much you thought you’d tell me in some backhanded, pussy-boy way that you’ve, well, lost interest, or whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“I haven’t—I’m not thinking anything like that! Tim,” Alex sighs, his tone softening. “I haven’t lost interest. Is that what this is about?”

“It’s not not about that,” Tim mutters, not meeting Alex’s eye.

“Oh, mate,” Alex sighs, heavy in the face of the admission. He reaches out, gets his hand on Tim’s arm this time, wanting to touch, to try and soothe some of this insecurity out. Tim lets him, doesn't shirk the touch now. “Sorry,” Alex murmurs, and Tim doesn’t argue further, just shakes his head.

“I don’t get it,” he huffs. “We’re still friends at the end of the day. You can tell me straight, like, in an actual fucking conversation. ‘Thanks for all the fun, mate, was good while it lasted, but time to knock all this on the head.’ Might seem blunt, but it’s better to just be upfront with this shit, I reckon.”

“I’m not,” Alex protests. “There’s nothing to be upfront about. Honestly, I’m fine with you—with us. All of it’s fine. I really don’t want to end anything, if that’s what you think?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what you bloody said!” Tim shoots back, looking up to meet Alex’s eye again.

“I didn’t! When did I say that?”

“It was heavily implied, let’s put it that way.”

“Implied by what‽”

“Well I can’t exactly ‘settle down’ like you so want me to if we keep this up, can I?” Tim says sardonically, miming air quotes around the two words.

“What? What are you talking about? You’re the one always going on about that! I don’t think you have to settle down, why would you—” Alex starts, but cuts himself off as the recent memory suddenly comes back to him. One little offhand comment, just some lighthearted teasing. But it crashes into him forcefully now with this horrific sense of realisation, followed by aftershocks of guilt as he sees how it must have sounded to Tim. “Oh,” is all he can manage in light of the revelation.

“Yeah, oh,” Tim repeats mockingly.

“Because I said…” Alex nods, wincing.

“You did, yeah.”

“That… It was just a joke.”

“Oh! A joke! Well in that case, ha fucking ha!” Tim answers, voice scathing. “Yeah, you know what’s really funny? Taking the piss out of someone’s relationship when you are their fucking relationship, you prat.”

“I didn’t think,” Alex admits with a shake of his head. “I’m an idiot,” he sighs, struggling to get his thoughts in order, so eager to reassure but tripping over his words. “Maybe I shouldn’t have... But I thought, I don’t know. You do it. Feels like you’re always joking about it.”

“S’not quite the same, y’know, when it comes from the guy you shag sometimes. Oh, and also, that guy? Yeah, he’s married, alright. Got all that stuff ticked off, so don’t worry, he’s doing fine.” The words are cutting, Alex’s eyes widening, and it’s like Tim’s slapped him out of nowhere. Even if he admits he was out of line before, that still stings. It feels harsh, Tim’s characterisation of not just him, but their whole relationship, gives a cold sinking feeling in his chest.

“That’s not fair,” he counters. “We’re not like that, you know I don’t think of you like that. And anyway, it’s always been—well. It’s always been this. With the three of us. I thought you were fine with it all.”

“It is all fine! I’m fine with it. You’re the one saying I should grow up and move on.”

“Oh, no, Tim, I—” Alex sighs heavily, steps closer. “That’s really not what I meant. It’s, honestly, it was just meant to be a joke.”

“It’s in poor fucking taste, mate.”

“Yeah, yes, okay. I can see that now. I didn’t think it…”

“Didn’t think what?”

“Well, I just,” Alex waves a hand exasperatedly, trying to find the right words. “I said it, I shouldn’t have, look, I’m holding my hands up. But I didn’t realise you were… I don’t know. Insecure? About it. I didn’t think it’d upset you.”

“I’m not fucking insecure.” Alex sighs softly, doesn’t want to argue anymore, but also he can’t just brush it all off and move on, thinks they’re probably overdue this conversation.

“You can tell me straight too, you know,” he says gently.

“What?”

“If you’re… Well, I don’t know. That’s my point, really. I don’t know what you’re thinking, or anything, if you don’t, y’know. Communicate.”

“I don’t need fucking relationship 101 from you, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Tim,” Alex pleads. “You’re the one who brought this up, the whole, let's just have a conversation stuff. I’m all for it, but you’ve got to practise what you preach, mate.”

“Haven’t got to do anything,” Tim gripes stubbornly. Alex shakes his head and makes a conscious effort not to roll his eyes.

“Haven’t got to be so awkward about things all the time,” he coaxes. “It’s okay, y’know. For us to talk.”

“S’not really our style is it?”

“Well, maybe that’s where we’ve been going wrong.”

“You think this has been wrong now?”

“No, don’t. Stop putting words in my mouth,” Alex says firmly, refusing to take the bait. He sees Tim’s strategy for what it is and heads it off, not willing to get into another pointless argument instead of actually addressing the issue. “You know that's not what I’m saying."

“Well what are you saying?”

“I suppose I’m saying it feels like I struck a nerve. But honestly, I didn’t even realise that, what? You’re conscious about it? You think I’m silently judging you?”

