Archive of Our Own

Well, just his luck that the most entitled man he ever had to argue over a fender-bender with happened to be his roommate. He just arrived at the tiny room himself and started unpacking, ready to actually get out and explore his new campus, when the guy he crashed into in the parking lot joined him. Apparently, his newly acquired roommate.

Tim immediately turned around and continued to shelf his law books into the tiny crevice above his bed, ignoring the new guy. Yeah, just what he needed right now. If his shelfing was a little bit louder and a little bit more pissed off now, no one could blame him.

“Okay, look, what if I apologize, okay? You’re absolutely right, it was my fault. I’m sorry, really, okay? No hard feelings,” came the voice of the guy behind him.

He sounded more pissed off than apologetic, which just made Tim angrier. So, the guy knew he was wrong from the get go but still had to fight him in front of the entire freshmen class and probably a good chunk of the upperclassmen? And hell, what if faculty members were around as well? You didn’t want to be seen as the guy who can’t keep his cool, especially not at an institution where various rumors about bad behavior could easily find themselves back not just to the people on campus, but to Washington as well.

Tim didn’t even try to hold back now, especially in private, knowing he had to spend at least some time with this prick. Show he wasn’t here just to be pushed around by random assholes in red convertibles.

“Why did you get into a fight if it was your fault?” he said sternly, turning around quickly to face his new, and now sadly unavoidable, roommate.

At the time he didn’t realize how much this question would predict the rest of their life’s.

“First impressions. They’re very important,” he said with an almost impossible nonchalance.

He continued, a little more paranoid, clearly trying not to face Tim, “What am I going to slink out of my car and say ‘here I am, folks. Say hi to a total asshole!’ No. I create a little bit of unreasonable doubt as to whose fault it was.”

He finished out his statement like a fucking diplomate arguing his biased case, not bothering to hide his deception. Here was where he should’ve probably stopped responding. Go on a silent treatment and he would’ve lived the rest of his law school days, and the rest of his life probably, in peace. Sure, maybe a slightly icy relationship with the guy he was sharing a room with for the next three years, but he would’ve survived.

Instead, he responded. Lashed out more.

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” he asked indignantly.

“Listen…” the guy continued, but at this point Tim was beyond taking anything he had to say seriously. Anything he was saying was an excuse and Tim was done. Well, in that moment at least.

“I think you got it backwards, pal. First you go to law school, then you turn into a sleazebag with no regard for the truth,” and he meant every word.

And every word was truer than he could’ve imagined. Law school certainly wasn’t the reason this man was who he was. And his response proved just that. Just like it set Tim on fire like nothing ever did before. He wished this fire was a purely negative one, but he never knew how to deny the truth. Between the two, he certainly was not the expert on that.

“I’ve met guys like you before,” the frustrating answer came so casually, asking for a casual response.

“Yeah?” because two could play this game.

“Yeah,” he responded, clearly not bothered by the increasingly hostile tone this conversation was taking.

“You got that face. Got that smile,” just now Tim was realizing how close their faces were to one another. “Got that Corduroy suit that comes with elbow patches. You got one of those suits?” he ended his taunt without breaking eye contact.

He wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but this was the first time Tim truly wanted to press his lips against the man in front of him. Especially, because neither one of them seemed to be intent on trying to break eye contact despite numerous opportunities. It felt like an informal invitation. An agreement without a paper trail. Completely deniable. He spared a quick thought to hate and love, and thin lines.

As aggravating and dismissive as this man was, he was also stunning. Tim himself wasn’t bad looking, he knew that, but this man was classically handsome with all the stylings of an old school movie star.

And also smart and clearly here to pursue a goal, a trait certainly worthy to be admired. And also, completely right about Tim and the type of person he was. No use hiding it. Tim walked over to his quasi closet and pulled out the exact suit jacket the guy was describing.

“So what?”

This seemed to earn him trust that he was not expecting. Or at least a quick smile, followed by a sleigh, “Just curious”.

And this was the start of it. The first time he got approval from this man and he was addicted from the get go. Tim will probably never know for sure why it worked so well on him. Maybe it was how casual he was about it. How casual he was about basically everything he did. Like every choice he made was just the obvious thing to do. No self-doubt, no fretting. This is just how it goes. This assuredness made any and all praise and positive reinforcement from him as obvious in Tim’s mind as it could be. Which meant even this tiny comment said with a smirk could elevate the mood enough for Tim to extend an olive branch to his new acquaintance.

They would probably need to get used to each other at least a little bit if they truly planned to share the space, even just to sleep in it. Might as well get the ordinary out of the way and hopefully move on to a slightly less tense connection.

“I’m Tim, by the way.”

Keeping it as casual as possible seemed to be the best option right now.

This earned him a curious look, though it wasn’t hostile. More surprised that Tim would even bother giving his name to someone like him. He looked almost sheepish for a second, a look that didn’t suit him, in Tim’s opinion. This man should not look unsure, it wasn’t who he was. Even then, Tim could understand this little fact about the man before him.

This probably marked the second time he wanted to kiss him. He was on the fast track apparently, but decided to push the thought and its implications to the side. Just before the guy could get his bearings and respond, Tim heard his own name being shouted through the seemingly very thin walls of his new room.

His roommate’s real redemption came as quickly as it came unpredictably.

Tim was confronted with surprising banter from some acquaintances he met at one of his parent’s numerous social events. More specifically, it came from Doug Stubblefield. Doug Stubblefield was utterly unremarkable. It must be unfortunate when the most interesting thing about you is just how incredibly dull and full of yourself you are. But that’s Doug.

Tim never really liked him that much, but playing nice with snotty assholes was always part of the game of law and politics and having been raised in that world did make it quite easy for him. Also, the fact that most of these types of guys did not act that differently from the frat guys he had to handle during pre-law. That certainly made it easier to anticipate the type of men he would meet at Virginia Law. After all, half of them probably had been frat boys not even a few months ago. So yeah, the conversation came easily to him, if a little nervous. Joke around, play the game, say things you will later hate yourself for in private. Because here, status really started to matter. Here, you never knew if the guy you just cut in line in front of might’ve been the son of the senator you wanted to intern for.

So, caution and playing nice were mandatory, even if Tim’s ambitions didn’t require public favor, it was still good to have an adequate standing. Especially, if he’ll probably have to persecute some of these guys going into politics one day. And if he’s honest, persecuting Stubblefield did sound like fun.

Therefore, as fake as it was, the conversation flowed easily. At least until they obviously had to mention his little accident in the parking lot, even if they didn’t know it was him. He immediately felt like fessing up, even knowing the consequences. Obscuring facts was not his strong suit. When confronted with his tumultuous arrival, even unknowingly, it almost made him want to curse the nuisance turned temporary roommate. But well, he actually saved him.

“Yeah, a guy got what was coming to him and he will live in shame forever,” he said, clearly knowing none of these guys would understand the full scope of what he was saying.

But Tim would. And of course, the guy was aware of it, but it didn’t dim Tim’s new gained perspective of him. A man willing to concede if necessary. Though he seemed to plan that that would rarely be the case.

Ultimately, Tim understood what he meant and so he introduced him without a fuss, trying to spare him further embarrassment. Especially, with how dismiss Doug seemed to be, when it came to his roommate. Like he wasn’t worth paying attention to, if he wasn’t already encountered at a fancy dinner party or an appropriately tame gathering. So, Tim tried to invite him into the conversation anyway. Except, he didn’t know his name. Just when he felt like he had to admit another embarrassment by not even knowing his roommates name and slink back into his feeling of shame, which quickly seemed to be his status quo here at UVA, his roommate chimed in.

“Peter Burton.”

But even this clear and deliberate introduction did not deter their exclusionary conduct and Tim was the only one explicitly invited to the kick-off party. Tim turned to Peter, while his acquaintances walked off. Now, nothing but curiosity about this man on his mind. Forgotten was the anger from their first encounter and the equally unpleasant follow up. Instead, all he wanted was to get to know him better for some strange reason. Call it intrigue.

“If you want, I can go to the dean of housing, see about changing rooms. I’d understand, no hard feelings,” he said, still leaning against the door frame and casually holding a baseball in his hand.

For a second Tim wondered if it was significant or just a way for Peter to appear casual. This is where Tim made his decision between popularity and what he knew was the right thing to do. And his decision would’ve haunted him either way. But ultimately, the underdog would always win for him. So, a truce it was.

“I got a color TV, a subscription to Time and National Geographic,” Tim said.

Catching on, Peter replied with ease, “Three credit cards and a guy at Hialeah who phones me sure things.”

“I’m Tim Garrity,” he said, stretching out his hand.

“Peter Burton,” the response came, along with a handshake.

And just like that, a real introduction was made. A bond was formed, which was above such meaningless things as bad starts and social standings. Nothing quick and temporary, but the beginning of a real relationship and they both knew it. How it would end… well, Tim was sure neither of them could’ve guessed in that moment.

