It's You // Armie & Timmy

Chapter 7

Timmy-

When we pull up to the curb and step out of the car I can automatically tell that this isn't anything like I'm used to. The "bar" that we've shown up at actually looks more like a club from what I can see, and it's definitely packed tonight.

I notice that the building is a burnt orange and about 3 stories high, with two upper balconies. The guys begin to walk in and I follow them with Armie right behind me. I reach back for him instinctively because we're body-to-body in here like sardines and I don't feel like losing my only sense of familiarity in a damn club.

He's feeling forward as well and our hands find each other, his wrapping over mine as we try to navigate through the mess of sweaty people. My heart is soaring and my stomach churning from his simple touch. I don't know how he still has this affect on me even after filming with him and knowing him for almost 3 years, but every touch feels like a new place to explore. When we finally reach the bar he quickly drops my hand and it makes me slightly upset, but I say nothing about it and turn to Trey.

"How the hell are we supposed to get a drink with so many people at the bar?", I yell over the noise.

"Just wait here I'll be quick", he shouts. Trey walks away and returns minutes later holding three beers.

"Sorry about that love, I was hoping it would be a little less crowded so that we could talk", Trey shrugs.

"It's fine man, I kind of want to go check out the balcony I saw on the way in here, so we'll be right back!", I tell Trey, who looks a little hurt. I wonder why? He's got all of his friends here, he doesn't need us. I turn toward Armie who needs no explanation of where we are going as I begin to drag him away, towards the stairs.

Armie-

Jeez I feel like the oldest person here. I feel like one of those middle-aged guys who is trying to relive his younger years because he's unhappy with his life. When we walk in I try to grab onto T's shirt but his hand was searching for mine so I grab it. It feels so natural for us to hold hands like this. It feels like his and my hands were made specifically to hold each other. I start to overthink it and drop his hand the second we get to the bar. I have too much alcohol in my system for this shit.

While Timmy talks to Sir Asshole, I observe them while pretending to look around the bar, which definitely seems more like a club. I feel like Timmy is better off with these guys, and probably better off with Trent. Was that his name? Trevor? Trey. I can't help but roll my eyes while watching him flirt with Timmy. The best part is, T doesn't even notice it. Most of the time he's oblivious to men and women hitting on him. I'm not sure how, because most people make it very clear and he's just polite back. I don't think I could take it to watch him flirt with anyone. I feel physically ill just thinking about it. What I do know is I can't let Timmy leave my side because I think if I lost him in this mess I'd have a full panic attack.

Trey leaves and comes back with beer. I greatly appreciate the gesture, but I still hate him. I chug half of it and before I know it Timmy is pulling me away towards a staircase. We walk up the stairs practically holding hands like a damn couple, but he keeps me behind him the whole time as if he is trying to protect me. How odd. When we get to the second floor it is a little less crowded, and there is another bar here too. I let go of Timmy to ask the nice young lady to sell me her best bottle of Bourbon.

My bourbon and I wait outside of the Men's room for Timmy to finish his business, and he comes out pulling up his fly. He looks at me and motions for me to follow him up yet another flight of stairs. These lead to an open room with tables set up and a hanging velvet rope across the entryway with a "No Trespassing" sign. There are doors at the back the large room that lead to another balcony and it finally hits me where he wants to go.

Timmy looks at me innocently and smiles before unhooking the rope from one side and pressing himself against the stairway with an arm out, pointed into the room.

"Ladies first", he exclaims with a grin.

I turn to look back down the stairs before looking my boy in the eyes again and making a rash decision.

"Oh God fine, c'mon before somebody sees us", I utter and push him along with me. We step outside of the French doors and see that the balcony has a patio connected to it with surrounding cement walls that are about 3 feet tall. I grab his hand this time and pull him over to the walls. We both climb up onto the walls and I sit criss-cross, while he has his knees bent in front of him. I open the bottle of bourbon and take a long, slow drink from the bottle, enjoying the burn in the back of my throat. I can feel that feeling again when I look down

"Look", is all I can muster up, hoping that he'll see what I see.

Timmy-

The sight before me is one that isn't describable with words. It's a feeling. This feeling is so strong it's almost palpable. I can taste it. Nothing like New York, nothing like the view there. This is a feeling far more personal for some reason. The city and I were making a connection in that moment, watching people still flooding the beautifully damaged streets below me. Somewhere in the distance I can hear a jazz instrument playing off of the walls, but can't figure out which instrument. It feels so much like home here even though the city and I have barely met.

Armie-

"You feel that, huh?", I ask him. I hope he does.

"Yes", his voice is barely a whisper.

The air between us has shifted somehow, and there's a tension now that wasn't there minutes ago.

"I felt it when I was 23, and I feel it now. This is why I wanted to come back. I've never felt like this anywhere else. Well.. I felt something for Crema too of course, but that was a whole other, deeper feeling", I realize my words might not be making sense but I don't stop," and when we were talking about it in Crema, about coming here, it made me realize you were the only one who would make this feeling even better, the only person who would understand it."

I have to stop talking before I go further, but he's looking at me like he wants me to continue. When I don't, because I know better, he looks down at his feet.

"Good thing you have me here then, huh?", he chuckles and playfully pushes into my shoulder. The way he's looking at me with that grin and almost devilish eyes is making me wonder:

"Are you flirting with me?", I ask him in a joking manner.

"Maybe", he replies brushing his hair out of his face," but only because you're enjoying it."

I can't tell if he's being serious or not but it takes everything in me not to lean into him.

I realize I want to tell him. I want to say it to him right now, in this moment; I want to tell him how I feel. I know it's going to fuck up my entire life, and might ruin our friendship but he has to know. My heart is beating out of my chest and I wonder if he can hear it.

"Timmy", I breathe, ready to spill everything to him.

At the same time a louder, accent-filled voice calls out, "Timmy!", from a distance.

Trey's head is poking out of the doors we came through and he walks through them, toward us, stopping me from continuing my sentence.

I'm not sure if I'm mad or relieved.