“No of course I don’t actually think that."

“What is it then?”

“Well I don’t know, do I! I don’t know what to think, other than I’ve been made almost painfully aware I’m by myself, then you come along with some gel comment about how sad and single I am at this age, and what am I supposed to do here?”

“You’re not single,” Alex sighs. “Timmy. You’ve got us.”

“Yeah, well, sorry if it doesn’t feel that way when I’ve spent the last however many months locked in on my lonesome.”

“It’s… You’ve really been lonely.” Tim’s eyes widen comically accompanied by a shake of his head.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been lonely,” he responds, tone almost patronising. “You try going a couple of months where the only other person you actually see is some bloke you’ve paid to deliver shit to you and see how you feel.”

“Oh, Tim. I’m sorry. I mean, I sort of knew, but I didn’t… Maybe I didn’t appreciate it properly.” Tim sighs and shakes his head. He’s exhausted suddenly, can’t keep up the hostility. He’s never been great at staying mad at Alex - largely because Alex is so damn earnest about everything. And because for all the two of them love teasing and pushing one another, Alex isn’t actually malicious. Tim knows that really, that Alex wouldn't be deliberately cruel to him, not about this. Besides, the pity from Alex is worse than the smugness, and he’s keen not to dwell on that for any longer than they already have.

“Whatever. Not really your fault, is it? I mean, I know we’ve been calling you Hancock, but you weren’t actually responsible for all this shit.”

“Still,” Alex grimaces. “I feel like I could’ve checked in more? I’ve missed you. Which, I thought, would've been obvious. But now I’m thinking maybe I should’ve actually told you.”

“How the fuck have you missed me? You’ve been fine, you’ve got Rach. I’m the sad bastard that’s been on his own.”

“Rach isn’t you,” Alex says easily.

“What?” Tim squints.

“I said Rach isn't you. I missed you.”

“Well what are you doing that for?”

“Because! The world’s been weird, and I haven’t been in the same room as you for months! And because you’re not just some guy I sleep with, sometimes,” Alex continues, exasperated. “That’s not what this is.”

”I know, I know. Alright, I just…” Tim groans, looks reluctant to say more, but he keeps talking, “I’ve missed you too, probably, and, well. I don’t know. It’s been fucking shit, hasn’t it.”

“I know. I mean, no, I don’t know. Not how shit it’s been for you, I don't.”

“Been a shit time for everyone,” Tim shrugs, trying to wave off the sincerity. Alex gives a small nod of concession, makes a point to look Tim in the eye.

“Yeah. But you’re not everyone. Not everyone is important to me.”

“Shut up,” Tim scoffs. But Alex notices the way Tim’s eyes widen, the slight flush rising on his cheeks.

“Seriously though,” Alex insists. “Just, y’know, to be absolutely clear. I’m happy with all this, and I just… I want you to be happy. Whatever that means for you. And I am sorry. About, well, everything, really.”

“You’re fine,” Tim waves him off. “I mean, you’re right, I could’ve said something, I just… I don’t know. Didn’t want you to see how pathetic I was being.” Alex sighs.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

“No, but, well. I mean, it is a bit, though.”

“No,” Alex says, voice firm. “You’re not pathetic, it’s normal. Look, can we not argue about this too?”

“Who’s arguing? I’m not arguing anything.”

“Alright. Good, that’s… We’re good?”

“Yeah, yeah. You're alright, Al.”

“Sorry, again,” Alex says, scrunching up his face.

“Yes, okay, I think we’ve established that you’re sorry,” Tim says, feigning exasperation but he’s fighting back a grin now. The sight of a smile—even a small one, even one he’s trying to stifle—on Tim’s face loosens the knot of worry that has been lodged in Alex’s chest.

“I could really make it up to you,” Alex offers, raising his eyebrows pointedly. Tim just peers back at him, his own eyebrows raised but in scepticism.

“What’s that?”

“Come on, let me apologise properly,” Alex insists.

“You’ve done an alright job as it is, if you ask me.” Alex rolls his eyes and then moves closer, into Tim’s personal space.

“I could do an even better job,” he says in a soft voice, full of promise. He touches Tim’s chest, rests a splayed palm on his breastbone. His eyes are fixed on Tim’s face, watching his expression closely, and he sees the slight widening of Tim’s eyes as the realisation of Alex’s intentions click. Tim doesn’t object, doesn’t back away from Alex’s touch, which is encouragement enough for Alex to press on with his little half-baked plan. He tilts his head and leans in even closer to press his nose against Tim’s neck, nuzzling there.

“Jesus Christ,” Tim mutters under his breath, but he doesn’t sound genuinely annoyed now, just exasperated and slightly amused. “I don’t need a pity fuck from you, if that's what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not pity. I don’t pity you,” Alex retorts, moves the hand from Tim’s chest to curl against his hip and uses the grip to pull him in closer. “I like you. I like you quite a bit, really.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Timmy,” Alex stage whispers. “I like like you.”

“Yeah, alright, you’re not a teenager anymore, mate.”