“I’m going to get some of Stubblefield’s beer, you want to go?” he asked with all the sincerity he could muster.

He truly wanted him to come too. As much as they fought so far, Peter at least wasn’t boring in the way Stubblefield often proved to be. No, if he knew one thing about Peter Burton so far, it was that he seemed to be one of the most interesting people he had met in his career path so far. It seemed lawyers, or at least people on their way to becoming lawyers, fluctuated between being incredibly boring to cutthroat beyond the ability to establish any positive connection. But Peter was daring and charming, if a little callous. But no, definitely not dull.

“No, I don’t want to butt in,” he turned into their room. Sheepish again and now Tim was sure he didn’t like that look on him. Now that he knew that Peter was grand when he smooth talked people who were complete strangers to him, not when he slinked off like he didn’t belong.

“Come on, come on, come on. He’s a jerk alright?” Tim said, jokingly, though he knew it was true. “So, consider it punishment. Come on,” because having to tolerate Stubblefield was truly a punishment in Tim’s book and having someone else with him was certainly an approvement, no matter how it would go.

They walked to the bar together, exchanging some basic facts about themselves. Where they came from; though Peter’s answer was pretty vague. All over, whatever that meant. But they both studied pre-law, though at different colleges, but it still invoked solidarity. And further questions were explored. Why they wanted to study law; Peter wanted to be a Senator, Tim certainly knew a thing or two about those and readily informed him about who his girlfriend’s father was. Peter seemed thrilled, asking many questions, but without seeming invasive or obsessed, more curious about how much Tim was already familiar with the game of politics. He was completely charming about it.

Tim quickly learned that being humble about his affluent status was not needed at institutions where most had to pay an exuberant amount of money to attend. Most people here were rich and if they weren’t they dodged talking about it, until they were, or well, hopefully would be. So, he openly admitted to knowing many Senators due to his parents’ connections and various party events he attended throughout his youth.

At one of which he met Diana. Diana was wonderful and she had her own driven goals, while also being resolute enough to even disagree with her own father, when she thought he was in the wrong. Ultimately, Diana had a backbone and that, paired with her looks, Tim couldn’t deny it, were some of the reasons he was instantly smitten with her. But most of all, she saw right through him. She was able to read him like a book and something about that made her so incredibly wondrous to him. She just knew his type. And she must’ve really seen something in him, considering she gave him a chance in the first place.

But Tim didn’t tell Peter all of that. Instead, he stuck to talking about the parties and mentioned Diana only in passing.

“The parties are all pretty lackluster, but the booze is good and you can’t deny network opportunities, if you care about that sort of thing. I actually met Diana at her dad’s election party. And I mean, she’s pretty great, been going steady for the past year. We’ll see how much longer she’ll put up with me though,” he ended with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

Peter laughed too and an exhilarating little thrill shot through Tim. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to diverge too much attention to his relationship status when talking to Peter. It just didn’t seem important in the moment. But polite conversation did require a back and forth and so he asked Peter about his relationship status. To be polite, that was all.

“Are you, you know… do you have a girl?” he said, without taking his eyes off Pete.

“Nah, not right now. I mean, I go out with girls here and there, but nothing serious. But you never know what could happen. Hey, maybe you can introduce me to someone at one of those parties one day. Find my own Senator’s daughter to date,” he joked, “And then one day she will be a Senator’s wife as well.”

And there it was again, that unbelievable self-assuredness. Like it was only a matter of time until Peter would get his way. They stuck to talking about potential parties one might throw in the future and all the things they one day would be celebrating, until they started arguing about historical supreme court cases and their outcomes. Despite being so confident in his political ambitions, Peter did seem to care and know law well enough. But, despite riveting debates about United States v. Nixon, and once they were at the bar, nothing else mattered but getting drunk. While obviously ignoring Stubblefield and his shallow friends.

And ultimately, neither could shake how their time together benefitted them. Instead of becoming merely two people forced into close proximity in the evening and night, they became friends. They studied, ate, went out, and just hung out in their room together.

They were both from affluent families, though apparently not travelling in the same circles, Peter’s family spending more time in Europe. They both knew what law school was all about, even if Peter sometimes needed to refresh some key factors. Like being quizzed on the reasons for certain court decisions… on the way to the exam. But more than that, they got each other. Beyond the studying together, just sharing a room, did truly facilitate their friendship. Tim was soon confident in calling Peter his best friend.

“I’m just saying, Legal Ethics is a waste of time and I’m pretty sure Prof. Walters is purposefully failing at least 30% as a baseline,” Peter was retaking the exam later that the week, so Tim helped him study. “Anyway, most of this theoretical stuff doesn’t even apply when you’re actually voting on laws.”

“Okay, first of all not everyone here is on their way to Congress, thank you very much. Next, you do need at least a baseline before you can make those judgements. I mean… Imagine, you vote for a new housing bill, thinking it didn’t matter anyway and the next day some little grandmother knocks on your door because she lost her house because of it. How’d you feel then?”

“I don’t know, did she vote for me?” he laughed and Tim frowned. “Yeah, I know it matters to you Mr. Justice, but you’re not the one who failed anyway, so just quiz me, come on.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” and he continued to quiz him. Maybe Pete was a lost cause after all, Tim thought, mostly in jest.

During one visit to a bar, deep into the night, they established a slogan to adhere to together: “We may not always get what we want, we may not always get what we need, just so’s we don’t get what we deserve,” they giggle their thoughts together, before dumping shots over each other.

Tim wished he could recall how often he wanted to kiss Peter Burton, but by the events of this evening he had already lost count. It was impossible for him to deny his feelings at this point. It might have not been more than lust, but definitely not anything less. He should’ve probably thrown any notion about a purely platonic relationship with Peter out the window the moment they met.

But just in this moment, in between hoping none of the alcohol pouring over his head would reach his eyes and giggling with his closest friend, he wanted nothing more than to press his lips against this very man. Foolishly and hopelessly. Though, especially in these drunker moments, sometimes Peter looked back at him and he could swear he could see something akin to desire in his eyes. Though he quickly dismissed these thoughts as wishful thinking.

He also rarely let guilt over those feelings creep themselves into him, but for a second he couldn’t help it. He loved Diana and was faithful to her. Wanting a guy who would never want him back, and also was his closest friend, was no violation to their bond. It really, really wasn’t.

The winter holiday break was upon them. Obviously, Tim was visiting Diana and her family, after a short stop home for Christmas Day. Peter traveled with him to the train station, but kept his circumstances vague, something about London and Geneva. But he did not give up on grilling Tim and his connections to the senator. Between answering Peter’s inane questions and trying to negotiate for the right train ticket, for once Diana was on the forefront of his mind. Probably for the first time since his arrival at UVA. Since he met Pete.

He did truly miss her and was looking forward to seeing her. And no, his thoughts were not as dirty as wondering how they would fuck in her parents’ house, despite Peter’s joking assertions. He was just happy to see her again and to celebrate the holidays together. He did love her and nothing and no one would change that. She was after all the woman he was sure he would marry one day. They loved each other dearly, despite their physical distance, and ultimately agreed on where their lives were heading. They had a perfect arrangement fueled by genuine care for one another.

While boarding the train, Peter mentioned his presence in New York. “Listen, I’m flying back in to New York. You maybe want to get together?”

“Hey, hey, the Stiles’ throw this famous New Years Eve party, if you’re back in time. I want you to meet Diana, too. Alright, let me give you the number,” Tim pulled out a notebook and scribbled the Stiles’ number on it.

“Nobody has a pen in this situation, what a guy,” Peter said with absolute astonishment in his voice, while also seeming to admire Tim for it. If the moment were less busy, Tim would’ve basked in a comment like that from Peter.

The train was already moving while Peter handed him his remaining things and they wished each other a Merry Christmas.

Him and Diana were in the middle of fooling around when his phone started to ring. He normally wouldn’t answer under these circumstances, but he was waiting for a call from Peter. And he was the one person he would drop almost anything for, even sex. Well, not completely drop, but at least delay, and that meant a lot already.

“Tim! Pete!” came from the line.

He couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“Hey Pete, how you doing?” he said slightly pushing Diana to the side.

“Good, man. How are you? Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Hey, how was London?” he asked, remembering that his best friend was just out of the country. He almost asked if he was okay after such a long flight, but also didn’t want to show too much of his concern.

“Oh, it was great man, it was just great. It snowed and everything.”

“Oh yeah, where are you now?”

“I’m in New York City. And listen, I figured, I’m in New York, and I got to visit my aunt and uncle in Hartford tomorrow. I was just wondering if I could stop in and say hi, you know?” he hastily recited, but by now Tim paid more attention to Diana administrations than Peter’s words.

“Yeah, I’ve got an idea. Come up here New Years eve,” Diana kept distracting him, so he pushed her away. Gladly, she just chuckled, but he didn’t care either way. Peter was his only focal point right now. “I just checked. It’s fine. Yeah, do you have a tux?”

