(Author's note: Okay, my OCs are a little out of control, but Jacob came and whispered in my ear, and I had to write this chapter. Sorry. Warnings for sweet D/s, and awwwww. Also, if you haven't read the scene with Kurt topping Adam, it's in the story 1,000,000 Words. Enjoy. -amy)

Ed Westwick as Timmy Puckerman: tinyurl 9l5blyh

Craig Horner as Jacob: tinyurl 9ut3xlp

Jacob felt bad for being thankful for Kurt's ear infection. He'd already begun to anticipate the ridiculous fallout from this trip. Adam in love was kind of too sweet for words, and Adam in charge of Puck was a little weird, even if Jacob did understand what it was like to be a switch. But Adam left alone, without Puck or Kurt, to his own devices, to brood and wonder and wait for February... that was bound to be a handful. Adam was going to shatter on the tile floor, and Jacob wasn't looking forward to picking up the pieces.

But now Kurt was staying for a couple extra days to heal up. Puck would be gone, and Kurt, whatever health problems he was experiencing, had clear Top tendencies. Maybe Adam would finally get what he needed, after all.

Or maybe you're just projecting, Jacob told himself, flexing his hands on the steering wheel and grimacing. Maybe it's been too long since you've had a sub of your own to deal with. He wasn't going to put himself in an awkward position with his employer and suggest maybe he needed a little handling, either. Adam was self-aware enough to figure it out for himself, and to go looking for it.

Jacob's attention was caught by a flicker of movement just outside the van. At first he didn't recognize the figure, seated on the sidewalk, hands wrapped around his legs. He looked younger, somehow, folded up that way, and Jacob caught his breath as Timothy leaned his chin on his knees.

"What are you doing out there?" he muttered to himself, but it sounded disturbingly fond, even to himself. He reached over and knocked on the glass, startling the young man on the sidewalk, and rolled the window down. Timothy didn't move.

"You didn't bring me a sandwich," Jacob called. "What the heck, man?"

Timothy didn't smile, but he did raise his head a little and gaze across the sidewalk at Jacob. "Figured you'd had enough to eat, with Noah's risotto."

"It was good," Jacob agreed. "But that was six hours ago. Aren't you hungry?"

Timothy shrugged and put his chin back on his knees. "I guess."

It was like Timothy had subtitles. Jacob could see the words I'm too depressed to eat without somebody making me do it float across the air in front of him. He looked away, concealing his smile. The comment about the risotto had been accompanied by I'm pissed that my own brother didn't invite me to dinner, and I was forced to eat with the silent piano guy. Well, if Timothy knew Puck had made risotto, he probably knew about Kurt being sick. And since they were leaving tomorrow...

Jacob checked the monitors once more, then opened the door to the van and climbed out onto the street. He walked casually around the front of the van, his shoes clicking on the pavement, and sat down a few feet away from Timothy, leaning on the building in an identical pose.

"Adam says Kurt went to sleep after taking the first dose of antibiotics," he said. "He should be feeling better, but he can't fly until Wednesday."

Timothy nodded. "Noah told me. Finn and Brad will fly back to Lima as planned."

Jacob blinked. "And - you're not going back?"

"Gaga wants me to stick around for a couple months. She's pulling the concepts for the new album together, and I wouldn't want to miss it." He tipped his head on his side, resting his cheek on his knee with a barely audible sigh. "They don't need me in Ohio. Noah and Sarah have their Tatenui."

"Who?"

He smiled, a little bitterly. "Kurt's dad. Burt. Sarah calls him that. Our family's full of little pet names. Sarah's going to call me Timmy until she dies, and Noah..." He stopped talking. Jacob found himself grinning.

"Noah what?"

"Nothing," Timothy said through gritted teeth, and Jacob laughed. "It's hideous. Sarah got away with being called Sissy for most of her childhood."

"Yeah, my brothers called me Jaybird when I was a baby, and later when they were feeling particularly cruel." He shifted closer and nudged Timothy's folded legs, making him protest. "Come on, I'll probably never see you again after tonight. Just tell me."

Jacob watched Timothy's face close up, right there, and he found his smile fading. He wished he could take back the last five seconds. Timothy's silence went on far too long.

"Um," Jacob said, a little desperately.

"Meemee." Timothy flickered an oblique glance at Jacob. "Noah couldn't say Timmy, so he called me Meemee. You know, the sound that Beaker in the Muppets used to make."

Jacob nodded wordlessly. He cleared his throat. "Meemee. That's not so bad. Has a certain cachet."