“You know I wasn’t doing anything like this when I was a teenager.”

“Well, to be fair to you, we’re not actually doing anything.”

“Yet,” Alex adds, leans back to flash a cheeky grin, and Tim can’t help but laugh at him.

“Yeah, yeah, yet. I’ll give you that,” he concedes with a smile. Alex grins and leans forward, presses a kiss just beside Tim’s mouth, enjoys the feeling of his beard beneath his lips. Tim rolls his eyes and tilts his head so their mouths are aligned, the faintest space between them. “By the way, a little bit of free advice for you, Horne,” he says gently. “If you’re gonna give someone an apology kiss, at least have the decency to go for the lips.”

“Oh no, what have I done,” Alex gasps in mock-horror. “It was all wrong! I’ll have to have another go,” is all the warning Tim gets before Alex is closing the small gap between them, leaning in to press his lips against Tim’s properly. They’re both smiling into it; Alex can feel the curve of Tim’s lips, the slight puff of air through Tim’s nose as he laughs.

“Such an idiot,” Tim mumbles, and Alex nods his agreement, moving in even closer.

“Your idiot, though. Always yours.”

“Shut up, it’s weird when you get like this.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Affectionate.”

“I can be affectionate!”

“You can be little shit, mate.”

“Not always,” Alex pouts.

“S’alright, I’m used to it by now,” Tim shrugs. “Adds to your weird little charm.”

“Thanks,” Alex gives him a toothy grin. “Just charming tonight though. I’ll take a break from being weird, for you.”

“No you won’t,” Tim fires back with a fond smile.

“No, I won’t,” Alex laughs gently, then leans back in, his nose bumping against Tim’s before kissing him again. It’s deeper this time, more serious, and it makes Tim inhale sharply, the intensity suddenly replacing their playful energy.

Their lips part and Alex lets out a soft moan, sounding almost relieved as he pushes his tongue into Tim’s mouth. And that’s ridiculous, the notion that Alex is the one who needs reassurance here, when it’s Tim who’s been in his own head for the last couple of hours about getting to have this. But Alex is kissing him with such determination, like he can’t get enough, can’t get close enough to him, and it steals Tim’s breath away. Tim groans appreciatively against Alex’s mouth, brings a hand up to hold his neck, thumb on Alex’s jaw.

When they part to catch their breath, Alex pants for a few moments and then he’s leaning in again, taking Tim’s bottom lip between his own. He grazes his teeth over the tender skin, not biting, just teasing. But then Tim’s sucking in a gasp, and Alex tilts his head to eagerly curl his tongue against Tim’s. Tim grabs at the front of Alex’s T-shirt, pulling him in closer and returning the kiss with an equal hunger. It makes Alex melt, his own desire mirrored back; he can feel it in the way Tim kisses him, messy with how eager he is. He can tell from the way Tim’s hands are roaming up to his neck and then to his arms, the way Tim’s clinging to him like he’ll lose Alex for another stupid length of time if he lets go.

“I really have missed you,” Alex admits between their kisses.

“You speak to me constantly,” Tim replies, easy and dismissive. Alex shakes his head.

“Missed this. Missed touching you.”

“Bloody hell.”

“C’mon, Timmy. Let me.”

“To be fair, I’m hardly stopping you here.” Alex smiles gently then, leans in and kisses him deeply once more. His hands are at Tim’s hips, and his fingers move beneath his shirt to graze along his stomach, stopping at his navel. Tim's breath catches, the promise of Alex's hand on his bare skin and he meets Alex's gaze, eyes wide.

"Are you serious?" Tim breaths.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Alex tilts his head, then the smile falters. "Wait, do you not want—"

"No, no, you're fine," Tim assures quickly. "Just, y'know. You don't have to, is what I'm saying."

"I know I don't have to," Alex frowns. "Obviously I don't have to. I want to."

"Yeah?" 

"I said I’ve missed you. Even before all this, I was sort of hoping we could, well… You know," Alex confesses. Tim's face lights up with a wide grin, eyes sparkling.

"Oh, you were hoping, were you?"

"Shut up."

"Would love to know what you've been hoping for, I must admit."

"I'm sure you can use your imagination," Alex shrugs, finally moving his hand on Tim's stomach. He shifts it down, pointedly avoiding Tim's crotch, touching his inner thigh. It's over his clothes but it still sparks a heat in Tim, still has him grabbing at Alex's other arm. 

"Been using my imagination plenty. Looking forward to the real deal."

"I like the real deal." Alex says in a quiet voice, like a confession. Tim shakes his head fondly, can't fight a smile and he's given up trying. He leans in to kiss Alex again, slow and tender, trying to pour all the affection he has into it, to show Alex he's missed him too. And Tim has missed Alex, missed sharing his space. He's missed pushing Alex until they can't breathe for laughing and he's missed kissing him, missed his familiar touch. The kiss doesn't stay tame, however, because Alex uses the opportunity to move things along, shifts his hand once more. Tim gasps against Alex's mouth as a palm presses against his half-hard dick over his tracksuit bottoms.

"Oh God," Tim gasps, letting out a breathy laugh.