“Yeah, sure I got a tux. No problem,” the response came.

Tim quickly gave Peter the directions, while focusing his attention back to Diana, his girlfriend. Where it should be. Not distracted by any roommates.

Afterwards, gleaming in the bliss, Pete was the furthest thing from his mind. At least, until Diana brought him up.

“So, who was that on the phone? Did you give him our address?”

“Hmm,” he was still a little groggy in his postcoital state. “Oh, that’s just Pete, my roommate.”

“Yeah, you mentioned him before.”

He has? Well, when talking about UVA it was hard not to mention him, considering they spent every waking moment together. And sleeping moments too, he supposes.

“Well, he’s back from London and visiting some family out here and wanted to drop by. I invited him to the New Year’s Eve party; that’s okay, right?”

“Oh yeah, no one will mind an extra guest, mom doesn’t even know half the people who are attending and dad’s happy as long as he can talk politics. What’s this Pete like?”

“Oh, don’t worry about Pete, he’s completely fine, he won’t disturb anything. He wants to become a Senator himself, he’ll try to make a good impression, most likely,” he hoped Diana knew he wouldn’t invite anyone who would be trouble, but then again parties were quite the big deal, when it came to how one was perceived.

“No silly, I don’t mean that. I’m sure he’s more than polite, if he can deal with you,” she laughed. “I mean what’s he like? What type of person is he?”

What type of person was Peter Burton? Charismatic and intelligent, but with a certain temperament. Someone who knew what he wanted and would certainly get it. An utterly fascinating guy to behold. After a short pause he simply said:

“He kind of reminds me of James Dean.”

“Well, in that case I can’t wait to meet him. James Dean is quite attractive.”

That was definitely not what he meant, Tim thought, but kept it to himself. And she wasn’t necessarily wrong about that anyway, “Not as attractive as you, of course.”

She must have mistaken his silence for jealousy, rather than thoughtfulness, but he decided to run with that.

“Of course not,” he said and leaned over to kiss her. Maybe round two would come sooner than later.

After talking to some of the most boring, but seemingly still corrupt people all evening, he was happy midnight, and therefore the main event, was quickly approaching. If these people had to be criminals, could they at least be just a little bit more interesting? He guessed that’s why he wanted to go into Justice, though after his talk with the current Deputy Attorney General, it was clear the people there wouldn’t be that much more stimulating. But persecuting criminals still seemed better than being surrounded by them. Either way, he put his name out there and that was a good start. But now he was looking forward to just hanging out with Diana and Pete.

“There you are,” he found them together in the kitchen, probably talking about him, considering they didn’t have anything in common outside of him. Sure, they were both ambitious, but Peter was determined and headstrong, while Diana was more calculating and thought things through. He thought they might clash over that a bit more. Then again, he always sensed a more daring streak to Diana, though she seemed to keep that part of her mostly hidden. Still, he was glad they seemed to get along, they were the two most important people in his life right now, after all.

So, he went right to complaining about the states of affairs in modern politics and how they expressed themselves in superfluous parties. Diana of course counterargued, as was expected considering how implemented her family was in all this, and he had to clarify that he wasn’t talking about her father, though the condemnation was implicated. When a minute to midnight was called, they quickly started on their new year’s resolution. It stayed light until instead of thinking about next year, they started on the next decade. That was somehow easier for them all, in this transitional stage of their lives.

“Prosecuting half the guest list, thank you,” he started, still half-joking. He guessed. Diana responded adorably and then turned to Pete.

“Peter?” he took a second, then clapped on the desk and raised his glass.

“I resolve to be elected to congress within ten years!”

“That’s it?” Tim responded, sarcastically. Sure, he knew this was Peter’s dream, but he also considered him sane and reasonable.

“But I mean it,” he simply responded, like that was all it took, for his plan to become reality. Then he held up the champagne bottle that provided their coming toast. “Is this stuff expensive?”

“About eighty a bottle,” Diana responded, clearly curious where this was going and honestly, so was Tim.

“Make a bet with you,” he said, with more confidence than Tim thought was wise, but still exciting. “Election night ’90. If I win, you’ll each owe me a bottle of this.”

“And if you lose?” Tim teased.

“I’ll bring you a case, next day, wherever you are,” he sure was confident, if this bet was serious. And to Tim it was, because why not?

So, he said, “That’s a bet,” while Diana threw out a joking comment herself.

And then midnight was upon them and the new year began. They embraced and Tim kissed Diana long and hard. For a second Pete was gone, but when he turned back towards him, once again he felt a tension that was by now familiar.

And, just out of instinct, nothing more, he brought their lips together for a quick peck. Diana let out a little laugh, but for Tim time froze. He was looking in Pete’s eyes desperately trying to see if he just ruined something. If he made things awkward between them forever now. Instead, Peter simply stared back. He could almost imagine they were wearing similar expressions of surprise. But no anger, no disgust, just open inquiry.

Then Diana’s parents approached to wish them well and the moment dispelled. His attention turned away from Pete and Diana. He knew, they would find each other later and truly celebrate the event outside of scruffy parties, more designed to be professional mixers than actual celebrations.

Peter lied. So what? He was still the same Pete to Tim. Theoretically Peter Burtowski, but if he wanted it to be Peter Burton, then he’s Peter Burton. His roommate, his best friend, his Pete. Nothing else mattered.

Sure, he was mad at first, but not because of what he was lying about, but that Pete felt like he needed to lie about that stuff in the first place. But his explanation made sense. He knew how judgmental his peers could be. The deriding comments about anyone perceived lesser came plenty and easily to many, at least behind closed doors. And the ones who didn’t say it themselves sure laughed along.

He had just hoped that after all these months, Pete could have trusted him more and told him the truth himself and without some guy at a bar breaking the deception. But it was out and they’re still friends. No, nothing could change their bond and he knew Pete was honest now, there was nothing left to lie about. At least not yet.

“I just can’t stand seeing him anymore.”

A couple days after arriving back UVA they were alone in their dorm room, drinking, which meant they let themselves get a lot more emotionally honest than they normally were. And now that Tim knew everything, Peter had no gripes sharing his issues with his father.

“It’s like he represents everything I can’t stand and it’s even worse when I see myself in him. Because, you know, he had a temper and he would lie all the time and now I’ve done the exact same, because I thought it would distance me from him. What a joke.”

“The thing is, these personal traits of your father’s, something you can’t stand, these come out in you. There’s nothing you can do about it anymore than you can about getting his ears or his hairline,” Peter took sips and nodded along to his talking, while topping Tim’s glass off without prompting, “You know, last weekend, right? Diana, little thing, dinner before the movie. Turns into a fight for no other reason than me sticking to a goddamn plan, you know? My father exactly!”

“How?”

“Well, he… he ran his house the exact same way he runs his courtroom, confusing stubbornness with strength,” Peter kept quiet, though Tim wasn’t sure if he was taking in what he was saying or the alcohol started too really hit. For both of them by now. “Anyway, you know, I knew what she meant, got even madder denying it. Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”

At this point Tim wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about or where he was truly going with it. But Peter seemed to keep up well enough to nod to what he was saying and answer anyway.

“But you don’t have to become your old man,” Peter paused and just now he realized how intense their eye contact was and how close their faces were to one another. “It’s not inevitable… not if you fight it with everything you got.”

The look he leveled at him became more and more intense as he went on. He took another sip and looked down, as if he was bracing himself, before locking eyes with him once more.

“You know, Tim. I really like you,” Tim laughed a little at the sudden sincerity.

“Yeah, man. I really like you, too. What’s this all about now?”

“No, I mean—" he cut himself off and looked away for a second, before locking their eyes with sheer determination.

And then he kissed him. Peter fucking Burton was kissing him. Not a quick peck, but a real, intentional kiss. Well, that was certainly behavior not like either of their fathers, that was sure.

After a short amount of surprise, as well as the booze in his system slowing down his reaction time, Tim started to kiss him back. He didn’t know what made him do it, except to finally get something he thought he would never have. Something he fantasized about so many times and now that it was happening it was a little unbelievable. But it was happening, he was kissing Peter Burton and it didn’t seem to end.

Their lips were moving against each other in an increasingly intense fashion. The alcohol, at least he surmised it was the alcohol, made him uninhibited enough to dare put his hand on the back of Peter’s head. Slightly raking his hand through the stubble at the base of his neck. Meanwhile, Pete was bracing himself with a hand on Tim’s shoulder. The touch felt hot, despite the barrier of his clothes.

Though they inevitably broke apart after longer than Tim could comprehend, though before anything more could happen. They looked at each other, although Tim was unsure what he saw in those deep, brown eyes. His best guess was relief. Then they slowly disengaged from one another, hands falling away and they increased their proximity a little.

