Chapter Text
Looking down at the contents of the manilla folder that’s mixed in with all his other junk mail and bills that had accumulated over the past week while he’d been in the Hamptons with his family for Thanksgiving, Timmy is more than a little confused by what he finds. It has to be a mistake, right? Or the universe playing a cruel joke on him, reminding him of what he almost had before everything got fucked up.
But in any case, he’s left currently staring at an itinerary for the trip to Ireland Armie had booked for them to take the week of Christmas and his birthday. And he has no idea what to make of that.
When Armie had asked him how he wanted to celebrate his 30th birthday, he’d taken the time to consider his options carefully. Armie had volunteered to pay for everything, no limits, and while normally Timmy would feel guilty about that, Armie insisted that he deserved to be spoiled every once in a while, and there was no better occasion than for his 30th birthday. His dirty thirty, as Armie had jokingly called it.
And Timmy had to admit, after the past few years of keeping things lowkey because by the time December rolled around, he was too tired from all the months of filming and promo to do much more than have a few friends over and have a kickass meal, it might be nice to actually plan something big and exciting to celebrate his birthday in style this year. He had a much lighter filming schedule during the last half of the year, and he wouldn’t have to start promo for the movie he’d filmed in the spring until after the new year, so he decided he and Armie should take a trip somewhere.
He’d always wanted to see Ireland, but somehow, even amongst his many travels for movie locations and promotion, he hadn’t managed to make it to the Emerald Isle yet. And when he’d looked up pictures of Ireland at Christmastime, he’d been immediately sold. Armie was fully onboard with the idea, as well, and they spent several days looking over the different parts of the country they wanted to see and drafting an itinerary. While Timmy had been fine with just renting a car and driving themselves, Armie had suggested that they could hire a private chauffer to drive them, that way they could both relax and enjoy the idyllic scenery together without having to navigate maps or foreign road signs. And with that last decision made, Armie arranged everything with one of the Irish tour companies and officially booked their 10 day Irish getaway just for the two of them, plus one chauffer.
That had been back in May, two months before the fight that had abruptly ended their relationship. After more than five years together, one stupid fight had managed to unravel the best thing to ever happen to him. It hadn’t even been that big of a fight, at least by their standards. It just happened to come while they were both in the middle of filming different projects in L.A. and were more stressed than usual.
A misunderstanding about Timmy’s filming schedule on a night he was supposed to have a date night with Armie to reconnect after weeks of just missing each other led to Armie questioning Timmy’s priorities in their relationship. Which then led to Timmy becoming defensive and stubborn, and they both ended up saying some pretty hurtful things in the heat of the moment. There had been a point when he could have fixed things, could have admitted that Armie wasn’t entirely wrong, but that more than anything he wanted to be with Armie and he’d do whatever it took to prove it. But pride can be an ugly thing sometimes, and instead of spending the next several days enjoying endless rounds of makeup sex, he found himself sitting alone in their too-empty house with the taste of bitter tears on his tongue.
After that project had wrapped a couple weeks later, he flew back to New York and allowed himself a proper meltdown. He was still surrounded by Armie’s things, their shared apartment still had traces of Armie in every corner, and it was only after Will insisted he come with him upstate for a few days while the rest of his friends helped clean Armie’s things out of the apartment and ship them back to LA that Timmy could go more than an hour without breaking down in tears.
It had taken him several weeks to regain any sense of normalcy, but eventually the fierce sting of heartbreak gave way to the dull ache of acceptance and he tried to begin the process of moving on. Aside from a single text on Armie’s birthday, to which he received a short but polite reply of thanks, they hadn’t had any contact since the breakup. As autumn rolled around, he spent a few weeks shooting an action comedy movie in Vegas, and by the time he finished that, he felt more like his old self again.
In order to appease his friends, who’d insisted he should get back out on the dating scene, he went on a couple dates in early November. But despite receiving a pretty decent blowjob from one of them, his heart wasn’t in it and he didn’t call either of them back.
Spending time with his family for Thanksgiving had been exactly what he’d needed to recharge and feel like maybe things would be ok again. He’d completely unplugged from the rest of the world, just immersing himself with the people he loved most for a full week and enjoying tons of amazing food, lots of fun times playing games and reconnecting with his past self when his mother inevitably brought out the old photo albums.
He came back to the city feeling rejuvenated and ready to tackle whatever life threw at him next. That is, until he opened his mail and suddenly it felt like someone just poured a bucket of icy water over his head. It seems the ghost of relationships past isn’t quite ready to let him move on after all.