"There we are," Alex hums approvingly, rubbing his palm against the growing hardness he can feel.

“Fuck,” Tim groans, shifting his hips. “Is it a case of let's get to bed after all?”

“Yes please,” Alex replies, no hesitation. “Clothes off, first.”

“Eager,” Tim teases, but Alex doesn’t rise to it, just nods and gets on with pulling Tim’s trousers and briefs off. Tim gets his own shirt over his head whilst Alex undresses himself, stripping down to his pants.

Their clothes are thrown carelessly to the floor, and then Tim's off, kneeling on the bed and rearranging pillows. Alex takes a couple of moments to admire the view, the expanse of Tim's bare skin, his thighs and the glimpse of his half-hard cock when he moves. Alex smiles, filled with a warmth of fondness which makes him want to kiss Tim again.

He moves to the side of Tim's bed, quickly finding the lube and leaving it within easy reach for when he'll undoubtedly need it, and hopefully relatively soon. Alex doesn't have a plan as such—his fantasies about this have been varied, involving Tim in general rather than anything specific. He just wants to be close, to make Tim feel good, to show him how much Alex really has missed him. Tim has settled onto the bed whilst Alex has been busy with his forward planning, and when he turns he finds Tim smirking up at him.

"Presumptuous much?" He gestures with his head towards the lube, and Alex shrugs.

"Always handy. Also, don't know if you're in any position to call me presumptuous, when I'm the one wearing the most clothes."

"Because you undressed me!" Tim retorts with a laugh. "It's hardly my fault that you were so keen to get your hands on my boy." The laugh catches, Alex shaking his head and giggling whilst he climbs onto the bed beside Tim.

"Your boy was demanding attention," he says through his laughter, getting Tim cackling again.

"Shut up you twerp," he answers, face flushed. Alex nods, leans in.

"Yeah, I can do that," he concedes, then he's kissing Tim again, kneeling over him and cupping his face with one hand. Tim wraps an arm around Alex, pulling him in closer so they're pressed together. They trade kisses for a short while, hands moving over familiar bodies, small sounds of pleasure and contentment occasionally escaping.

Their patience doesn’t last, though, and it's not long before their hands are grasping with intent and their breathing becomes increasingly heavy. Alex moves to straddle Tim’s thigh, and Tim gets a hand down the back of Alex’s boxers, grabbing at his arse and pulling him in closer still. Their kisses shift, growing intense as they rut against one another. When they part, panting, Alex moves his mouth to Tim’s neck instead, kissing the exposed skin below his beard. Tim’s head falls to the side and Alex glances down the length of his body, groans at the sight of Tim’s cock, hard now against his stomach.

"Oh, god," he groans, adjusts his position so he can wrap his hand around Tim's dick. Tim gasps at the sudden touch and Alex jerks him with a loose fist, staring at his own hand as it moves. "This okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're good, that's good," Tim rambles, almost frantic. "Don't stop."

"Wouldn't dare. Waited too long to see you like this again."

"Don't—" Tim gasps, but Alex presses on.

"So lovely. How could I ever get tired of this?" Alex continues with a pointed squeeze to Tim's cock, picking up his pace. Tim’s breath catches and Alex smirks, knows exactly what he's doing.

"Alex," Tim complains, digs his nails into the small of his back as he feels a flush spread up his neck, over his face.

"Missed you so much," Alex whispers, soft and sincere against Tim's throat. "Not just this. All of it, all of you." Tim's shaking his head and Alex hums sympathetically, drops it for now. He devotes his attention back to where he's stroking Tim, keeping his movements slow but satisfying, if the noises he's drawing are anything to go by. But Tim’s impatient, and it’s not long before he’s moving his hips up in search of more, the teasing pace turning frustrating.

"Alex, come on," he groans.

“What do you need?”

"I don't know, I... What was it you had in mind?"

"Didn't get much further than this really," Alex admits, gives another squeeze to Tim's cock and groans at the sight of some precome leaking out. "Fuck."

"Jesus Christ, just—c'mon. What do you want?" Alex thinks for a moment, looking Tim in the eye as he weighs up his options.

“Wanna be inside you,” Alex admits in a rumble. “Please, Tim, can I?”

“Yeah, fuck, yes. Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Alex wastes no time then, moves his fingers down to circle Tim’s hole teasingly. Tim’s back arches and then he groans in frustration when the movement actually takes him further from what he wants, away from Alex’s touch. He rocks his hips back down and breathes in a shaky gasp as he pushes into Alex’s fingers, willing him to actually do something, but Alex isn’t quite done being a little shit, apparently.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Alex marvels, and Tim moves his foot to kick gently at Alex’s leg in retaliation.

“Fuck off,” he dismisses.

“No, I’m serious. You are,” Alex insists, rubs his fingers up over Tim’s perineum and then back to his hole again, still teasing, still not pushing in. “I love seeing you like this. You’re hot when you’re all needy.”

“I’m not needy,” Tim protests. Alex raises an eyebrow at that, gently pushes at Tim’s hole so just the tip of his finger presses inside, before letting it slip free again. As expected, the movement draws a lovely sound, Tim groaning first in pleasure then in frustration when the touch disappears.