While Pete’s cheeks were lightly peaked, Tim wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the kissing, though he was aware of a similar warmth in his own cheeks, which certainly felt new. Before making a decision on whether to speak or maybe go back to the kissing, Pete made the decision for him. Slightly disappointing, considering the kissing option was starting to win out.

“More?” he asked while slightly raising the almost empty bottle, sounding a little breathless.

Tim simply nodded, not trusting his own voice to not have that same breathlessness. So, Pete put half of the content left in the bottle in Tim’s cup before leaning back to sip on what was left in it. And that was that. Tim drank.

They both got their internships and it was everything they had hoped it would be. Peter working for Senator Stiles, Diana’s father, and Tim interning at the Department of Justice. Yes, these were their paths. And their inevitable downfalls. Each other’s downfalls. But right now, they were soaring.

Since the night of the kiss, neither one of them mentioned it again. Tim wasn’t even sure if Pete remembered it, considering how drunk they were. But Tim remembered, because even inebriation could not make him forget something he wanted so badly. But sober him also knew he couldn’t have it.

A drunken kiss meant nothing, in-between all of the impossibilities this would bring. His relationship with Diana, their careers, their social standing, no, none of these things allowed whatever there was between them that extended beyond friendship. So, it remained a quiet secret, despite their one leap of judgement. At least as far as Tim was concerned.

At dinner with some fellow interns, they exchanged stories and jokes, while spotting a cheating Senator; Steubens. Followed by gossip and a joke he would inevitably feel guilty about. Part of it, and he wouldn’t admit it at the time, was fueled by seeing a forbidden relationship be carried out so publicly. How dare they flaunt something, a relationship, that wasn’t allowed and couldn’t be, when he couldn’t even have that in private.

Pete, on the other hand, was unusually coolheaded and saw it as nothing but an opening. While everyone else was continuing their jokes, Tim had a suspicion Peter was serious about Stiles being able to use the information against Steubens. How serious he didn’t know until they separated from the group to ride home to their temporary flat in Washington, in Pete’s car.

In the parking lot, Pete pointed out Steubens car.

“Wow, now I’ve seen it all. Pete, can we go home now?” just a little sarcastically. He was beat after the long work day and the honestly exhausting dinner. He just wanted to call it a night and go home.

But Pete thought differently. Differently enough apparently, to go ahead and stab the Senators tire and stage a mutual problem. Tim stood by wordlessly. He knew Pete was willing to obscure the truth to get advantages, but to commit crimes and outright lie about it was a completely new facet to this man he thought he knew so well. At the same time, he was curious to see where this was going.

He conversed with the Senator like it was nothing. The Senator acting caught and Peter acting oblivious. And it somehow worked. Pete offered his tire changing services and his car, and readily, the Senator accepted to prevent potential further embarrassment. Cozying up to Pete in the process.

Once Steubens left, Pete basked.

“The moves on this kid,” he said, while triumphantly spinning in the now empty parking lot.

“You stuck his tire. It’s no move. It’s a crime,” Tim still couldn’t fully believe what he just witnessed.

“Okay, so I created a situation. So what?” and he argued on how this was a good thing, for policy or whatever. But the conclusion was inevitable to Tim.

“It’s wrong,” no matter how much Pete tried to explain his actions. So, he fired back.

“What, do you think the Department of Justice never cuts corners? It’s a brand-new day in America, man,” Pete states.

“What the fuck does that mean,” now he was almost furious.

“Don’t get caught,” he said it like a new revelation, but Tim knew it wasn’t one.

It’s what Peter believed when their cars first collided and he lied about who was responsible. It was true when he lied to him all those months about his background and who he was. And it was true now, when he wanted to earn trust from as many significant figures in Washington as possible, no matter the cost. And, with the way he was staring at him, silently communicating through the guilt in his eyes, Tim knew at once, it might have been true when Pete kissed him. The look of relief after, was just that, he wasn’t caught, because Tim kissed him back.

“Lighten up,” he said after a short pause, turning towards Tim. “I didn’t break into Watergate. I let the air out of a tire. It’s kids’ stuff,” after a short standoff, Peter dismissed him and walked towards the senator’s car to fix it.

The drive home was icy, to say the least. They kept quiet, while Pete drove the Senators car to their apartment, fitted with a new tire, ready to be returned in the morning. Once they were through the front door of their apartment, Tim was ready to go to his room and just end this miserable day and have himself some good night’s sleep. But Pete seemed to have different plans and caught him by the arm, after closing the front door. Tim turned around sharply to level a furious stare at him.

The least Pete could do now was to leave him alone to maybe simmer down a little after sleeping over the events of the evening. But no, Pete couldn’t let anything just be, he had to fix it as soon as possible, even if it left him in more peril.

“Hey, I know you might not always agree with my methods, but you can’t deny the results. Come on, this will be good for Stiles, you’ll see.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Stiles and his policy plans,” Tim exploded. “What if you were caught? This could’ve ended your career before it even began.”

“Oh, so this isn’t just about your moral standards, you’re concerned for me?”

“Of course I’m concerned for you, Pete,” a little sadness slipping into his anger. Though the anger was very much still there. “Don’t become something you don’t want to be.”

He left the ‘don’t become your dad’ implied. Pete’s expression was mostly unreadable, except that he seemed to get what Tim truly meant, but how it affected him, he couldn’t tell.

And then Pete kissed him. For the second time in their complicated relationship and the third kiss between them in their lives.

But, unlike the first time Tim kissed Pete it wasn’t in quick celebration, and unlike the first time Pete kissed Tim, they weren’t drunk. No this was a thorough and sober action. Sure, they each had a drink during dinner, but not even enough to stop them from driving, let alone to blame it for what was currently happening. And Tim should really stop it from happening. It was complete insanity for them to do this, plus Tim was very much still mad at him. And a small part of him thought that this might be the only reason this was even happening.

But he shut that part down, he didn’t push Pete away. Instead, just like the first time Pete initiated a kiss, he not just let it happen, he gave in and kissed back. And this time Pete did take it as a sign to take things further.

He slowly led Tim back to his own room, all the while not taking a break from kissing him. Pete taking control of the kiss, and his small height advantage, was enough for him to commander Tim to his bed and lay him out on it. He moved to kissing Tim’s neck while they both took off their ties and went on to unbutton their own shirts. After they’d gotten rid of their undershirts, now lying chest to chest, Peter whispered into his ear.

“Please, don’t be mad at me, Timmy. I really like you and I don’t want you to be mad anymore,” he said, all the while he continued leaving hot kisses and touches all over his neck and chest.

“God, Pete, I’m not, I promise. Just… please,” he didn’t know what exactly he was asking for, but Pete seemed satisfied with his answer, so he continued on.

He unbuttoned Tim’s pants while slowly kissing down his chest, headed for a clear destination. In this moment, all the justified anger and hurt left Tim and he just let himself love this complicated man. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? This impossibly close bond they shared. Tim had to finally admit it now, with Peter kneeling in front of him, looking up in an act seeking final approval. With a quick nod Tim answered, both himself and Pete. He was in love and he really wanted this, no matter the preceding circumstances.

This was not just lust or curiosity, but love. Because only love makes you do truly foolish things.

They both knew this couldn’t be a thing. It was good and neither one of them regretted it, but they also knew how dangerous it would be to continue it. So, they agreed; this was a one-time thing. No strings attached and their friendship wasn’t altered. And certainly, no telling Diana.

He felt guilty he cheated on her of course, but it at least made him that much more certain that he wanted to be with her. Fully commit to her and no one else. Even, if it’s partly because the one other person he wanted, he really couldn’t have, at least not in that way. But that didn’t matter, because he loved Diana and she would be enough. She was enough long before he even knew Pete and this wouldn’t change now. Not because of one leap of judgement. So, he settled for friendship with Pete and he would marry Diana. At least that was what he planned.

And then Peter told him that he wouldn’t go back to UVA with him. It came as a complete shock and he felt honestly a little betrayed. Was that because they slept together? They both reassured each other that it wouldn’t change anything, but maybe it had? At least for Peter? But no, otherwise he was the same Pete, nothing else changed. So, he decided to just enjoy the short time he had left in Washington, before going back to Law School. Because his ambition did require an actual degree and he was steadfast on getting it and working hard to be in Washington with Peter in the coming years. Him and Peter and Diana.

Except no, not Diana, because she rejected his proposal, before he could even pull out the ring and ask her. His ambitions were apparently not high enough. As if that mattered in any way. But it did, to her. He felt rejected and the only person he wanted to talk to was Pete. Logically, he knew this wouldn’t change anything for them, they didn’t end, or rather not really started, this thing between them because of Diana. And still, some small part of him held out hope they could at least do something and this time truly guilt free.

But Pete was already working hard on Stiles’ team and that included long hours, so he didn’t catch him until the next day, walking through the Capitol.

“Hey, how’s it going Tim? So, can I expect a wedding invitation in my mailbox soon?”

“No, but you can buy me a drink tonight. Diana broke it off.”