He stares at the packet of paper for what feels like an hour, reading over the details of the trip he and Armie had carefully outlined months prior. He hadn’t thought much about it since they broke up, figuring Armie would have canceled it a long time ago. He wonders if Armie just forgot about it entirely, but that doesn’t seem like something Armie would do.
He smooths his hand over the front page of the itinerary, which is just the basic overview of the trip and their various destinations, along with their accommodations and the tickets for the few attractions they booked ahead of time. Taking a deep breath, he flips to the next page, which begins the more detailed outline of their plans. They had decided to start in Dublin first and see the sights of the city all decked out for the holidays before making their way to the more rural areas of the country.
He only makes it to Day 3 before he can feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids and he shuts the pages of the packet, practically throwing it the few feet from where he was standing to land with a splat on his coffee table. He can’t let himself get caught up in thinking about what could have been, no matter how magical it sounds. He can go to Ireland whenever he wants, it doesn’t need to be on this particular trip, for this particular occasion, or with that particular person.
But still, he knows he needs to talk to Armie. Maybe it isn’t too late for him to cancel and get at least some of his money back. Or if not, he can offer to pay him back for whatever it had cost. The last thing he wants is to feel guilty about Armie wasting all that money on a trip that never happened. Or he supposes Armie could still go, enjoy the beauty and wonder of Ireland at Christmas on his own. But seeing both of their names listed at the top of the packet, reminding him of how he used to love seeing their names written together, like that was the way it should always be, had created an ache low in his gut, the longing for what he knows he could have had. He knows he needs to call Armie and straighten this out, but maybe he isn’t ready quite yet.
He decides to sleep on it, like maybe somehow the large knot of pain and regret would magically dissipate overnight and talking to Armie again after five months wouldn’t make him want to die. It’s the longest they’ve ever gone without communicating since they met. Even before they officially got together romantically, there would still be there frequent texts and Facetime sessions to keep them from ever being too far from each other’s minds.
He’d taken it for granted at the time, figuring it would always be that way between them. But then the day in late September he received the news he got the leading role in Christopher Nolan’s new movie shooting next year, his first thought was to call Armie. He was halfway to pushing “call” on Armie’s number when he realized he couldn’t really do that anymore. He’d spent the rest of that night ignoring all the other calls of congratulations from his friends and family and getting rip-roaring drunk, to the point where Guillian had to come over and make sure he didn’t accidentally die from alcohol poisoning.
Waking up now to the chill of the early December air makes Timmy shiver even under his blanket. He knows it’s not only the cold causing the reaction, but the anticipation of talking to Armie again after so long, not knowing how he’ll react to Timmy’s call, or if he’ll even answer. Or worse, he does answer but then Timmy gets tongue-tied or blurts out something stupid that makes things even more awkward than they already are. He’s never had to censor himself around Armie before, and he’s not even sure if he knows how to do that.
It takes him until late in the afternoon before he finally gathers enough courage to make the call. He’s been obsessively glancing over at his coffee table all day, thinking maybe one time he’d look and the packet would just magically be gone, and he’d be able to chock the whole thing up to a crazy fever dream and forget about it. But when the sun starts sinking behind the building next to him and the chill in the apartment starts to set it again, he knows he needs to just bite the bullet.
He takes out his phone and scrolls to Armie’s name in his contacts. There used to be a time when Armie would constantly be at the top of his “recent call” list, but that hasn’t been the case for a long time. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he spends another ten minutes just staring at his phone before he finally hits the “call” button and prays for the best.
The line rings twice, and just as the third ring is about to start, the call connects and Timmy stops breathing. “I’ve been expecting your call.” The abrupt greeting catches Timmy off guard, but there’s no annoyance in his tone. In fact, it comes across with much more warmth than he’d been expecting, with maybe a hint of tired resignation mixed in as well. He can’t deny how comforting it is to hear Armie’s voice again, despite being a bit startled by his opening statement.
“Uh hi. Umm, yeah.” It takes a minute before Armie’s words actually hit him. “Wait, you have?”
There’s a quiet exhale of breath on the other end, and when Armie speaks again, Timmy can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. “Yeah well, when I saw what was in the mail last week, I had a feeling you’d be wondering what was going on. I assume you received the same thing I did.”
A mix of emotions pass through him in quick succession. He’s already not sure how to process this conversation, and it’s barely just started. But then he remembered that they’d included both their New York and L.A. addresses on the registration form, not knowing exactly where they’d be when things arrived. “Uh yeah, I did. I was pretty surprised, actually. And confused.”