That made Timothy smile, which made Jacob smile back, relaxing a little. "No, it's just fucking dorky, but I'll own that part of me, too."

It's cute, Jacob wanted to say, but the last thing he wanted Timothy to think was - he shook his head. He wasn't going to complicate things. "Nothing wrong with dorky. Families leave us with all kinds of legacies. I'm forever going to be the boy who dressed up as Wonder Woman for Halloween." He grinned at Timothy's expression. "Hey, I had a really big crush on my babysitter. She had all the Superfriends toys."

"People do funny things for love," said Timothy.

The silence returned, a little more comfortable this time. Now Jacob was close enough to Timothy to reach out and touch him, just a gentle hand on his back. Timothy didn't move away, but he did deflate a little as Jacob's hand rested there. His eyes dropped to the sidewalk square in front of them.

"So where do you stay in LA, when you're here?" Jacob asked.

He shrugged, his nervous tic more pronounced under Jacob's hand. "Wherever I can find."

The subtitles were in bold this time, in flashing red letters: I'm alone, and I won't ask for help. Jacob sighed. He figured it was a good thing he didn't have an apartment at the moment, because as lost puppies went, Timothy was practically whining and licking his hand, and it wouldn't have taken much for Jacob to offer him a place to stay indefinitely.

"Well, I'm sure Adam's couch is open, if you get desperate," Jacob said, trying to keep it light.

Timothy's brow furrowed. Was that an actual pout? "I'll be fine," he said shortly. "Trust me, I know desperate, and I'm not there."

"Yeah, no way, man. You could totally deal with this on your own." Timothy shot a glance at Jacob, but he was keeping his face straight, very carefully not being snide in any way. Timothy hesitated.

"I - could go get you a sandwich, if you want."

Jacob moved his hand from Timothy's back to his arm. "No," he said gently. "I don't need a sandwich. It's just good to see you."

He nodded, looking down. Then he seemed to steel himself, and he looked back up, meeting Jacob's eyes. There was nothing simple in them. "You really think we're never going to see one another again after tonight?"

"I - don't know," Jacob said slowly. He let his hand slip to the sidewalk. "I thought you'd be going back to Lima. No reason we would. Is there?"

"Is there?" Timothy echoed. He closed his eyes. "Probably not. Forget I said anything."

"Hey." Jacob couldn't keep a little of the Voice from rearing its head, and Timothy flinched away. "This isn't a pity party. You can do anything you want. Anyway, sounds like you'll be in town for a while longer. You know where to find me, and -"

"Noah's going home," Timothy interrupted, sounding a little - well, if not desperate, then anxious at least. Jacob nodded. "He's... Adam's staying here. They won't be together."

"Yeah," Jacob agreed. "Adam has work to do. Noah has school. I think Adam's flying out to visit them in February, though." He'd actually booked the ticket for Adam, so he knew exactly what day it would be, but he didn't think Timothy needed to know that. "What's the problem? I thought you didn't think Adam was good for him."

Timothy shook his head slowly. "I didn't think that. I thought Adam was hurting him. I'm still not sure he's not. But... Jacob?"

Jacob felt an unexpected rush of pleasure at hearing his name come out of Timothy's mouth. He had to swallow twice to get enough saliva in his mouth to be able to respond. "Yeah?"

He hesitated, then said in a rush, "I think Noah being away from him is worse. A - a lot worse."

"Oh," said Jacob. "Well. He's got Kurt. And Finn. They made up, you know."

Timothy looked startled. "No. Really? He and Finn - really?" His foot started tapping in rhythm. "That's good news."

"Yeah. Adam's not the only one who can give Noah what he needs."

This idea didn't seem to calm Timothy down; instead, it just made him more agitated. He crossed his legs underneath himself and sat on his hands. Jacob thought he might have to do something similar in a minute. He looked hard at himself, trying to be objective, trying to sort out his reactions and his motivations... but in the end decided it probably didn't matter all that much.

"Timothy?" he said. Timothy looked at him, blinking. Jacob wondered if he might be experiencing the same feeling of pleasure, at hearing Jacob say his name out loud. "I want to keep talking to you, but technically, I'm on duty. So -"

"Hey, of course," Timothy said quickly. "You should go back to that."

"Let me finish, okay? I said technically. Adam told me it was fine for us to talk when I was working, as long as... uh. But Adam's asleep, or as good as, and I can lock up any time and get to bed myself. If you can wait a minute, I'll take care of that, and we can..." Jacob made a motion between the two of them, trying to encompass their whole weird conversation. Timothy swiveled his gaze to the hand making the gesture, his eyes getting wider by the moment.