“Wait, what happened? She said no?”

“I knew the answer was no before I even had a chance to ask.”

“Did she give you a reason?”

“Seems my career plans aren’t glamorous enough. It seems like that matters a whole lot, so…” he truly tried not to sound too bitter about that. He knew what he wanted to do with his career, something he could be proud of.

“What are you going to do?”

What was there left to do? “Try and fall out of love with her.”

“But she loves you, man. Anybody can see it. I mean, if she loses you over some agenda, then she doesn’t deserve you in the first place, man. Am I right or am I right?”

Before he could respond, probably something idiotic like ‘do you deserve me then?’, they were interrupted by John Lawry, one of Stiles’ aides. Peter didn’t want him to leave, so he stayed and got to witness Peter getting completely chewed out and promptly send to the New Heaven campaign staff for his penance. Tim almost felt vindicated that the very thing he judged Peter for came back to bite him in the ass. Except, his plan still worked and that’s all that mattered to Pete. So, they went on, Peter complaining about Lawry, while also making it clear that he was nothing but a small inconvenience on his way to success. Before he could go on too long Tim interrupted him.

“I was wondering, Pete, now that things are over with Diana, where does that leave us? I mean, obviously I first need to really get over Diana and we’re going to be apart anyway, but… maybe once I’m back in Washington in a couple of years, we could… I don’t know. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“What do you mean us? You’ll always be my best friend, Tim. Nothing will change that, even if I’m working for your ex-girlfriend’s dad. I mean, that’s only temporary anyway, right?”

“No, I mean…” he paused as another Senator and his assistants passed. He pulled Peter into an empty hallway to the side. “I mean, now that we’re both single… we could…” he left the actual thing unspoken. It probably wasn’t wise to bring up that subject in any capacity in public, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

Peter looked around a little alarmed, making sure they were truly alone before turning back to Tim, talking in a hushed voice.

“No Tim, we can’t. We really, really can’t. We agreed that couldn’t be a thing and we both know that had nothing to do with Diana. Look, I’m truly sad it didn’t work out between you two, but our thing was always separate from that,” he paused for a second, as if to collect himself. “And I’m not saying this because I wouldn’t want to, Timmy. I care for you… deeply. But neither one of us can afford this type of secret, you know that.”

He did know that. He felt so foolish that he even brought it up. Letting that hope in him win. But what was he hoping for? It had to be a secret, there was no other option and, in their world, you avoided secrets like that. Secrets that would end your career the instance they were found out.

“So, just go back to UVA, I go to fucking New Heaven and then one day we’ll be back here, together, you working for the D.O.J. or whatever and me in Congress, on my way to becoming a Senator. And us, being best friends. Like we planned, right?”

“Right, right,” and he was right. It still hurt. “We’ll keep in touch?”

“Of course, we’ll keep in touch. I will never not have your back Tim Garrity, you have my word.”

“Well, glad you’re not a Senator yet, because in my experience, their words are pretty lousy,” he joked.

“Okay, okay,” Peter laughed along.

They would be fine. Maybe not everything they wanted to be together, but they would be fine.

They weren’t fine. Because once again, Peter lied to him. For months he lied to him and now he wanted his blessing.

The trip started out great. He was celebrating his new job at the D.O.J. and Peter took his long overdue break from Washington. They stayed at a ski lodge, courtesy of one of the many connections Pete has made so far. And apparently it got him a promotion too, though he was still working for Stiles. But he had that ‘personal connection’ now. Peter really loved embellishing these types of things.

Days they spent eating nice meals at the lodge, exploring the small town close by, and hanging out with different tourist, because sweet talking complete strangers was not just a career but a passion for Pete. He also tried to sweet talk Tim though, constantly goading him into joining him and his inevitable campaign. But Tim insisted his satisfaction with his job. He will be making a difference, even if Pete might not see it yet.

And of course, they went skiing. Tim was a little more experienced, having grown up with annual ski trips every winter holiday. But Pete tried to keep up and he was improving quite quickly, to Tim’s surprise. The truly hard slopes he, however, let Tim explore on his own. Well, at least until their trip came to an end and Pete finally fessed up.

“Damn, did we do this week up or what?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“God, look at that,” it truly was beautiful up here.

If he was honest, he really felt like himself these past few days, in a way he hadn’t in a while. He can’t even deny that it’s because he was with Pete again.

Sure, they saw each other a little in Washington, but right now he really was busy putting the hours in to move up the ladder, as quickly as possible, and that left little time, even for Pete. But there were talks about a coming case, that needed many people, and if he could get in on that, he was on a sure way towards the top. Actually, get to lead his own investigations, maybe even speak to the press about them. Not that he strived for admiration or glory in this, but the current pay was admittedly pretty bad, he had to give that to Pete. But a little extra work now and everything would go just right soon enough.

And hopefully he will have a little more time again. Maybe even put himself out there again. He hated to admit it, but he was lonely since Diana broke it off… since Pete.

“Listen, Tim, I got to talk to you about something, alright? I’m seeing somebody, I haven’t been straight,” that felt like it came out of nowhere.

Tim felt as if an apology was coming, but he didn’t know why. Did Pete maybe feel a little responsibility to inform him if he was dating someone, even after they decided they couldn’t be together. That he at least owed it to Tim to tell him, when it was truly impossible for them to be together, ever again. And honestly, despite knowing it would never be, this final confession still hurt. So maybe an apology was in order, or at least some ruefulness about the circumstances. But Pete wasn’t finished yet.

“I haven’t been… Diana.”

There it was. The one thing he wasn’t expecting. The one thing that could hurt him more than anything else.

“I’ve been with Diana. After you went back to school, I was around her. I was around the campaign. It’s been on and off for a year.”

Hurt turned to anger faster than he anticipated. Pete lied. Pete was seeing Diana. Pete didn’t even think about him and how he would feel. For a second, he was unsure who he was actually jealous of; Diana or Pete.

“And now?” he already knew what was coming, but it pained him none the less.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

“So, this is your own relationship with Stiles, you’re marrying his daughter,” because of course nothing mattered more to Pete than his career, that could be the only reason. The reason he picked Diana over him.

“I wish you wouldn’t think that.”

“What the fuck else am I supposed to think?”

That he loved her? That neither of them wanted him and now they had each other. And Tim was just supposed to be okay with that?

“It just happened.”

Tim wanted to punch him. He wanted to kiss him. Because even now, he still held such deep feelings for this man. A man who betrayed him in the worst way possible and still meant so much to him. Instead of doing either, he slowly turned towards the harder slope.

“I’m taking this,” he knew he was goading him, that this was a mistake, but he couldn’t help himself. He was hurt and angry and this felt cathartic, “If you want to take an easier run, I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

“Uh-uh, man. Last run. We got to ski together.”

“It’s up to you. Follow if you want,” without looking back he went down, knowing all the potential consequences.

He yelled, but it was too late. And now Pete was lying in the snow covered in blood. Because he couldn’t swallow his pride. Because he dared him, because he let him ski so long without a warning, and now he hurt him.

“Ski patrol is on its way.”

He threw himself next to Pete and checked him lightly over, before zipping up his jacket more.

“I didn’t hear you yelling soon enough. I know you were yelling.”

“Pete, I’m sorry,” he couldn’t stop touching him. He was hurt and it was all his fault.

Pete grabbed his jacket. “I was going too fast. I couldn’t hear, but I know you were there. I know you meant to warn me, I know that. I know that. I know you were trying to help.”

“I’m sorry,” he was gripping Pete’s jacket so tightly now, but he couldn’t relax. “Peter, oh god. Ski patrol,” he yelled again.

Pete yanked him down again.

“You know, with Diana— never meant to hurt you,” Tim grabbed his face again. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” and he meant it, because Pete was telling the truth. Because Pete loved him. They loved each other, even if they couldn’t. But Pete wouldn’t hurt him, not intentionally.

“Ski patrol,” he yelled again, because what else was there to do.

“Oh fuck,” Pete raised his arms and Tim put them down again.

“Alright, don’t move, don’t move,” he leaned down again.

“Be my best man,” it would‘ve been another punch to the gut, if he wasn’t still rushed with guilt and if Peter wasn’t so damn sincere about it. “Okay?”

“Yes,” because he could and would never say no, not to that and not in that moment.

“Timmy… kiss me.”

What? It seemed like the most inappropriate time for that, lying in the snow bleeding, just having asked Tim to be his best man in his wedding to the one girl Tim had truly loved.

And still, despite all of these things, or maybe because of them, Tim gave in. He pressed a quick peck to Pete’s lips. The taste of copper between them. When he finally pulled himself back Pete’s eyes revealed a softer look than he had ever seen on this man’s face. But like nothing happened, he immediately went back to yelling for help.

But a silent agreement seemed to have been established between them. This would never be fully over. The chance of more would always linger between them.

So, Tim was Pete’s best man at his wedding. Watched him and Diana start the life he thought he would have. If maybe, a little more political than his would’ve been.

