Calling Him By My Name [Armie Hammer + Timothée Chalamet | Charmie | mxb]

6 | Timothée

Luca doesn't treat any scene preciously. So the night we shoot the love scene in Oliver's room is like any other, no more or less of a service to the story than the biking scenes.

We open with Armie and I standing side by side, leaning against the wooden footboard of the bed in easy silence. But inwardly, Elio's mind is churning, tortured by tumultuous thoughts, fighting the simultaneous impulses to flee and to ravage the handsome lodger beside him.

My head is lowered as I fiddle absently with the wooden bedframe, and after a while I go to straighten up. Armie chooses that precise moment to lean in - probably trying to lay a kiss on the top of my head like he often does - and narrowly misses his target.

I suppress a laugh by leaning over to nuzzle and then playfully bite his clothed shoulder. Armie chuckles at that, and this is so much like our usual interaction that I can't help the smile that steals onto my face. I immediately correct it, schooling my features back into brooding Elio mode and hoping the camera angle conceals my little slip.

We're silent for a beat.

"You okay," Armie asks softly.

I mull over the question, careful to keep my face in check, and nod without meeting his eyes.

"Me okay," I whisper after a long pause. Armie chuckles again.

I stare ahead of me with a forlorn expression, eventually pushing off the bed and beginning to pace around restlessly in front of him. What do I do? Do I go for it, for him, or spend the rest of my life wondering what if?

Distraught, I sag against his body. My weight nearly drags Armie from his perch against the bedframe, and he laughs as he recovers his balance. I wrap my arms around his neck. Collapsed against him, I feel his hands wandering over my back and make a few pitiful attempts to climb his body like a tree. It turns into a sort of wrestling match, Elio's awkward, fumbling attempt at feeling Oliver up.

Armie's laughing, his body warm and hard against mine and our limbs hopelessly tangled, breaths snuffling through each other's hair. My hands card through thick, golden strands as his come up to frame my face. And then I hear it: just a brief slip-up, a fleeting, breathy Tim that I hope the cameras don't pick up.

"Can I kiss you," he asks breathily, eyes taking on that dreamy sheen that he gets sometimes.

"Yes please," I respond immediately, nearly cutting him off with my breathless enthusiasm. I tease him a little at first, bracing my hands on the headboard and rocking back and forth on my heels a few times. Grinning, Armie grips my head to hold me still and lays a soft kiss to my temple, then another one on my forehead, then another. I tilt my head back, mouth falling slack, luxuriating in the affection as he nuzzles my face and neck. Lips parting wantonly, I wish he'd just kiss me on the mouth already, but the teasing prick knows what he's doing.

Armie makes a move to leave after the final kiss, but I pull him back and jump on him, trying to crawl all over his body. My hands seek purchase in his hair, legs climbing his before I give a final hop and let myself slide back down to the floor. 

Luca directs us to sit close to each other on the bed for the next part. Armie shuffles out of his espadrilles and I let a moment pass before inching my foot closer to his. Slowly, I cover his foot with my own, touching my big toe to each of his. Pinkie toe to big toe, all the toes.