Jacob sighed. He gave up trying to avoid touching him, or being subtle, or anything at all, and just grabbed Timothy's arm. Timothy sucked in a breath.

"I don't know exactly what's going on with you, man," Jacob said, his voice low, "but I'm thinking it shouldn't happen on the sidewalk. Get in the back of the van."

Timothy scrambled to his feet, tensing, and James stood with him. He withheld the please, because even though it would have been more polite, he didn't think Timothy needed polite just then. For a moment, James thought Timothy might take off. Then he hung his head and went toward the van, without another word.

Jacob ran around and opened the back of the van from the inside, holding out a hand to help Timothy climb in. "Help yourself, if you're hungry," he said, indicating the cooler, and nudged the mattress with his toe as he pulled the back door shut. "And have a seat."

Then he moved into the front and checked the monitors, trying not to let his heart race away from him. He picked up the two-way radio receiver and called for Adam, but there was no response, so he sent a text. Signing off a little early, boss. Everything's all clear. I've got Timothy here.

He didn't expect an answer, but he got one, anyway. We won't be going anywhere tonight, unless Kurt gets worse. You okay in the van? We might sleep out in the family room if Kurt needs his own space.

I think we'll be okay. He hesitated, then added, Something's happening. I don't know what.

I know, J-Baby. Don't freak out, and be yourself. That's all that matters.

Jacob glanced at Timothy in the rear view mirror as he locked the door to the van. Be myself, he thought. Suddenly being himself seemed a lot less clear-cut than it had in the past.

Timothy was flipping through Jacob's dog-eared copy of The Dark Knight Returns when Jacob climbed back through and seated himself on the mattress across from him. He looked a little calmer.

"This..." Timothy indicated the interior of the van, stacked with radios, cameras, digital recorders, monitors and speakers of all kinds. "It's kind of awesome."

"Yeah," Jacob agreed, grinning. "I think Adam wanted to paint the thing like the Mystery Machine, but that would have made it a lot harder to use it for surveillance."

That was the end of their easy conversation, and as their smiles faded awkwardly, Jacob reached forward and put a hand on his knee. Timothy watched the hand.

"Might not want to do that," he whispered.

"Why not?" Jacob asked.

"Because I don't have anything to lose. Makes me do stupid stuff. Stuff you might not like."

He looked so scared. Jacob didn't know if touching him more would make things better or worse, but he had to trust his own instincts, and they were screaming at him, hold him, dammit, he's got to know he's not alone. He moved into the space beside him, whispering, "Come on, man, just let me -" and put his arms around Timothy.

He felt Timothy's body shaking before he heard him, and he didn't realize what he was saying until long moments later. Then he made sense of the words, and listened to him mumbling, "No, I can't, I can't, don't make me, please, I can't..."

"You don't have to do anything," he soothed, touching his hair, and took a deep breath, feeling a little drunk on his cologne. Whatever the hell that is, I've got to find out, and no matter how much it costs, I'm buying it, because... damn.

Timothy let out a sound, a cross between a sob and a laugh, and it was so bitter, it broke Jacob's heart. "I will, though. Do something."

"It's okay." Jacob carefully reached out and retrieved Timothy's hands from around his shoulders, folding them into Timothy's chest, then wrapping him back up, Timothy's head snugly under his chin. "You can't hurt me."

The position was keeping him calm, and Jacob held him a little tighter. Timothy sighed. "I'm not worried about hurting you."

"That's good. You can't do anything wrong. I'm not asking for anything here. You're safe."

"God," Timothy whimpered, ducking his chin lower and curling into a ball. "I have no idea what that feels like."

He stroked his head, not trying to get him to open up, but letting him be where he was. "This. This is safe. It's just for you."

Timothy's shaking subsided before his tears did, but eventually those stopped, too. Still, Jacob didn't let him go. Finally Timothy raised wet, perplexed eyes to Jacob's, just inches away from his face. Jacob tried to keep his breathing even.

"Why?" he asked, completely baffled.

"Why what?" Jacob murmured.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

He grinned. "Honestly? I have no fucking clue. I can give you some guesses, though. All my experience is telling me to get closer, hold you tighter, tight as I can, because... you don't trust anybody, and it sucks. You deserve to know that it's okay to let somebody take care of you. Because you clearly need it, so much." Jacob hugged him again, letting the sensation of Timothy's body pressing into his settle him. "Because I need it, too. And, god, you smell good."