Meanwhile, he concentrated on his work at the D.O.J. He abandoned any hopes when it came to his own love life. He had flings here and there, but more than anything, he was married to his work now. And it was fulfilling work, if not glamorous.

He was just finished reporting another triumph to the press, when Pete caught him on the way out.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” sadly, he didn’t get to see Pete quite as much, since he moved to Connecticut, so he was ecstatic by the surprise visit.

“Taking Dick Tracy to the Superbowl. What do you say?” he held up some tickets.

Oh, he was so in, “Let’s go!”

Tim didn’t care that the seats weren’t the best or about private boxes sponsored by the NRA, he was just happy to be with Pete.

“How come you’re wasting a perk like the Superbowl on a lowly D.O.J. attorney?”

“Hey, maybe I did waste them, fuck you too. I took you, cause I never get to see you anymore, man.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Pete went on, but the anthem interrupted them and then they were enraptured by the game. Things were going great, until Pete tried to introduce him to a Senator during the half-time show, who wasn’t too happy with Tim’s most recent stint. Another reason to never go to Florida, he surmised. Pete tried to apologize, in between a little jab, but quickly moved on to tell him about a different case to look out for.

Tim was just glad they were hanging out again. In fact, they reassured each other to meet at least every couple of months. They both realized they missed each other more than they thought, plus Pete thought a good public relation between Stiles’ office and the D.O.J. would benefit both parties.

A republican that respected Justice, sure a novel idea, Tim thought, but he played along. Because seeing Pete, frequently, was well worth it. Plus, any info on the New Hampton case would help, even if it was just a threshold investigation.                                                

He got fucking suspended. Someone set him up, put some journalist on his trail and now he was offered up by the department like a lamb for the slaughter. It didn’t matter how apologetic and understanding his boss acted, the result was the same. Here he was, honest all the way down, doing everything he could to honor the promises about justice he consistently made. Just to be brought down by a frivolous case about fucking development deals.

He basically raced to Pete and Diana’s home. They were the only people who would truly listen and immediately understand this injustice. Also, Peter needed to make sure he wouldn’t be implicated, considering he was involved in the tip off. When he arrived, frantically knocking on their door, Peter opened it.

“Oh god, Tim. Is everything alright?” the immediate concern let him know he looked exactly as crazed as he felt.

“I got fucking suspended,” he immediately said, while pushing inside, going to the drink cart, which he knew stood in the living room.

He poured himself a whiskey and continued, “The New Hampton case is an absolute bust. Probably a setup by a competitor. You should check your sources as well. Fuck!” he was still out of breath from the hurry to get to Pete. The frustration over the situation also didn’t help. He sat down on the couch and took a large sip and swiped down his face, hoping it would calm him a little.

“Yeah, I will check those as soon as possible,” Pete reassured him, a little nervously. After a short pause, he moved closer to Tim, looking down at him, not in pity, but curiosity. “But does that mean you’re free now? If those bastards suspended you over something so trivial, fuck them, right? Because I’m starting my campaign soon and I could use someone who’s legally savvy, so if you want—”

Tim interrupted him. “I don’t care about my employment prospects right now! I was happy working at Justice. And now it’s basically over. Even if they let me back in, do you think I’ll ever be allowed to do more than pencil pushing after this?”

He hung his head low, staring at his drink.

“Hey, even more reason to look into other prospects!”

“Fuck you, Pete,” he said, almost resigned.

He stood up and pushed him away. “You know what I wanted from the moment we met. But I guess you’re too invested in talks about running for Congress for my lowly D.O.J. problems, I better leave.”

He put his glass aside, before turning back, ready to leave, but Pete pressed him down again and sat next to him.

“No wait, that’s not what I meant, just…” he inhaled deeply and changed his course. “Okay… so they got you, whatever, who cares. You don’t want to work on my team, it’s fine. You’re important to Justice Tim, they will need you back. They’ll find someone else to blame and the moment they do, they will ask you back, I guarantee.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I know you, Timmy. You really care and that’s a rare thing, man,” the intense eye contact was familiar to them by now.

“What if they don’t? What if they leave me out to dry, what then? What would I have left?”

“Me, you’ll always have me, Timmy,” Pete stated simply. Tim took a second to comprehend that one word, until all of the implications that came with it hit him like a truck. “And Diana, of course. We’ll always be there for you,” he added with a delay.

“And where is Diana now?” because the pragmatist in him was always present. He felt guilty for what was about to happen, but also secretly delighted. After all he would only do to her, what she already did to him.

Except for a single second he realized, he didn’t actually switch places with her, but with Pete. He was now the affair, the other one. Diana continued to be the one who was cheated on. And in that case, Pete was the winner. He got them both, the only way he could have them both. Diana as the perfect wife and Tim as the lustful affair. In that way, Peter probably played them both for fools. Both his resentment and lust rose at the realization, as fucked up as it was. And, most shamefully, he still wanted him. Because he will always want Pete.

“She’s with the Stiles. She visits her parents every other weekend for a couple of days. Left today,” and the way he said it was so clear. They didn’t just have the evening to themselves, but the entire weekend. “It’s just us.”

And that was certainly enough for both of them to rush forward into a fervent kiss. Neither one tried to deny or excuse their feelings, while their lips interlocked. It was a constant back and forth, kind of like a battle. Except there was collaboration involved. They pushed at each other and started to take their clothes off. Both of them were shirtless, when Peter realized some hesitation on Tim’s side.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, while unbuttoning Tim’s pants, still kissing the side of his neck.

“N- nothing, just…” he let out a quiet moan. “What is this to you?”

He surprised himself by asking this question, but he couldn’t help himself. Sure, having sex with Pete again was something he dreamed of for years, but he couldn’t stop wondering why Pete was initiating this now? They had so many opportunities since that first time all those years ago. Tim always chalked it up to Pete respecting his bond to Diana, but now it was clear that wasn’t it. So, he scanned the moment for any reason that related back to that very first time.

“What do you mean?” Pete asked, not interrupting his actions.

“I mean, do you actually care or is this a pity fuck?” his suddenly serious tone seemed to surprise both of them.

Peter discontinued his kissing efforts to look at Tim. At this point, they were both almost completely naked, only wearing their underwear, standing in the middle of Peter’s living room. All of this was a little absurd to Tim. For a second, he imagined Diana coming home early, just to open the door to this clearly ridiculous looking scene. Both of them in their underwear, holding each other, and discussing the optics of their actions.

“Timmy… I love you; you know that. You have to know that by now,” he grabbed his face and looked deeply into his eyes.

And he did, he did know that. “So, let me make you feel good, alright? That’s all I want to do.”

Tim thought everything Pete just said over in his mind. Pete was a liar. He lied every time it would give him an advancement. Every time it was necessary for his preservation. But this didn’t advance anything for Pete, if anything, it would hurt him. He had no reason to lie to get this. This had nothing to do with Pete and his career. So, he believed him.

“Okay… okay, take me to bed then,” he said, and that’s just what Pete did. They ended up in the master bedroom, stripped off the rest of the way and let their lust carry the rest of their actions for the night.

The next morning, Tim woke up in increments, until he realized he wasn’t at home. He quickly looked around, until he spotted a sleeping Pete behind him, all the memories of the previous night flooding back. He slowly relaxed, while ignoring the guilt that flooded him. He betrayed Diana twice over now. But he also couldn’t deny the satisfaction he experienced. So, he pressed himself back into Pete, hoping it would wake him up and it did.

“Hmm, good morning,” Pete said, “Was last night not enough?”

“I just want to be close to you, that’s all,” which was true. Though he knew, there were some pending issues to discuss. He basked in a few moments of ignorance, before he quietly asked. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” he whispered back, hiding his face in Tim’s hair.

Tim disentangled himself from Pete’s embrace to turn around and face him. He wasn’t quite prepared for the scene that met him. Pete’s expression was so clear and honest, his brown eyes open wide and full of genuine inquiry. His hair, for once, was free of any product, strands of it falling over his forehead. He had a certain boyishness about him that he usually hid behind verbose speeches and expensive suits. He was still very attractive, at least to Tim, but more so in a cute puppy way, than his usual James Dean demeanour. This open sense of sincerity almost dissolved Tim‘s skepticism, but part of him clung onto his doubts of their current position.

“That I got fired,” he tried to sound angry, but his words ended up as morose.

“No, I swear. Not until you came here. Remember, I’m just an aide, I barely get told anything,” he insisted, “And if I did, I would’ve told you.”

“Yeah, I know. I trust you,” Tim responded.

And he did, he had to. He closed the distance they built up during the argument and they both relaxed into the embrace facing each other.

They spent the rest of the weekend in the house together. They thought about going out together, at least to get a drink at a bar, but they knew they’d have to put on a show. Couldn’t touch or flirt or talk about anything substantial. So, they stayed inside.

