Work Text:
“I’m so close...Tim!”
“Fuck, me too…”
Armie and I texted through the rest of that Summer of ‘16. Work (and Elizabeth) made the texts fewer and further between. Phone calls were even more rare - usually via FaceTime - I tried to keep it friendly, professional - but there is always one moment.
“It bit you?” Armie laughs.
“I’m from New York City - the only horses I’ve ever seen pull carriages around Central Park. The poor things are barely animals,” I counter, Armie continues to laugh, “Shut up, asshole. I hope Trigger threw your enormous ass at least once.”
“Silver. The Lone Ranger’s horse is Silver...Trigger is Roy Rogers’”
“Whatever”
“Ah...Tim, I miss you,” Armie sighs. And there it is - we don’t say anything else, but when we talk - if we talk - it’s like ‘I miss you’ can’t stay inside.
But then, Elizabeth would pop into the frame.
Then Armie went on location to India.
Elizabeth was NOT into it - she went to Australia, but gave Mumbai a wide berth. While he was on location, away from his Wife and ‘Best Friend’...well, the texts were more frequent, far more flirtatious, and then we added back more FaceTiming - more flirting.
In all, it took a week before…
“Sorry - you caught me getting ready to go out,” I answer the phone wrapped in a short towel and nothing else. He’s seen me in less, but not recently.
“Hey - believe me when I tell you, I don’t mind.”
“Armie…”
“I miss you. I wish I were there - I loved the smell of your shower gel,” Armie half-whispers in the darkness of his hotel room.
“It’s Molton Brown, I’ll send you some for your birthday,” I deliberately misunderstand him.
“Deliver it in person?”
“To India?”
“Timmy…,” Armie pulls his white t-shirt over his head. I watch him thumb the button on his jeans. Fuck.
...And just like that, I’ve lost this round, because he whispers, calls my name - sounds needy. I remember what it sounded like when we were together. I am a victim of my own nostalgia...and fuckin’ FaceTime. Because if a naked Armie Hammer is FaceTiming, and saying your name the way he did...I don’t think anyone could blame me for where we find ourselves in embarrassingly short time.
“Fuck, me too...so close, Armie”
“Come for me, Timmy - come with me...now!”
We are - in every way - such a mess.