Timothy's surprised laugh made Jacob flush, but he didn't let go. "Really?" He sounded so curious and pleased that Jacob had to laugh too.

"Yeah. I've been trying not to be too obvious about it. 'Cause, well." The word straight stuck in his throat, because even though it had never been sexual between him and his own Top, he hadn't ever, ever had this kind of response to being this close to a guy.

But Timothy was nodding, pulling away, wiping his eyes on the back of one hand. "It-it's okay. I know, you told me. I don't expect... anything."

"Hey." Timothy cringed at Jacob's soft tone. "Where are you going?"

Timothy looked at Jacob, then away again. "I'm not going to take advantage of you."

"You're not. I told you, I need it too. So... come here."

"You're asking a lot of my self control here, man," Timothy insisted. "Like I said, I do stupid stuff."

Jacob knew better than to listen to excuses like those. He settled in against Timothy's leg, tugging and maneuvering him over mild complaints, until Timothy was resting his head on Jacob's shoulder, tucked under his arm. "Don't worry," he said complacently. "I won't let you."

"Fuck, Jacob," said Timothy, squirming a little. "You talk about how I smell good, and then you stick me in your fucking armpit."

"Huh?" Jacob hitched Timothy a little closer, trying not to think too hard about the firm pressure he felt against his leg, or Timothy's hand resting on his chest. "Don't tell me you think I smell good. I haven't showered since last night."

"You don't know gay men very well if you're asking me that question." But Jacob noticed he wasn't pulling away anymore, and he was even relaxing a little.

"Guys like the way other guys smell?" He sniffed Timothy's hair, then behind his ear, then snuffled playfully in his neck, making Timothy snort with laughter. "Hey, you're an exception. Adam doesn't smell anything like you do."

"Yeah, but you probably shouldn't want to sleep with your boss." Timothy paused, shaking his head. "Not - that I'm implying you want to sleep with me."

Jacob cleared his throat. "Okay, I admit I've never seriously considered sleeping with any guys before. I haven't even had sex with that many girls, but they're definitely more my style."

He realized he was stroking Timothy's back lightly with one hand, and stopped himself. Then he didn't know where to put his hand, and after trying a couple different awkward spots - no, he was not going to put his hand on Timothy's ass - he returned it to his back.

"Whereas I don't think I could count the number of guys I've been with," Timothy said quietly. He rolled his head back against Jacob's shoulder. "Yet another thing to feel guilty about."

Jacob stared at his ear. "Well," he said, hearing his own voice come out a little hoarse, "I have lots of tools to help you deal with that."

Timothy tipped his head up to look at Jacob, his brow furrowed. "You can't be serious. You really want to deal with... this?"

God help me, I think I do. He smiled, trying to remain calm. "You're feeling better, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Timothy agreed, after a moment. "I don't think I'm in any better position not to make a stupid move, though. I mean, look at me, I'm practically humping your leg."

Jacob gazed at Timothy's brown eyes, the sharp planes of his face, his lips twisted into a wry grimace. He listened once again to his own rational brain, the one that had was insisting you're straight, you idiot - and then to his own body's response to Timothy's proximity, his ridiculous scent, his neediness. He gave himself a little mental shake. Do, or do not. There is no try.

"Well," he said. He pressed his nose into Timothy's neck one more time, and felt him shudder. "Maybe I'd better be the one to make a move, then, huh?"

"You - what?" Timothy's voice was little more than breath, but Jacob stopped any further words with a kiss.

It had been a while since Jacob had kissed anybody, but he didn't remember any of his myriad partners being quite so enthusiastic about it as Timothy was... or, he had to admit through his adrenaline-fueled haze, so skilled. Or loud. After a few minutes of nearly horizontal making out, Timothy was on top of him, grinding shamelessly against his hip and making very appealing whimpering noises. Jacob was having trouble hanging on to the dominant position he'd established.

"Okay," he gasped, pulling away far enough to the side to raise himself up on one elbow, "okay, you're really fucking good at that."

Timothy, lips kiss-bruised and flushed, was even more appealing than he had been before they'd ended up on the floor of the van. He seemed willing to take a break, though, running a hand over Jacob's chest through his t-shirt. "I'm really good at a lot of things."

It was the tone of voice that did it. Jacob heard the shift as Timothy went from being the lonely, fragile boy he'd come to know, to the experienced sex worker, seductive and entirely ready to turn off his own needs to make his john come any way he wanted. It could have been hot, he supposed, but not to Jacob; it just made him sad.