But Tim didn’t mind, because it resulted in them mainly spending their time together the way they did back in college. Pete didn’t even leave to go to the office to check on things. He truly had all of his attentions on Tim, for once. So, they spent all of their time together. Discussing laws and policies, though their views have shifted apart since the college days, complaining about self-righteous assholes, taking it easy, drinking in the evening, and fucking. Yeah, that was them, alright, even if that last part was new. Or new again and the desire was always there anyway.

But Tim knew this was only temporary, but it also opened up new opportunities. Maybe this could work, if only for small timespans. Just once in a while. Tim could live with that. So, the weekend ended, and Pete had to go into the office the next day, plus Diana would return tomorrow evening, so Tim decided to leave Sunday night. He was on his way out, already opening the front door, when Pete caught him by the arm.

“Diana and me are going to have a little get together next weekend, could you come?” he looked genuinely pleading. Like a random dinner with some yuppies mattered to Tim right now. He was astounded by how quickly they both became unbothered by mentioning Diana.

“A get together? You plan on hosting the RNC in here?”

“Fuck you, man. Just come by next Saturday, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Not like I’m busy at the moment,” he tried not to sound too sardonically. Really.

Pete gave him an almost pained look for a second, before he put on his most winning smile.

“But maybe you will be again soon. You never know.”

Sure, Tim never knew.                                                                   

Tim knew. Peter set him up and got him suspended from his job. His best friend. A man he shared a bond with that only few people had. A man he shared a bed with not even a few weeks ago. Right after he did it, too.

And now he was hitting Peter right back, by going undercover in his campaign for Congress. A campaign only endorsed by his own father-in-law, because Peter threatened him.

God, what a mess this was and that wasn’t even acknowledging the frankly shady involvement of John Palmeri.

All the talks about them not being able to be together, because of the risks, but he happily got into bed (in this case metaphorically) with a guy tied to organized crime. Why would Peter get into relations with a guy like that? Well, Tim guessed for the same reason he slashed those tires, all those years back. Any advantage he could get, he would take. And being with Tim just wasn’t an advantage, just love. But just love wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t have been enough for marrying Diana either. He chose her over Tim not because he wanted her more, but because she offered him more.

And now Tim will be the one destroying him. It would be a lie not to admit that he felt guilty, even after all Peter did to deserve it. Mostly he was sorry he was the one to do it, he guessed. If he could load it off to someone else, he would do so, but like he told the agents, trust like theirs was a rare asset. Even if Peter betrayed that trust multiple times over, Tim was still good, until now. But what Peter didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Until he would know and it certainly would hurt in more ways than one.

So, he cozied up to Palmeri and handled everything Peter wanted him to handle. And if he had to wear a hidden mic while doing so, then so be it.

He was in a hotel room with one of the agents, getting coached on his private dinner with Palmeri. After getting fitted with a miked jacket, he can’t help but ask how the final bust, most likely on election night, would go down.

“Easy, we install a hidden camera in a room where you can easily get him alone in and then you just have to make sure he’s confessing to illegal activities in frame.”

“Any illegal activity? Or, you know, specifically pertaining to the case?”

“What do you mean?” Tim couldn’t say it directly, but he knew if a confrontation was to happen in private, their relationship would come up. The entirety of their relationship.

And as much as Peter needed to be held accountable, this was the one aspect he didn’t want to be scrutinized. And not just to save himself. He knew many people disagreed, but what there was between them was not wrong. It wasn’t shameful or perverse. It was as pure as love could be. Despite all the ugliness that surrounded it. He just had to be sure this one aspect wouldn’t be used against Peter, against either of them.

“I mean, if some unrelated, personal things came up, not necessarily illegal… in Connecticut, but questionable, would they be used?” he hoped his shameful tone and the small pause would be enough to get the implication across. He avoided eye contact while talking, but now he openly looked at the guy to see his reaction, but he stayed infuriatingly neutral. He guessed that FBI training was good for something.

“Well… I’m the only one who will be reviewing the footage and also drawing up the report based on it. As per our deal, you have complete immunity, if anything came up that would implicate you in any way, despite the actions in your undercover work of course, it would be completely struck from the record,” Tim remained silent. “Including any type of deviancy.”

The agent spoke quickly, but there it was. As much as the inevitable shame was running through him, he was relieved. It’s not like Peter would probably bring up anything specifically illegal, but implication would be enough, if statements were made public. So, for the one last time, he felt like he was excusing the one man who ruined him. The one man who truly trusted him.

And Peter sure trusted him with a lot. Including with Diana, apparently. Since they found out how Peter got her father’s endorsement, she went predictably cold on him. Not straight up divorcing him seemed the last curtesy she still offered. But now Peter tasked Tim with trying to get her to come to some of his debates. Tim seemed to not be the only one who knew the value of personal trust.

He sat at the bar sipping his drink, when the door opened. He can’t help but stand up the moment he spotted her. Part of him still cared for her in a special way, even if by now most of his more intense feelings for her had faded. He didn’t want her anymore, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t deserve better than what she got. Even though he still cared for Pete, even now, he could admit he did Diana more than dirty. Part of him wanted to confess, especially because he couldn’t tell her about his current duplicity.

“If it’s about playing wifey at his debate, the answer’s no.”

And there was the Diana he fell in love with all those years ago. Honest and to the point, immediately seeing through any scheme you put in front of her. For the obvious exception, that none of them could see.

“Is that final?”

“Yes,” her resoluteness was charming in a way, Tim couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay,” he truly tried to not give anything away. He wasn’t miked right now, he could tell her if he wanted to, but it was safer to keep her in the dark until it was over.

“Damn it, that is why you came down here, isn’t it. Reconnaissance on his marriage. That’s really pathetic, listen—”

“I told him I would talk to you and that’s all,” he interrupted her. Sadly, being kind of an asshole would probably sell it better.

“Well, you did your job. You can go.”

“No, you can go. I’m going to stay and finish my drink,” and it was her turn to be charmed.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed.

She sat down and ordered her drink, though not without some implication.

“What’s that?” because he had to ask.

“One of the new tricks I’m learning. Helps me see how things really are, instead of how I wish they were,” which piqued his interest. What did she mean by that. See through him? His deception? Or his true feelings?

“And what do you see?”

“I see how Peter gets a hold on people. He’s so good on telling you what you want to hear,” no, that wasn’t true, not fully. Sure, Peter lied to get ahead politically, but not in his personal life. When he told Tim how much he liked him, that was true. “How much we want to believe everything he says because of that. It’s very powerful.”

He couldn’t stand where his mind was going with this so he responded in the only way he could.

“That’s not just Peter. That’s politicians,” because it was all about politics, nothing else. “The successful ones anyway. And you can’t condemn them. It’s the nature of the beast.”

“Not condemn him for what he did to my father?” and now he needed to play along, show he’s on Peter’s side even on the topics where he wasn’t.

“He didn’t break any law any more than your father did by letting him get away with it. It’s a system that worked for over 200 years, remember?” except it didn’t, he knew that now.

And then she came back to the setup, which he obviously had to deny. And therefore she had to confront him. Because if anyone knew of his integrity, it was her.

“What are you doing with him, Tim? This isn’t you playing his game, is it?” he was about to respond, when she went on. “I know you two shared something special, but it can’t extend this far.” Hearing that out of her mouth shocked him. Did she know somehow? He had to double down, regardless.

“Look, I’m sorry you got hurt, okay, but just because he didn’t turn out to be your god damned perfect man, doesn’t mean I have to cut him off, too. I am helping out an old friend and that is all I’m doing.”

“Well, he didn’t turn out to be your perfect man either, did he now?” she said it so quietly, he almost could ignore the implication of those words.

She turned to leave.

“You don’t understand,” but she would, soon. Once he completed the double cross of the man that he loved. She apparently knew, he loved, even if she probably didn’t know everything that happened.

“No, I don’t understand. You’re right.”

She left, but Tim needed to tell her one last thing, so he followed. Because a bottle still had to be delivered on election night. A bet’s a bet.

Election night ’90. The room was full and loud and Tim was still making calls. Across the room he spotted Diana, bottle in hand. It all came down to tonight. He was sure Peter would win, even though the guy himself seemed not so sure, judging by how nervous he was. The reporter on TV called the Senate race for Stiles and that was certainly a clear enough sign.

Tension rose in the room, until Peter’s name was announced and everyone broke out in cheer. Now the hardest moment of his life was upon him. He downed the rest of his whiskey, hoping it might help his nerves. A random woman hugged him, a clear sign of the false comradery in the room. And then there was Peter. Hugging him, like he was the one person he wanted to be close to right now. The most important person to be close to.

“We did it, man. We fucking did it,” like it was their shared accomplishment. Their shared goal for Peter to win. His façade dropped for just a second after Peter turned away and let out another triumphant scream. He still congratulated the people around him, until he spotted Peter with Diana. He seemingly tried to stop her from leaving, but failed. Tim hurried after her. Screw telling no one, it was almost time to put this farce to an end and she deserved to know beforehand. So, he told her. Not everything, but enough. And her approval was enough to make him follow through with it. He knew Diana wouldn’t regret any of it. He wasn’t so sure about himself.