“Seem needy to me,” Alex muses. “Hold on,” he kisses Tim deeply but briefly and then leans away, coming back moments later with the bottle of lube in his hand and an over-the-top grin. He squeezes what Tim would call an overly generous amount onto his fingers, and he’s just about to make a comment too, is about to joke about the excessive nature of it. But then Alex’s hand is between his legs again, spreading lube down his crack and the complaints die in his throat.

“Oh, Jesus, fucking—” he gasps, gets a smug grin from Alex.

“Definitely needy. God, look at you,” Alex groans, reverent. Tim whines, whether from the teasing touches or the words, Alex isn’t sure, but either way, it’s a delightful noise to accompany the sight of Tim getting worked up. Alex isn’t unaffected either, keen to move things along. He starts to push two fingers against Tim’s hole with more purpose, has Tim gasping. But it’s a different sound, sharper and quickly followed by a clench around the fingers seeking their way inside.

“Sorry,” Alex withdraws again, “Too much?” He asks, looking up at Tim’s slightly pinched expression.

“No, I don’t—a little? You’re alright, just,” he winces briefly. “S’been a while. Bit slower?”

Alex nods, pushes in with one finger this time and stopping halfway inside. He’s waiting for Tim to settle; can feel the way his muscles are clenching occasionally just from this, an arrhythmic tensing around his finger. Tim's breathing is deliberately slow, willing himself to calm down, so Alex goes for distraction, leans down to capture Tim’s lips in a heated kiss.

It’s a messy meeting of tongues interspersed with small gasps and groans, and it works — Alex feels Tim relax as they kiss, slides in further. The tension ebbs and pleasure rushes in as Alex thrusts his finger shallowly. Tim settles into it, and it’s not long before he’s rolling his hips down, meeting Alex’s slow and deliberate movements. 

Alex runs a hand up Tim’s torso lovingly, appreciating the tension in his abs, the hair, the softness of his body. The feeling of Tim’s ribs rising and falling beneath his hand as he gasps and groans. Then Alex moves his hand swiftly to hold the base of Tim’s cock at the same time as he starts fucking Tim in earnest with his finger. Tim gasps sharply, the sudden change in pace has him reeling and all he can do is give over to the pleasure, composure crumbling. It's overwhelming, the dual stimulation, and all the while Alex is kissing any bit of skin he can reach, mumbling praise of how well Tim is doing between hot, open-mouthed presses to his neck and shoulders.

Alex gets two fingers inside and Tim feels wrecked, absolutely filthy but so unbelievably good. He’s wet and open and Alex isn't even moving his fingers now, just has them pressed up inside him and suddenly Tim feels so hot everywhere. He's panting and his hips are rocking against the pressure, and it’s too much in the best way. Alex is relentless too, his fingers pressed deep inside whilst the thumb of his other hand rubs over the slit of Tim’s cock and then below the head.

“Oh my—fuck,” Tim gasps. “Fucking hell.” 

“This alright?” Alex asks, smug bastard, like he can't see the sheen of sweat on Tim’s body, can’t hear the moans he's pulling from him. The fingers inside him start moving again, and the sensation makes Tim’s stomach swoop like he's gone around a loop on a rollercoaster and he can’t quite recover, can’t catch his breath to answer. His chest is heaving and every time Alex pushes his fingers back in it’s the same feeling reignited in his core. It should be embarrassing, how easily Alex gets him to fall apart, but he can’t care, not when it feels this good.

“Bugger me,” Tim manages to gasp when his brain kicks in again.

“Doing my best here.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, slipping into a moan as Alex shifts, adjusting the angle. And then Tim’s sucking in a sharp breath, throwing his head back as his body jerks from the sudden pressure against his prostate.

“Is it more that sort of thing you wanted?” Alex asks, feigning innocence with his wide eyes and raised brows.

“I hate you so much,” Tim pants, but he’s giggling somehow between choked-off moans. Alex grins back, gives a slow nod of his head.

“Yeah. Yeah, it really looks like it,” he remarks sarcastically, strokes Tim again where he’s sensitive, marvels at the way it makes him quiver and tense. “You’re doing so well.”

“Oh God.”

“This okay?”

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, s’good. You’re good.”

“Yeah?” Alex answers, sounds like he’s seeking reassurance, but then he’s angling his fingers and moving with a determination which completely gives his game away. Tim can’t answer further, too busy throwing his head back with a moan and enjoying the fullness from Alex’s fingers to even try and form a coherent response. 

Alex rubs the palm of his other hand over the wet head of Tim’s cock and the noise Tim makes is so desperate it has Alex himself shifting, suddenly aware of his own arousal. But he keeps his focus on Tim, stroking him with purpose now and Tim himself has lost any semblance of shame he was clinging to, grinding his hips to meet Alex’s movements. His noises become breathless and high-pitched with desperation, but Alex doesn't relent. Then suddenly Tim’s making a gasp which sounds pained more than pleasured, a leg kicking out to the side, straightening and flattening into the bed. He instinctively shifts his hips, squirming and twisting his body away from Alex’s grip. 

