Chapter Text
“You’ve been looking at this statue for a long time,” observed a low voice from behind him.
Timmy flinched. Who the hell would creep up on someone like that? He turned around slowly, pulse racing as he imagined a number of headlines making the news the next day – ‘American tourist missing’, ‘Stupid boy engages with a stranger in the park, later found hacked into pieces’. Who he saw standing on the other side of the wrought iron fence, however, made him nervous for a whole different reason. Timmy pulled his sleeves over his hands, feeling self-conscious.
The man seemed surprised as he peered at Timmy. Normally a man that gorgeous would have Timmy running the opposite direction, but something about the man’s piercing gaze kept him rooted to the spot. Trouble was, Timmy couldn’t hold the man’s gaze long enough to be normal about it, which made the whole thing ten times more awkward if you asked him.
The man cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He sounded apologetic, hand scrubbing the back of his neck. “I was just curious.” He stepped into the enclosure, getting a closer look at the statue and keeping himself a ways away from Timmy.
He had an American accent, Timmy noticed, which was much less embarrassing than if a local made the same comment. Timmy couldn’t help the way his eyes moved across the man’s back, then lower and lower down his track pants as the man started circling the statue, the same thing Timmy had done numerous times in the last fifteen minutes. He tore his eyes away, afraid he’d get caught, and looked towards the young boy’s face carved in bronze. “Oh umm. I guess I wanted to see it in person.”
He felt his cheeks growing hot from the admission. He had no idea how he ended up there. The statue, the beautiful gardens it was set in weren’t included in any top ten guides he’d researched online for first time visitors and it definitely wasn’t on his list either. Yet, a memory had come to him earlier after the group had finished their meal and he couldn’t resist the idea of seeing it. They were all walking back to the hotel, intending to rest before the evening festivities, when Timmy decided to go off on his own.
“Big fan?”
“Yeah you could say that.”
The man grinned. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
He didn’t want the man to get the wrong impression, but he also didn’t want him to know the real reason he was there. Timmy shook his head…it wasn’t like he’d ever see the man again, so he figured temporary embarrassment wouldn’t kill him. “I’m not actually a fan per se. Not of him… or Wendy or the Lost Boys.”
“No?”
“Fuck I’m going to sound so stupid…”
The man shook his head, “Impossible.”
Was he flirting?
“Tell me…”
Timmy sighed. “Well, there was a movie I watched when I was kid. It was about a group of American teeneagers who went to London for a Model UN conference.”
“Mmmhmm.”
Timmy was blushing furiously. “OK, it was a chick flick my sister made me watch, like… I had no say on the matter. But, I remember thinking those red double-deckers looked so cool, and the Queen’s Guard were ridiculous and funny and I remembered wanting to see London for myself one day.”
“That’s not stupid.”
Timmy bit his lip. “This statue is where two of the characters make up at the end of the movie.”
“Ahh.”
“I told you it was stupid,” he mumbled.
When the man didn’t say anything, he looked up, expecting ridicule or at least disinterest, but he found nothing but soft, kind eyes, crinkled at the corners.
The man came a little closer. “I think it’s sweet.”
Timmy crossed his arms, uncomfortable with the attention, with the way the man was looking at him like he was into Timmy.
An alert on the man’s smartwatch beeped loudly, surprising them both and the man cursed. “I’m sorry, much as I want to keep talking to you about that movie and… everything else…” he laughed, “I have to get back.”
Timmy nodded. “Yeah, sure of course. Umm. Goodbye then.” Timmy ducked his head.
“Goodbye,” the man said quietly.
Timmy watched as the man left the enclosure, jogging down the path that led to the exit of the park, until he rounded a corner and Timmy couldn’t see him anymore. He groaned…what the fuck was that?
He circled the statue one last time, of the ‘boy who never grew up’, admiring the fairies and woodland creatures carved underneath the boy’s feet. He had felt lonely before, when he arrived at the Peter Pan statue, wishing someone was there to share it with him, but he no longer felt that way and he realized it was because he did end up sharing the moment with someone. A perfect stranger, but still…someone. He smiled and decided he’d had enough and headed down the opposite path towards the Serpentine.
- - -
🗽Winslows
Jesse: Timmy! Where are you?
