THEN AGAIN • TC ✔️

12. Interruptions

Timmy isn't bad at blocking things out. In fact, he's quite good at it. (He can block out the noise in the hallways in a free period when he's trying to concentrate. He can block out the fear that all of his students are secretly laughing behind his back, block out the worry that he's a really bad teacher and that no one is gaining anything from his classes.)

Only when things is Clem having sex, it's a bit trickier.

He rolls over in bed, something he's done five times in the space of five minutes. (And it's not like he's been counting but it's also not like there's much else he can do, so yes. He's been counting. And waiting. Waiting for the noise to stop, because Nick is grunting like a fucking caveman and it's fucking irritating and Clem--

(Clem isn't making much noise. If she is, he can't hear it over Nick's weird growls. And, if she is, it really isn't any of his business.)

--is kind of silent. It's difficult to think about nothing when thinking about nothing is all he can think about. And that means he's thinking about something, and that something is Clem, and he definitely shouldn't be thinking about her.

Even more so when he finally does hear her. It's a quiet whimper and it makes everything go south.)

Timmy doesn't want to be hard.

(God, he just wants to sleep. He's got two lots of homework to mark tomorrow and a presentation to make and a freshman class that gives him hell. Timmy may be a match for them, but it doesn't make those lessons any less exhausting.)

But he is hard and he wants to scream into his pillow. Hit something. Maybe the wall that separates their bedrooms.

Shut the fuck up!

That would do it. Maybe.

But Timmy doesn't want to intervene because then Clem will know that he knows and Timmy wants them to pretend that this never happened. (Actually, what he wants is to be clueless. He wants to be genuinely unaware of what's going on next door, but unfortunately for him that's an impossibility, so pretending is the next best thing.) Maybe they'll pass each other in the hall tomorrow. Maybe he'll make Clem a cup of coffee when he makes his own, and he'll pretend to ignore the bruises on her neck and the way she looks a little dishevelled.

But that probably won't happen because Nick (fucking Nick) will still be there in the morning and Timmy's not making coffee for him. Hell no. The guy looks like that, he can get his own fucking coffee. Probably for free if he flirts with the barista.

Clem whimpers again and Timmy genuinely feels like something just shot down his spine. He ignores his dick. Rolls onto his front and squashes himself against the mattress like he can somehow compress it into subservience.

(He can't.)

They're still going and what time is it?

Late enough that Timmy should be asleep.

But now there's noise and weird thoughts (that he shouldn't be thinking) and also a semi to deal with.

Timmy really does feel ashamed as he reaches a hand down into his boxers. It's not something to be proud of, jerking off to your flatmate having sex, only he figures it's at least not completely immoral because whatever is going on next door, it's remote from Timmy. All he gets are the aftershocks, the (stupid, annoying) grunts and Clem's little moans, and really is that any different from porn?

(It is. It is, and he hates it.)

Timmy comes embarrassingly quickly, and then cleans his hand on a tissue. Rolls over onto his side and tries to sleep, because it seems the noise has stopped. His boxers will be itchy in the morning but right now that's the last thing on his mind. He just wants to forget all he's just done and heard and-

Oh, for the fucking love of fucking fuck's sake.

Really?

Again?

(Timmy can't remember the last time he had sex but it was definitely more than a year ago, because no one wants to fuck a teacher (apart from maybe some of his students but that is not a route he's taking, at the risk of going all Sting and shit. Also, he has morals.) So yeah, maybe he hasn't gotten laid in a while, but surely three times in one night is a little excessive? His fucking days are not so far behind him that he can't remember what it's like to come into something that isn't a fist or a tissue, and Timmy knows that he definitely can't get off three times in one night. But then again, Nick's probably the human equivalent of a sperm whale.

And God. It really has been a long time since he actually- God. He really is fucking pathetic. Because he remembers things, things like the crumble night Clem had promised him, things that mean nothing to other people but everything to him. He really is pathetic because he gets off to his flatmate getting off and he can't remember the last time he actually went out, even less the last time he got laid.)

Clem is gasping a lot and Nick seems quieter, but maybe it's just that Timmy's ears are ringing. He's tired and it's a lot to take in, so he sits up in bed and suddenly feels quite hot. Runs a hand over his face. Glances at the time before he can stop himself, and it's only twelve o'clock but it feels like later than that. Way later. His boxers are disgusting so he cleans himself up with them and puts on a new pair. Shrugs on a hoodie over his shirt, because it's freezing.

(He used to think New York was cold in winter. This is fresh hell.)

And then he picks up his glass of water and his empty dishes. Carries the tray to the kitchen, arms full. Timmy potters about quietly, filling up his glass. Putting his plate and cutlery next to the sink. And then he sits by the window, waiting for the groaning to stop. Watches the snow fall down, sleety grey against the sky.

It dawns on him that it's the fourth day of December and he hasn't really even thought about Christmas yet. (Like, he's seen the decorations in the stores. Has been seeing those since they went up at the beginning of November, but he hasn't really thought about Christmas.)

All Timmy knows is that he's spending the holidays here, at home, (well, home) with Clem. And he lets himself think about that for a moment. Think about how happy that makes him.

It's not like he's going to get much sleeptonight, anyway.