“Tim?” Alex asks, trying not to panic. 

“Motherfucker, fuck!” Alex moves his hands abruptly, leaves them hovering slightly awkwardly over Tim’s hips. 

“What's wrong? Too much? Did that hurt?” He asks hurriedly, voice fraught with concern. 

“Argh!” Tim kicks and arches again. “Fuck! Not you, fucking, cramp in my leg,” he explains with a wince, Alex snorts out a giggle then immediately brings a hand to cover his mouth. “Don’t laugh, you bastard! I was right there. Literally seconds away from a perfectly good orgasm.”

“Perfectly good was it?”

“Oh don't play coy, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Well, I was doing my best. Trying to give you a good time.”

“You weren’t doing a terrible job, I must say.”

“I’ve had some practice.”

“Could do with practising a little bit more if you ask me.”

“Oh, sorry, are you complaining?”

“Nah, I’m not really,” Tim chuckles. “C’mere,” he gestures backwards with his head and Alex follows easily, leans up to press their lips together. They’re both smiling, laughing into each other's mouths as they kiss. Tim’s noises turn from laughs to gasps when Alex’s hand wraps around his leaking cock once more, stroking him until he’s just panting against Alex’s mouth. Alex’s hand moves with a practised confidence, seeming to get straight back to the rhythm he had before. Then he lets go with a brief apology, adjusts to kneel between Tim’s legs.

He pushes one of Tim’s legs up, hand soothing up the back of Tim’s thigh which had been in pain moments before. Only now he's also pushing Tim down into the bed, leaning his weight into him. Tim bites back a whine in response but can't stop the way his back arches, the clench of anticipation from his new position, how exposed he feels and how that makes his arousal thrum.

“That better?” Alex asks, sounding breathless himself. Tim’s looking up at him with wide eyes, gives a frantic nod.

“Yeah, fantastic. Is this the bit where I get you inside me?” He asks, cheeky as he can manage given how breathless he is.

“You’ve had me inside you,” Alex frowns, moving to rub his fingers over his hole again to make his point. 

“Not what I thought you were offering.” Tim rolls his hips, unable to hold back a soft moan. The noise turns into a gasp as he bears down and the tip of Alex’s finger slips inside. “Yes, fuck.”

“Not now,” Alex groans with a small shake of his head before he dips down, kisses Tim’s shoulder.

“Al,” Tim complains, whining shamelessly when Alex's finger moves away to leave him feeling empty. “Come on.”

“I can't,” Alex insists. “I’m—fuck—don’t think I’d last.”

“Fuck. Oh, fuck,”  Tim groans at the implication. “ You serious?”

“Mhmm.” Alex hums.

“Christ, I haven’t even—”

“I told you, it's hot watching you like this!” Alex defends. “Really it’s your own fault. For being so lovely when you’re desperate.” Tim’s too far gone to tease him, or to protest, just stares in wide-eyed disbelief and gasps out another moan as Alex’s fingers wrap around his cock once more. He can’t do much else but grab onto Alex and give into the pleasure. Alex’s hand is working over his dick in a perfect rhythm, fingers just tight enough, and Tim can feel himself there on the brink again, can feel the pressure quickly building.

“Oh my god,” Tim groans, head dropping back as his hips jerk upwards.

“Are you—”

“Yeah, yes, just, want your fingers, then. Come on.”

“Please would be nice.”

“Fucking— please, Alex,” Tim gasps, any semblance of shame lost completely. He looks wrecked, sounds it too, and Alex groans himself at the sight. He relents on the teasing though, nods and moves the hand from Tim’s leg so he can slide one finger back inside, rubbing his thumb against his perineum whilst his other hand continues working over Tim’s cock. And that's all Tim needs, not that he wasn’t stupidly fucking close anyway, but the feeling of Alex everywhere, on top of him, pressed inside him, his fingers stroking and touching Tim perfectly in sync to bring him over the edge. 

Tim’s leg pulls Alex in close as he comes, and all the while Alex is rambling nonsense about how lovely Tim looks, how much he's missed him. Tim’s not really listening, finds it hard to focus on much but the near overwhelming pleasure and the blood rushing in his ears. There’s this faint residual pain down the back of his thigh but more importantly there’s Alex, determined and confident, such a familiar presence yet managing to take Tim’s breath away still.  

Alex pulls his finger out but keeps stroking him slowly as Tim catches his breath, staring down at the mess of come streaked on Tim’s stomach, at his own fingers wrapped around Tim’s twitching cock. Tim eventually lets out a long, satisfied groan, drops his leg and uses his knee to nudge at Alex.

“Alright, alright, come on,” he gasps, the touch quickly becoming uncomfortable as he grows oversensitive.

“Sorry, just… Appreciating.” Tim giggles unreservedly, shaking his head. Alex looks up to him with a grin, and his heart melts at the sight he's met with. Tim’s face is flushed, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and an almost bashful look to him. “You’re incredible,” he adds quietly. Tim wrinkles his nose and scrunches his face, but doesn’t object.