"Hey," he said, kissing him gently. "You don't have to do that with me. I told you, I'm not looking for anything here."

"Yeah?" Timothy wasn't giving up. He slid his hand under Jacob's shirt, tracing a line down the center of his body, pausing only briefly at his bare navel before grinding a palm against Jacob's admittedly hard cock. "Maybe I am. Maybe I want you to fuck me, right here."

Jacob didn't hesitate. He reached up from his place on the floor, getting as much leverage as he could, and brought his hand down hard on Timothy's ass. Timothy froze, staring down at Jacob, jerking back a little.

"I won't have you disrespecting your own body like that," Jacob said firmly. "No matter who you're thinking of having sex with, me or anybody else, you're worth more than that. Got it?"

"Okay," Timothy whispered. He wasn't looking at Jacob anymore, though, and Jacob wasn't having that either. He reached up and took Timothy's face in one hand, bringing him back around, kissing him again.

"Nobody's fucking anybody," Jacob said, meeting Timothy's eyes, so full of pain and conflict. "You and me, we're going to lie down here and go to sleep in a minute. You're going to let me hold you, and in the morning, we're both still going to be here. And everything's going to be fine between us. Understood?"

Timothy looked more uncertain, but he nodded. "Sorry," he muttered.

Jacob smiled, trying to stay as relaxed as possible. Under the circumstances, it wasn't easy, but as usually happened when he was Topping somebody, his own fears were easier to handle when his sub needed something. Right now, Timothy definitely needed something - and it wasn't sex.

Not only sex, anyway, he thought, feeling another dizzying wave of lust wash over him as he drew Timothy's body down on top of his. He put one hand on Timothy's head, holding it to his chest, and the other on the small of his back, and felt the tension begin to ease.

"Don't get me wrong," Jacob said after a little while. He felt daring enough to give a little thrust with his hips, nudging against Timothy's thigh, and heard him respond with a strangled groan. "Whatever the hell is happening here, you're definitely turning me on... but it's not because you're so great in bed or anything like that. I have no idea if I even want that."

"No. I said, I get it." Timothy sounded defeated.

"I don't think you do, actually. I don't know if I do."

He shook his head. "Hey, you're not the first straight guy I've made out with. It never turns out well."

Jacob sighed. "You really believe I'm some clueless asshole trying to get my rocks off? I'm not drunk, I'm not desperate, and I'm not taking advantage of you. Now are you going to trust me here, or what?"

His answer was nearly inaudible. "Yeah."

"Good. That's what I want to hear." Jacob hesitated, but then decided he'd get ready for bed as usual, because if his goal was to get Timothy to sleep, there was no sense in being uncomfortable himself. He sat up, digging two clean t-shirts out of the plastic tote at the foot of the mattress, and handed one to Timothy. "Here. This should fit you. It's fine if you'd rather sleep without one, but it gets a little chilly out here at night."

He deliberately didn't look away while Timothy was unbuttoning his shirt, and when he stood to unzip his pants, Jacob put a hand on his leg to steady him. "Careful, there."

"Thanks," he said. He gave Jacob a small smile.

In his boxers and Jacob's Queen t-shirt, Timothy looked even more helpless. Jacob shook his head, grinning up at him, and took his hand. "Come on. I was tired a half hour ago."

There was no word for it other than snuggling, Jacob decided, as Timothy lay down in the crook of his body. Jacob laced his legs through Timothy's, spooning him, drawing him closer with his arm over his chest. The monitor on standby made a slight hum, but even over that, Jacob could hear the erratic rhythm of Timothy's breathing.

"You just tell me if you need anything," Jacob said into his ear. "A drink, or someone to listen, or - anything."

"You've already given me plenty," Timothy replied. He turned his head back toward Jacob's. He looked like he could cry again at any moment. "I can't... I don't think I -"

"Yeah, you can," Jacob said. He kissed Timothy's ear. "You're giving me just what I need. Close your eyes and go to sleep."

Even the glaring lights from the parking lot lamps weren't going to keep Jacob awake tonight, but he stayed alert until Timothy's breathing lengthened, his eyes closed and he didn't respond any longer to gentle prompts. Only then did Jacob close his own eyes and give in to his urge to smell the nape of Timothy's neck for several long indulgent minutes before he fell asleep.

