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andguesswhat · 6 days

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The shield that you own - 3

The premiere in London didn't go that smoothly. Jack could see that Tim wasn't really happy with his outfit, the trousers apparently weren't comfortable, Tim kept his sunglasses on for a long time, which indicated that he had already taken drugs with Haider in the hotel room, and they all had to wait ages for Zendaya to be dressed in her costume... It was already a long evening before it had even started.

Jack let his gaze wander over the crowds as they waited. A glimpse of the first time he was hired by Tim's team slipped into his memory and he had to smile.

It had been the premiere of “Beautiful Boy”, also here in London, and Tim had jumped uncontrollably from one bulk of fans to another and back again, so randomly that Jack, who had to do the jumping with him, had the feeling that Tim was only doing this to test or annoy him. Jack soon found out that yes, Tim didn’t mind teasing him but his jumpy behavior was more due to his constant need to please everyone and not disappoint anyone; he wanted to be loved by every single person on this planet and beyond that didn't know how to say no. After all, Jack apparently hadn't done too bad a job, they booked him again afterwards.

Over the years, the crowds of fans got bigger and bigger. And even though Jack only saw Tim at promo tours, he could watch how the boy became a star, climbing up the pedestal stair by stair with a big proud grin, stepping further and further into the sky. Jack saw him shine and grow. But Jack also saw him become more and more isolated.

Slowly but surely, the "Hollywood" system took hold. More and more powerful people were tugging at him, talking to him, persuading him for selfish reasons while being surrounded by all this tempting money. In the end it was no wonder you lost your sense of reality and responsibility in this enclosed world. Things were no longer questioned as long as they served the career, and no one told you the truth about anything anymore to make sure you continued to strive for more fame. If Jack was honest to himself, he had to fall in line, even if his reasons weren’t the same. But he didn't judge Tim for getting deep down in Hollywood nor did he confront him with difficult subjects. He didn't ask him uncomfortable questions like why he did or didn't do certain things that Jack himself saw differently or didn't understand. Instead, he made him feel safe, he did everything he could to make him feel good.

For him, this was part of his job. But the boundaries had long since become blurred. With everything they had being going through, with everything they had shared and done by now, weren't they something like friends? And if yes, shouldn't he give Tim every now and then a piece of his mind? But he didn't. He wasn't sure if he did it out of fear of losing his job or out of fear of losing Tim. But whatever the reason, he just didn't. So once again, here in London, he didn't tell Tim what he really thought about Haider. He certainly wasn't looking forward to the reunion with Haider, even if he didn't let on, and he already knew roughly how the evening would go. They would all be cooler than cool, they would all consume a lot of alcohol and no less drugs and they would all have an incredible amount of fun, which, according to Haider, you could only have if you consumed a lot of alcohol and no less drugs. Haider was a creative and interesting person, Jack wouldn't deny that, and he could guess why Tim found him inspiring and was only too happy to be his muse. But this "it's only a real party if you're really high" thing was not only stupid, Jack honestly thought it was kind of outdated, too.

But Tim went along with it. He went along with it because he couldn't say no, he went along with it because he never missed an opportunity to get on brilliantly with anyone who was or could be useful to him and – if you asked Jack – he went along with it because he felt guilty that he wasn't sleeping with Haider, who had shown more than once that he was not averse to the idea. The fact that Tim seemed to be able to say no at least in this matter was the only consolation to Jack.

After the premiere a whole bunch of people went to a club, including Tom with Zendaya and Kaia with Austin and of course Haider as their unsolicited leader.

There had been evenings when Tim had managed to persuade Jack to join in the dancing, but tonight Tim was already far too much in his own tunnel and Jack too annoyed by Haider, so he decided to stand on the edge of the dance floor and just watch. He watched Tim laughing, dancing and vibing with all his friends and yet Jack had the feeling that Tim somehow was alone. Maybe it was the alcohol and the drugs, but the feeling of a contrived joy made Jack’s heart sigh with sadness.

He knew it was silly to blame everything on Haider, Tim was a grown man, but when Haider held a drink under his nose and growled "Come on, Jackie boy. Don't be so stiff. A drink won't do you any harm. You're a big boy, aren't you?", Jack declined politely and made another line on his imaginary blackboard under "don't like him".

Once back at the hotel, Haider tried to convince Tim to party some more in his room and as Tim, quite high and grinning dully, took more than a second to answer, whether because of his condition or because he didn't want to, Jack quickly stepped in for him. "I would say rather not. I think he's pretty tired." Haider gave him a patronizing look, eyebrows high. "Can't he speak for himself?" "I'm tired," Tim luckily consented right then, sparing Jack a reaction to Haider's stupid remark. "The youth of today! Look at you! How old are you? And look at me!” Haider pointed to himself before shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. “How sad that young people can't stand anything anymore.” Luckily Tim didn't say anything in response, just kept smiling tiredly, and Haider finally had to give in.

When he hugged Tim with his whole body to say good night, Jack tensed up, even more so, when Haider gave Tim a wet kiss on the mouth, while slapping Tim's buttocks. All in good fun, of course. Haider’s dirty laugh made Jack sick to his stomach. Jack had seen scenes like this before, he always found them offensive, he always instinctively wanted to intervene, but yes, of course, they were such good friends and it was all just fun. Jack was annoyed as hell. In the elevator, Tim didn't say a thing, seemingly lost in thought and contemplation, but Jack could see that the dull good mood seemed to be slowly fading and a feeling of dissatisfaction spread. When they reached Tim’s door, Jack asked concerned, "Everything okay?" Tim gave a less than convincing "Yeah, sure," and added an indecisive "Do you want to come in?"