“Well,” he sighs. “I wouldn't mind doing some appreciating of my own, if I’m honest.”

“I could take a picture?”

“Fuck off,” Tim cackles. “That’d surely be for your benefit, not mine.” Alex is smiling, shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe,” he says easily, “Sure Rachel would enjoy it too?”

“Christ. Are you trying to kill me before I return the favour or what?”

“It wasn’t a favour!”

“I say favour, you say apology wank. Just let me get you off, man!”

“Not gonna take much,” Alex laughs softly. “Even when you say things like ‘apology wank.’ ” Alex enunciates the words with a disdainful expression. Tim chortles, throws his head back which gets a sappy smile from Alex. He’s overcome with the urge to kiss Tim again, can’t get enough apparently, so he leans in and indulges himself. It’s awkward, the two of them giggling and breathless, their noses bumping, but it’s so fond it makes Alex’s chest ache.

Tim’s hands roam down Alex’s back, linger on his hips as they kiss, and Alex is suddenly aching for more, his own desire rising to the forefront now he’s not focused on Tim’s pleasure. His breath hitches when Tim drags his nails up Alex’s thigh, not too hard, but enough to make something light up inside him. Then he brushes the back of his fingers against Alex’s dick, teasing through his underwear.

“Please,” Alex gasps. Tim nods, kisses Alex again and they work together to get his pants off, Alex kicking them aside hastily. Tim fumbles around for a moment before finding the lube, and Alex watches him slick up his hand with wide, dark eyes and a desperate groan.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Tim breathes, and then his fingers are wrapping around Alex’s cock and and Alex makes a noise akin to a sob. Tim’s hand is purposeful as it works over him, and it’s overwhelming, this perfect touch out nowhere. Alex feels like he’s gone from zero to a hundred, was happy enough rutting against Tim’s leg moments ago and now he’s got Tim’s fingers around him and it’s too much pleasure too quickly. He’s staring at Tim’s fingers, watches Tim’s thumb rub perfectly just beneath his head and Alex’s breath catches in his throat, hips jerking forward.

“Tim,” he manages between ragged breaths. “Tim I—”

“I know, I know, fuck,” Tim says encouragingly. “You’re alright, come on. You’ve been so good to me,” he adds, voice low and Alex screws his eyes closed. The words ring around his head, spreading a warm sensation through him. It overwhelms him, has him ducking down to press his face into Tim’s shoulder, panting open-mouthed against Tim’s own flushed skin.

It doesn’t take him long at all, after that. A few more strokes and some gruff words of encouragement from Tim and then he's coming too. It hits him with an unanticipated intensity, has him desperately trying to kiss Tim again, and he gets Tim’s teeth grazing at his lower lip for the effort. Tim’s kinder on him after, moves his hand away promptly when Alex is done, yet Alex groans at the loss of his touch. Tim laughs gently, shakes his head and gives Alex’s lips an apologetic peck.

“You’re bloody insatiable,” he chuckles. Alex beams, nods his head.

“We’ve got lots of catching up to do,” he defends, and Tim rolls his eyes but he’s smiling right back, gives Alex one more lingering kiss, sweet and slow before pulling away. Tim grabs some tissues and wipes the both of them down, making Alex wrinkle his nose as he throws them to the floor before collapsing bonelessly against the pillows.

“That’s it then? Your idea of cleaning up?” He teases, torn between humoured and exasperated.

“Don’t start,” Tim scolds lightly. “I’m not letting you anywhere near that fucking bath again tonight, I’ll say that much.”

“Well what about the sheets?”

“So there’s a problem with my sheets now?”

“There's a wet patch!” Alex cries.

“Yeah, and whose fault is that, mister drown-me-in-lube. It’s not even that bad!”

“Tim, really.”

“Oh, grow up will you. Listen when it’s your arnuzzi leaking with the stuff, then I might consider entertaining your complaints. As it stands, I’m the one who’s fucked here, and I ain't worrying about it.”

“Well maybe you should be a bit more prepared. For the sake of your guests?”

“Oh well I’m ever so sorry that I didn't properly prepare my boudoir for the unexpected fucking I’ve just been on the end of at the hands of my oh-so-prim guest,” Tim laments sarcastically. “Honestly, do you hear yourself when you speak?”

“Has your pillow talk always been this bad?” Alex asks around a laugh. 

“Don’t know, has your game always been this bad?” Tim retorts, teasing.

“Oi! I did alright! Pretty sure you called me perfect, actually.”

“No, no, I said perfectly good. As in, satisfactory.”

“Give a man a perfect orgasm, and he still makes you sleep in a puddle,” Alex sighs with a wistful shake of his head.

“Oh my god, and you call me needy.”

“I don't think it’s a lot to ask!”

“Bloody hell, fine, if I need to appease your delicate sensibilities just to get some sleep tonight I suppose that's what I’m doing.” Tim huffs. He grabs a discarded T-shirt from the floor, draping it over the darker spot on his sheets and then patting it.

“There we go.”