Jacob turned off his alarm, tucking his arm back under the blanket as Timothy began to awaken. He gave him enough room to escape from his arms if Timothy decided he needed to, but he didn't particularly want to let go, and Timothy seemed willing to let himself be held.

"Hey," Jacob said softly. Timothy's eyes blinked open, and he squinted at Jacob.

"What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty. Late or early?" Jacob thought this was a little remarkable a question to ask of a person with whom he'd just spent the night. There was a lot he didn't know about Timothy. But there was acceptance there, and trust. And... attraction. Rather a lot of that.

"Early," Timothy said, grimacing. He stretched, Jacob carefully moving out of the way of his limbs.

"I don't have to work just yet. You can stay as long as you want. Eventually, I'm going to climb into the front of the van and check the monitors to see if Adam and the boys are still breathing in there." He put a hand on Timothy's chest. "Right now, though, I think... I want to stay right here."

Timothy gazed up at him. "Anything in particular catching your notice?"

"Yeah," Jacob said, his voice a little rough. "I'm feeling a little... well, what I told you last night. It's still true. I'm not sure what I'm ready for. I don't move fast under any circumstances, anyway." He licked his lips. "But..."

"But?" Timothy repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Jacob took a deep breath, then threw a leg over Timothy, straddling him. The startled noise Timothy made gave him a ridiculous thrill. He leaned in, wrapping his arms around Timothy's slender back, and thrust against him, driving him into the mattress.

"I'm pretty sure I've been feeling you hard against me all night," Jacob said, gazing down at him, "and it's been giving me really... specific... ideas. I can't say this isn't about sex anymore, Timothy. I'm just a little at a loss about what to do about it."

"Oh," Timothy groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. "God. Uh... so you're not freaking out, here?"

Jacob gave him another thrust, grinning at Timothy's gasp. "Nope."

Timothy's hand slipped between them, down his stomach, and gripped Jacob's cock through his boxers. "So, if I... did something like this... it'd be all right with you?"

"I can't promise I won't freak out later," he admitted, but he let Timothy help him out of his boxers. "You still smell great, though, and that's helping a lot. And... the fact that you didn't try to run, this morning."

"No," Timothy agreed. He licked his hand, wrapping it around Jacob's cock and setting up a slow, steady rhythm. Jacob would have closed his eyes if the hungry look on Timothy's face hadn't been so compelling. "You told me... I could trust you."

Jacob moaned. "Yeah. You can - and... fuck, Timothy, just kiss me, okay?"

It wasn't going to take much of this before he would be coming, but he was just too far away from Timothy, he needed more skin contact. Jacob tore off his shirt and dove back into Timothy's talented mouth - he felt like he could kiss him for hours, really, he'd never had anything like that before, with anyone - and lost himself in the sensation of their chests together, of Timothy's hand stroking him, of his low, impatient grunts. He found himself groping between Timothy's legs to reciprocate, and cried out as Timothy's slick hand batted his questing fingers aside, encircling them both.

"Sorry, man, you're just turning me on way too much for me to wait," Timothy said between breathless kisses. "I've wanted this - wanted you since that first day... that smile, your goddamn hands - "

Jacob let himself enjoy those remarkable ideas as his climax rolled over him, a wave of sensation accompanied by the dazed thought: me? But I'm really kind of ordinary. Instead of ruining the moment, he just kissed Timothy again, and this time when his hand clutched at Timothy's ass, he didn't stop himself. Timothy thrust into his own hand one final time, and came onto his stomach, moaning Jacob's name.

"Fuck," he murmured again, holding on, clutching Timothy's sticky, shaking body to his. He waited for the freak-out for a few minutes, but eventually had to conclude that he actually didn't want to let go. He ducked his head, finding Timothy's lips, and kissed him. "That was intense."

"Been... a long time," Timothy agreed, panting. He dropped his head to Jacob's pillow, staring up at the ceiling. "Kenzo Homme Woody."

Jacob stared down at him, blinking. "Uh... what?"

"My cologne. You said you liked it."

Oh. He held Timothy tight against him again, feeling the rightness of it, the comfort he took in knowing Timothy was safe, and cared for. His heart gave a little jump. "Somehow I doubt it's your cologne. I mean, I'm sure it smells fine, but... I'm pretty sure it's just you."

Timothy clutched at Jacob's shirt. "Wow, that's... um... that's..." He gave a shuddering sigh. "God, Jacob. I don't think I have any right, but... I think I'm going to freak out now."

"It's okay," said Jacob, stroking his hair. "You take all the time you need to do that. I'll be right here."