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

25 | Armie

"Do you," Timmy challenges. "Or would you say fuck it just for my birthday?" He shakes his head in dismay. "How could you even bring yourself to-"

"Believe it or not, having sex with you is not the most disgusting act I could ever partake in - but thanks for checking." I scoff and fall back on the bed, arms folded behind my head. "I told you I'd do anything for you - and this wouldn't be the most difficult."

Timmy twists his lean torso around to face me, lips pouting and porcelain face wary beneath his mop of curls.

"You never meant to fuck me." He crosses his stick-thin legs and twiddles his thumbs, looking every bit the petulant child I can't seem to stop treating him as. "Even when you said that, you didn't want me like this."

"I meant what I said." I'm his for the taking. But just as I predicted, Timmy can't take advantage of my crumbling marriage and bitter broken heart. Emotions flit across his face, revealing his conflicting desires. At length, he sighs almost despairingly.

"Not like this... You're hurting, Armie, and probably a little confused. You think you don't care anymore because Liz betrayed you, but you'd hate yourself in the morning if I let you make this mistake with me."

"Babe-"

"Shh," Timmy crawls on top of me and stills my tongue with his index finger against my lips. "I know you, Armie. You don't cheat. You're not the type. You and Elizabeth can get through this - but even if that weren't the case, you'd never fuck anyone else before breaking it off with Liz."

I bite my lip, knowing he's right. It boggles my mind that I even got this far with Timmy, my bro, my best friend. Would I do this for him? I'm a little shocked to realize what I'd be capable of if he didn't have more sense than me.

As usual, Timmy reads my mind.

"I don't want you to do this for me because I follow you around aimlessly, looking up to you, wanting to be like you, wanting you to like me. I don't want you to give me your body as some kind of birthday favour. Don't be an idiot."

Smirking, I push him off and reverse our positions, caging his body with mine.

"Fifteen spanks for the insecurities, and after each one you will repeat the words, I am a gorgeous boy and Daddy loves me."

Timmy bites my shoulder playfully in a futile attempt to snuff out my snark. Settling between his splayed legs, I trail my hands across the smooth supple flesh of his long limbs before lifting them on either side of my hips. I gather him in my arms, cinched tight around me, and kiss him lovingly.

"I don't wanna hurt you," I whisper, my fingers trailing along his face eliciting a soft shiver. Timmy looks up at me with big, innocent eyes that remind me of a little whipped puppy gnawing at the ankles of his saviour.

"You won't," he breathes, eyes brimming with more confidence and faith in me than I have in myself. My heart lurches in a dangerous sort of backflip that it's never done before as I gaze down on the boy spread out beneath me. His dark curls fan out in sharp contrast against the white pillows, beautiful pale skin flushed and glowing with adoration. I feel like a king in his eyes, and simultaneously like the least deserving man on the planet. Slowly, in a daze of love that has me weak, I lower my face to brush my lips just so against his. Timmy doesn't rush the kiss, just parts his soft, plush lips in a gentle flutter like butterfly wings. Our mouths meet in the sweetest sound, rubbing slow and sensual against each other, unhurried and feeling.