“That's my shirt!” Alex exclaims, trying to sound annoyed but unable to keep from giggling.

“Uh, I think you’ll find it's my shirt, and you had it on loan.”

“Oh yeah,” Alex laughs harder, falls down onto the T-shirt in question and then shuffles to press against Tim.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re complaining. There’s no way this is worse than that absolute faeces you were sat in earlier.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Alex concedes, still giggling. He squirms to get comfortable, eventually settling with his head on Tim’s shoulder and an arm flung over his chest. He sighs contentedly when he’s satisfied with his position, and only then does Tim move an arm, returning the cuddle hesitantly.

“You okay?” He asks, fingers trailing gently up and down Alex’s tricep. He feels Alex nod against his chest. “You don’t have to indulge me with this.”

“No, I… It’s okay. I want to.”

“Yeah?” Tim asks, his voice soft and hopeful and it does something funny to Alex’s chest again. He hums in the affirmative, presses a kiss to Tim’s skin beneath his lips. He’s quiet for a while, his thoughts all over the place but he tries to let himself be soothed by Tim’s fingers on his arm. After a short while Alex moves, gets up to pull on one of Tim’s T-shirts and turn the light off before slipping back into bed, and to Tim’s surprise, he comes right back to the same position. They’re pressed together as the minutes tick by with Alex’s brain still buzzing, and he lets out a small sigh.

"I can't imagine not having this," Alex admits, voice quiet in the dark of the room. Tim frowns softly, giving his arm a comforting squeeze.

"You don't have to, I’m right here. You think I'm going anywhere?"

"I don't know. I...  It was weird hearing you talk like it was me who’d be…” He trails off, can’t finish that thought. “Because we worry about it. I worry. About giving you up for good." Tim inhales deeply at the confession, nuzzles into Alex's short hair, pressing a kiss there. "I would, obviously but I just... I don't think I really want to? Sorry, that's—it's selfish."

"No, it's... You're alright. Don't really wanna give this up either," Tim murmurs against the top of Alex's head. Alex nods, tries to press even closer, takes a deep breath then forces himself to relax his muscles.

"Sorry," he whispers.

"Don't need to keep apologising to me, love." Alex lets out a small, almost pained noise at the term of endearment which he tries to bury in Tim's chest, but Tim hears it, presses another kiss to Alex's head. "Get some sleep?" Alex hums, gives a small nod and tries to ignore the thumping of his heart against his ribs, tries not to worry if Tim can feel it too.

He closes his eyes tightly and focuses on other sensations; the slow rise and fall of Tim's chest beneath his cheek, the soothing sensation of Tim's fingers now tracing up and down his back. He's not sure how long it takes him to calm down and fall asleep, but he must do so eventually, comforted and reassured and basking in Tim's presence.

Alex comes to slowly, things drifting gradually back into his consciousness. The feeling of a leg tangled with his own and a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. The brightness of the room is discernible even with his eyes still closed and has him squinting when blinks them open. Then he smiles at the sight he's met with - Tim's bare chest, the duvet pooled at his waist. Alex takes a little time to appreciate the view before Tim realises he's staring. Tim's tapping away at something on his phone, looks engrossed in whatever it is, so Alex startles a little when Tim greets him with a soft,

“Morning,” not looking away from the screen. Alex grins, leans in to nuzzle at Tim's side.

"Morning," he answers, accompanied with a kiss to Tim's stomach, which gains him a giggle. The hand at his shoulder swats him playfully, but Tim's looking down at him with a fond smile which lights Alex up, overcome with a wave of affection.

“Wanted to kiss you properly, but you’re so far away,” Alex complains. Tim laughs softly, his fingers starting to stroke gently at Alex’s shoulder and neck.

“Not often I see you like this, I must say,” he comments, sounding as fond as he does amused. Alex nods, closes his eyes once more and hums at the soothing feeling of Tim’s hand on his skin.

“Reckon you’ve got it for the rest of the day, probably,” he muses.

“Are you sticking around?” Tim asks, trying to keep his tone neutral but Alex can hear the glimmer of hopefulness there.

“Thought I would. If that’s alright?”

“Well I’ll make the most of this while I’ve got it, I think,” Tim nods, pulling Alex closer into him in a one-armed hug using the hand on his shoulder.

“I will have to get up at some point,” he laughs.

“Yeah, well, I’m aware of that. You’ll have tea to make for a start.”

“Oh that’s my job, is it?”

“Always your job, keep up, Horne. You're on the drinks, I’ll handle breakfast?”

“Sounds good to me,” Alex nods. He’s in no hurry to get up though, and Tim’s on the same page there; more than content to make the most of Alex tolerating a cuddle, keeping his arm around his shoulder.

Alex enjoys the slow-paced morning he gets to have, lazing in bed pressed up against Tim. He goads Tim into sharing some stuff he’s working on, eagerly listening to bits of unfinished poems and the concept for his next show. He revels in it, laughing along with Tim, offering small suggestions where they’re wanted, but mostly just entertained and enjoying listening. Appreciating Tim’s presence and his humour and how easy this has always been, the way the two of them click into place with one another.