Another breathy chuckle. “Yeah, you and me, both. I had kinda completely forgotten about it until the packet showed up. I had called to explain the situation and they said there was still time to cancel, but…” Armie trails off and Timmy has no idea what to expect at the end of that sentence.
“But what?”
There’s a long pause, and for a minute Timmy thinks the call dropped out. But then there’s a bit of shuffling on the other line before Armie’s voice comes back. “I dunno, I thought…maybe we could still go, like we planned to.”
The words play in a loop in his head for a long minute, but they fail to make any more sense the 67th time than they had the first. “Umm, I’m sorry, what?”
“I just feel like it would be a huge waste if we didn’t go, ya know? We have the whole thing already planned out and I remember how excited you were about it. And I mean, you only turn 30 once, and I want you to have this. I mean, if – if you still want it.” The sudden uncertainty in Armie’s voice makes Timmy’s head spin. He has no idea what to think about any of this, or if he was somehow imagining all of it.
After a long minute, he draws in a slow breath. “Ok wait. I just want to make sure I have this right. You want us to go on the trip you booked for us when we were still together, which was meant as a romantic getaway, even though we broke up and haven’t spoken in months? Is that what you’re proposing?”
There’s only a brief pause before Armie’s answers comes. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Timmy opens his mouth to say something in response to that, but nothing manages to come out. Every time he tries to come up with the words to express how insane this whole idea sounds, he can’t seem to actually speak them. In the end, he can only ask one question. “Why?”
There’s another long pause, but this time he can hear Armie’s bed creaking as he changes position. Mostly likely sitting up from where he’d been lying before. He hates that he still remembers what each of the various creaks of that bed sound like. “Because…I feel like I owe this to you. After the way things ended, I just…look I know it sounds weird and I understand if you don’t want to do it. I just thought it might be nice to go and enjoy ourselves. Give us a chance to catch up, maybe find a way to be friends again. If you think that’s something you want, of course.”
Timmy let’s Armie’s words sink in for several seconds. He wants to be friends again? It’s not like Timmy doesn’t want that, too, he’s just not sure how that will even work. He knows he’s nowhere near over Armie, and he sees about a thousand potential ways that going on this trip could be a total disaster.
And yet, what ends up coming out of his mouth, seemingly without his full control, is, “Ok, yeah.”
He doesn’t even have a chance to take it back or reconsider before Armie’s voice comes back over the line. “Yeah?”
The sudden excitement – and is that maybe the tiniest hint of hope he hears? – in Armie’s response causes a tiny burst of happiness to flare in his chest. And though logically he knows this is probably a terrible idea, he can’t help but hope for a Christmas miracle that maybe it will be ok. “Yeah. We can go. As…friends.”
“Right, friends.”
Timmy’s pretty sure he imagines the subtle air of disappointment as Armie says the word, but he tries not to focus on it. Instead, he focuses all his energy into not throwing up over the fact that he just agreed to spend 10 days on a romantic Christmas vacation with his ex whom he most definitely is still in love with.
Once the decision is made, they discuss logistics of getting there and back. The only flight with seats left Armie can find from L.A. to New York leaves him with almost a 24 hour layover until their joint flight from New York to Dublin. At first, Armie says he’ll just book a room in the airport hotel. But when he says it, something about it strikes Timmy as wrong.
“No, that’s silly. You should just come stay here.” The words are out of his mouth before he can think better of it, or the implications of his offer.
There’s a beat of silence and then, “Are you sure?”
And the truth is, he isn’t sure…about any of this, really. But if they were going to try to get back to being friends, then he should act like it. “Yeah, it’s fine. You um…you still have your key, right?”
He tries not to think about the way he still thinks of it as “his key”, or the way his body floods with warmth when Armie confirms he does indeed still have it. So they agree Armie will crash on Timmy’s couch for one night, and then they will fly to Ireland together from there.
When Timmy hangs up the phone almost an hour later, the sky is nearly dark, and he has absolutely no idea what he’s just gotten himself into. In less than three weeks, he’ll be reunited with Armie after months of being apart, and years of emotional baggage still to sort through. That thought fills him with a thousand emotions and questions. He cycles through them as he eats a quick dinner, barely even tasting the food because he’s so distracted by the very unexpected and potentially complicated situation he now finds himself in. By the time he finally collapses into bed later that night, he hasn’t managed to answer a single one of the burning questions that have been plaguing his mind since he hung up the phone hours ago. And just as he’s closing his eyes in an attempt to force himself to get some sleep, another one suddenly pops into his head: what is he going to wear?