The room started to clear out, just as he was returning. He thanked everyone for their congratulations, but he had only one goal in mind. It was time. Expose John Palmeri. Expose Peter Burton. It was on.

Tim grabbed a bottle, opened it, and topped off two glasses. One last glance at the mirror in the room, which he knew the camera was hidden behind.

He approached Peter, who almost seemed to hide in a corner. His best guess was that he was still sulking about Diana’s departure, though he did not have all the details.

“Seven years, my friend. That’s settled,” he immediately perked up.

“Unbelievable,” Peter sounded genuinely astounded.

“This stuff’s a lot more expensive than it was in 1983, I tell you that.”

He topped off their glasses, right as Peter started recounting their slogan.

“We may not always get what we want,” and Tim had to laugh. A genuine laugh for the first time this evening. The reminder of their youthful naivety was both a point of delight and regret. But ultimately, he had to join him for the rest, one last time, if for nostalgia alone.

“We may not always get what we need, just so’s we don’t get what we deserve,” which was nothing, as far as Tim was concerned. And with nothing they would end. Still, he played along.

“Congratulations, Congressman.”

“Thanks, brother,” the phone rang and they were interrupted.

Tim walked towards the couches in front of the mirror, waiting for Pete. This is where it started.

“Where the hell is Palmeri?” he maintained the most cheerful tone he had to offer right now.

“Yeah, I thought he’d be here, watching his racehorse come in,” Peter joked, “He’s going away tomorrow, maybe he’s deciding which hundred suits to take.”

“And shoes to match,” it was almost concerning how easy lying and playing along came to him by now. Well, the company you keep and all. “What the hell does he do at his construction sites? Do they vacuum up before he gets there?”

“That’s if he ever gets there,” Tim almost felt bad for how quickly Peter was fessing up.

“Some piece of work.”

“Please, Timmy,” Timmy. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“How much do you know,” the nickname moved something in him. He just wanted this to be over quickly now. Get to the part where they could scream and fight, fuck pretend niceties.

“More than you,” clearly. “He’s got a hammerlock on a few union locals. You don’t run a carting company in the parts without John as your partner. His wife got a quote unquote ‘catering service’, nice contract, half the hospitals in the state. Bitch wouldn’t know Jell-o from Salisbury steak.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Pete. Me, I would be nervous,” getting dirt on Palmeri wasn’t enough. Peter had to implicate himself too.

“I can handle him. We got an arrangement,” he was draping himself over the couch in a way that would, under other circumstances, lead Tim’s mind astray. But right now, he was locked in. God, he felt like he was getting sick.

“Go along, get along?”

“He knows the parameters.”

“What if he wants to change them?” and now old, but genuine, concern revealed itself again. He will never stop fretting over Peter Burton it seemed.

“It’s not going to happen,” nonchalant as ever. “I’m not some puny local official taking envelopes from the guy.”

“What do you mean?” he was mad sure, and it certainly seeped through in his tone, but maybe this would finally end this.

And sure enough, Peter launched into a story. About threatening to burn down houses. Charming. But it was a story that both exposed the length Palmeri would go to and how much Peter knew that. And accepted it.

“Come on, drink up. I got a lot of people to thank,” was all he had to say as a follow up.

Now, the only thing that was left was how much Palmeri was funding Pete and how he would betray his position to pay him back, and then he could stop this charade. And with that line of questioning Peter caught on, finally.

“What is this?”

“What’s what?” his voice broke.

“What’s with all these questions about Palmeri? What’s with you not looking me in the eye?” the way he sounded, so sad, almost resigned, he knew, even if not consciously, he knew.

“Palmeri’s being arraigned right now. And they’re going to nail you for accepting illegal kickbacks, conspiracy and obstruction of justice.”

Peter laughed for a second, unbelieving, before it set in what Tim had done. He threw his drink and went over to Tim, clearly to brawl this out. But he was ready for his own confrontation.

“You set me up at Justice! Why did you do that to me?” because that was the one question left after all this. Why he did all the other stuff Tim knew, he might not fully understand, but they had explanations. Why Peter sold him out specifically, he couldn’t comprehend. Not after everything they’ve shared. Pete raked his eyes over his face, fixating on his lips in a hurtfully familiar way, though he seemed to realise that for the first time he couldn’t charm Tim. Not by those means anyway, so he chose the other familiar way. Lie.

“Fuck you! That’s a lie. I’ll deny it. I’ll deny we ever had this conversation.”

“Yes, we did. Say cheese,” he said, while pointing to the mirror. Peter threw the very bottle he won in his bet. The sign of his temporary victory exposing his downfall. And there it was, the camera happily recording away.

“Fuck you!” Pete threw them over the couch. “Come on, tell me about justice.”

Tim kicked him away and picked up the lamp next to him and aimed it at Pete’s head, but Pete easily deflected his attack.

“Tell me this has nothing to do with me getting Diana!” he grabbed Tim, turned them around, and went down, destroying the table they landed on.

It was a little about that, they both knew that much, “Tell me this isn’t about me coming out ahead of you!” that wasn’t the reason, because Tim never cared about getting ahead of anybody. Especially not Peter. But Peter was grasping, before he had to confront the actual reality. The thing that played the biggest part, next to the betrayal.

“Tell me this isn’t because I rejected you. Because we couldn’t be together. Because just fucking here and there, once in a while, was all I could give you. You know that wasn’t my fault! That’s just not how the world works!”

He hoisted him up and threw him against the wall. “You self-righteous son of a—” Tim punched him and was promptly thrown across the room. This was the first time his shorter statue actually bothered him, because Peter was frankly kicking his ass. Most evidently proven by how Peter was choking him out now. It was only a matter of time before the agents outside heard the commotion and busted through the door and Peter let go of him.

“Get out,” he told them. They weren’t finished yet.

While they sat there, panting, the severity of the situation set in. This was it. There was no coming back from what they did to each other. That open promise they sealed with a bloody kiss all those years ago was now closed.

“I’m sorry, what I did to you. I didn’t have any choice,” because he would never admit it, he hurt Tim out of his own free will. “I loved you and I couldn’t have hurt you like this, if I had a choice.”

“Of course, you had a choice,” Tim was exhausted. “And if you really loved me, you would’ve made a different one.”

“No, man. I got instinct and a few moves. Choice is for guys like you.”

“Diana married you and you chose to make her regret with everything that you had. Stiles took you under his wing and you chose to blackmail him. I was your friend… more than your friend. And you chose to betray me,” he waited until Peter actually looked at him, “You did this to yourself. Why?” he wouldn’t get an answer until they were already in the elevator, though before Peter pressed the button to go down.

“I needed more than you were able to give me. You or Diana or any one person.”

So there was no lover complete enough for Peter. Only cheering crowds and swarms of adoring sycophants would be enough for Peter Burton. The realization stung. Even more, when it set in that Peter believed this from the start. Every suggestion, every word muttered, every time he made it seem like they were doing something forbidden, because their love won out, it was part of this larger ploy. In retrospect it was obvious. Every time Peter showed vulnerability or Tim showed reluctance, seduction followed. Ever since that first, small kiss at the fateful New Years eve party. Peter got his in and he used it shamelessly.

Was all of it fake? Did he never love either of them? Not Diana or him? Was this never a choice between love and success, but a choice for success alone? When their eyes met in the elevator mirror Peter’s face gave nothing away. Tim would never know if he truly saw his eyes brimmed with tears or if that was only wishful thinking on his part.                                        

A couple months later, Peter Burton was standing on his front porch with palette of champagne. All the memories, good and bad, were flooding back. He wondered where they could’ve changed this outcome. Maybe if he stopped Pete from stabbing those tires, they could’ve lived happily by now.

Pete would not be sworn in despite winning, but the bet wasn’t completely lost apparently.

“But save a bottle of that champagne, alright? We’ll make it an ongoing bet. You know the old saying in Washington, Tim: There’s only two things that can wreck a man’s political career; getting caught with a live boy or a dead girl.”

“Don’t tell me you killed a girl as well,” they both laughed, despite knowing how close they’d come to having the most intimate part of their relationship exposed.

“Thanks, by the way. I know it was completely expunged from the record. You didn’t have to do that, you could’ve been kept anonymous, but you… thank you.”

“You deserve to go down for a lot, but not that. That doesn’t belong to them,” he was unsure if he could say the next part, until he said it. “It belongs to us. It’s the last thing we have left.”

“Yeah, it is,” he held the eye contact a little longer than necessary. Then he got into the car and the driver took off.

He didn’t know if he would ever see Peter Burton again. There was a chance though, no matter if he won or lost that next race. Tim certainly kept the bottle under tight lock.