Tim’s voice was already alarmingly dismissive but Jack accepted the invitation anyway, or perhaps because of it. He wasn’t sure what would happen and needed to make sure everything was alright.

When they were in the room the first thing Tim did was to take off the inconvenient pants. Impatiently and carelessly he slipped them off his legs, while grumbling to himself: "Fucking pants!", then got rid of his top until he was standing there in nothing but socks, underpants and a way too expensive Cartier necklace. With a mixture of defiance and dissatisfied forlornness he looked at Jack and spread his arms. "Wanna suck my cock?"

Jack bit his lower lip to remain calm before he quietly responded, "I'd better go."

Tim feigned disappointment, muttering half provocatively, half deliberately offending, "Armie would know what to do.... what I need." That had hit.

A dagger thrust into Jack's chest.

The crudeness of it however and his accumulated irritation, made Jack – surprised at himself – hit back with sarcasm. "Should I check with Austin? Maybe he's a better substitute." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he immediately regretted them. Even though Tim had hurt him and the day had been exhausting, it gave him no reason to react like this. He looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath to collect himself again, before he apologized. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that." When he looked up again, bracing himself for further displeasure thrown at him, he was surprised to see tears in Timmy's eyes, and the shield he had just raised was already crumbling again. Tim’s brow furrowed, his lips narrowed, his eyes full of pent-up sadness, he looked like one big heap of misery. "I missed him today. I missed him so much. Tom was there for Z, Kaia for Austin... I want that too." A simple understandable wish.

To have his partner by his side.

It broke Jack's heart and at the same time, it turned the dagger in Jack's chest mercilessly. Once again the bitter realization that he wasn't the one. Yes, they had no commitments, nothing was promised, he was just his bodyguard and they occasionally fucked. By the look on Tim’s face he seemed to realize what he had said and what it meant to Jack. "No, no, I didn’t mean..." he softly tried to take it back somehow, but apparently he could also see in Jack's face that he couldn't. Defeated, Tim slid to the floor in front of the bed and buried his sobbing face in his hands. "I'm such a fucking mess... I'm so sorry... I don't know what I'm doing..." Yes, Tim was a mess. A mess made by Hollywood. Jack had seen Tim cry before, but never this much and as weird as it must look for many, it made his problems less important. His instinctive need to help was pathetic but indestructible.

He squatted down next to Tim in front of the bed and put his arm around him. Tim immediately and gratefully took the invitation, clung to him, clawing his hands desperately into Jack's shirt, burying his face in Jack’s neck, and Jack was doing what he always did, giving him closeness and comfort.

For a while they just sat there like this, Tim’s tears wetting Jack’s shirt. "You know that I didn't sleep with Austin, right?" Tim mumbled eventually against his neck. “There was nothing. I just made that up.” Jack sighed. What a mess. But did it even make a difference? He didn't know.

He held Tim’s slender body, felt the soft warm skin under his hands, smelled his scent, listened to the still heavy breathing from all the crying. There were a thousand reasons not to sleep with Tim at that moment. But for Jack, one reason to do it was enough. Slowly and carefully, he picked Tim up and laid him on the bed and began spoiling him and his shaking body with kisses.

It wasn't as if there weren't any scars in this relationship, and today a new one had been added. In the back of his mind, Jack knew that he should stand up for himself and Tim didn't deserve his unconditional love, but unfortunately, at the moment he just didn't care.

Slowly the unrest turned into calm. Tim grabbed Jack's hair, played with it, looked at him mindfully, watched every move as Jack’s mouth and hands wandered over his body, and they kissed on the lips like they rarely did.

Jack loved that for Tim sex always was an outlet for feelings, a description of his innermost state and today, sex for both of them was a way to redemption.

When the quiet tenderness finally turned to desire and Jack entered Tim, their bodies undulated in waves of lust and craving until Tim's body arched beneath him to the extreme, his head thrown back he moaned deep and liberating as he came. For one last time Jack buried himself into Tim's body with a heavy thrust and poured himself in Tim, a similar deep, redeeming feeling rushing through his veins. There weren't the right words for what they were, but maybe sometimes you just didn't need to look for them. * The next day they had no commitments, it was a day off, and Jack had booked a flight to visit his family in Cornwall. Part of his brain was so romantic that he would have liked Tim to fly with him and he was sure Tim would have been only too happy to agree – he was way too curious with things like that and always keen to recruit new fans for himself –, but the sensible part of Jack's brain vehemently advised him against it and that was for the best. A little distance after last night would certainly do him good. So he went alone, let his mother cook for him from morning till night and let Sarah tell him all the bad things she had read about the quirks of Hollywood stars.

As he lay in his old crib in the evening looking at his cell phone, Tim had sent him a link to a song. Jack clicked on the link and listened to the lyrics.

Please be my shield against all that′s blue Love me and lead and I'll carry through Keep me from danger, don′t leave me too soon Forgive me for all that I am Shadows they whisper, stare at my soul Misled are those who march all alone Keep me from strangers without good intent Forgive me for all that I am You are my fire when I can't see You're the one watching over me You are my fire, yeah You are my fire, on you I lean Promise you, won′t give up on me You are my fire

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