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[abrightboy]

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[abrightboy]

Malcolm leans forward slightly.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for with Jeff and I don’t think you are, either, and I’m concerned that that is where someone is going to get hurt.”

[ployboy]

Oh. Yeah, he'd been way off. Tim stares back, like he's taking another moment to digest the concern. To not take offense to it because it's coming from a place of worry and it's not that Malcolm is considering his shortcomings.

"I have it planned," he repeats. "It's fine."

He wouldn't be doing any of this if there wasn't a plan.

[abrightboy]

“What’s the plan?” Malcolm asks him.

He’s not sure ‘plan’ is the way to approach your crush, but he could be wrong.

[ployboy]

Tim spreads his hands again.

(He forgot they're buried deep in the coat pockets and he's stuck, like a nerd, until he wrangles himself free and tries again. Ta-da.)

"We're gonna watch Titanic."

It's so hard to stay straight faced through the idiocy but Malcolm needs to suffer.

[abrightboy]

“That is a romantic movie,” Malcolm agrees. “What happened to Jurassic Park?” he asks.

[ployboy]

Leo and Kate and boobies and a cautionary tale of the dangers of self-preservation with a side of crusty old lady. What's not to love. Tim gives another airy little laugh, and he figures he's at least averted the anxiety attack for today. "That's the treat. And, uh. Galaxy Quest."

Or like, Napoleon Dynamite.

Or literally anything else he can scour from the bottom of a gas station bargain shelf.

But not Austin Powers, and there's nobody to blame for that decision but Neal. Tim feels giddy. It's really, like, stupid. But whatever. He tugs at the jacket again and shoots Malcolm a meek-shy-worried sort of puppy-dog look and he asks, "You're okay? With me borrowing this?"

[abrightboy]

“I’m not sure that’s going to be the treat,” Malcolm muses rhetorically. Tim’s still planning on having sex, right?

He tugs the lapel to straighten the collar at Tim’s question. “Of course. Do you need anything else?”

[ployboy]

He barks a laugh, a dumb and genuine delight passing through the sheer mortification of "Ohmygod, shut up."

Of, like...

He doesn't know.

He stands still and lets the fussing happen and he doesn't wanna wonder about when the last time was that he connected with a guy this way; it's...

Nice.

That's all.

For all the repulsive things Tim's said and thought he's still... Feeling okay about this, maybe.

Cool.

He clears his throat.

"No, it-- okay. No, thanks. I'm... good."

[abrightboy]

“Good. Have fun.” He stands up. “And if you want to talk about it later, you know where to find me.”