Sharon: The bus is leaving soon! You’re going to miss it if you’re not here in five minutes.
Jas: I can try asking them to wait a little bit.
*Timmy is typing…*
(Fuck, fuck, fuck. Timmy lost track of time.)
Timmy: It’s okay, I’ll take a cab and meet you there.
Jesse: You know they rented out a double-decker for us right?
(Timmy felt a pang in his gut. He couldn’t believe he was going to miss out on that.)
Sharon: Don’t be mean Jesse, they’ll probably bus us back to the hotel after.
(Timmy sighed in relief, he really hoped they would.)
Timmy: Urghh, I’m ten minutes away, I’ll be quick getting ready though.
Jesse: 😂
Timmy: I will!
- - -
When Timmy arrived back at the hotel, out of breath, sweaty from the almost-run he did, he barreled through his room, forcing himself to move as quickly as possible. His hands shook as he started the shower, feeling rushed beyond his comfort level, and started scrubbing at his hair, pushing images of the man in the tracksuit far, far from his mind, because god knows rubbing one out was the last thing he had time for.
He must’ve broken a personal record, when not five minutes later, he toweled off and started dressing. He slipped on a dark green velvet blazer over a simple black button down shirt and black slacks. He styled his hair so that it wasn’t a tangled mess and applied some lip balm, smacking his lips together, while he whirled around in search of shoes.
Timmy looked frantically around but couldn’t find his dress shoes anywhere, until he spotted a few pairs he threw around earlier grouped together by the corner of the room. He bent down and found a note lying on top.
Can you keep your shoes to your side please? Thanks.
Timmy stared at the note in disbelief. Who touches other people’s shoes? His roommate was long gone by the looks of it, but signs that he was there were evident by a garment bag hanging neatly in the closet and shopping bags lined in a row on the desk.
What a douche, Timmy thought. He shook his head and crumpled up the note, throwing it on the opposite bed before he slipped on his dress shoes and dug out his invitation to the gala dinner. The front desk called a cab for him not too long after.
When the cabbie arrived, he asked Timmy, “Where to, Sir?”
“Victoria and Albert Museum, please.”
“Oh who do we have here? Come in, come in, don’t be shy.”
Armie was glad for the interruption. Stuart had droned on and on in that dry tone of his for what seemed like hours and Armie felt like kissing whoever it was who disrupted their CEO in the middle of his speech.
He looked towards the entrance, but the gallery was lit in a low blue light, so that he couldn’t really make out the figure at first. Then a spotlight suddenly came on, illuminating the new arrival at the bottom of the staircase.
Laughter erupted in the galley but Armie sat very still, not making a sound. He was stunned for a second time that afternoon. By the same person. He couldn’t believe his eyes or his luck. He had been in a weird mood the last couple of hours, and had ended up throwing all his roommate’s shoes in the corner of their room in a fit of frustration, most definitely over the fact that maybe he should’ve asked the guy at the park for his number. So, seeing the guy again, realizing he was a colleague, made Armie feel completely overwhelmed.
Armie watched as the guy made an awkward hand wave to the room, half his body angling for the staircase. Armie chuckled quietly to himself. The nervous thing probably wanted to bolt, the same way he did this afternoon. The room cheered as the boy practically ran towards a table in the back, a group of his friends waving him over.
[“Alright…where was I? Oh yes, what we need to do now is to all work together towards…”]
Armie didn’t hear a word Stuart was saying, instead, his eyes were glued to the table where the boy sat. Over the top of his glass, he watched the boy fidgeting with the cutlery on the table as he sipped his water. He gripped the glass tightly in hands, setting it down rather forcefully when he saw the man sitting next to him whispering in his ear, throwing an arm over his shoulder.
He felt a nudge on his arm.
“Armie.”
He found Sam, from their Luxury and Lifestyle division looking unimpressed.
“What?” he asked, annoyed.
“You’re up.”
Armie swore under his breath, but put on a big, gracious smile on his face and went to work, determined to get this speech out as quickly and painlessly as possible.
[“Please welcome to the stage, Senior Vice President of Development for the Americas… Armie Hammer!”]
He accepted the mic from Stuart, who gave him a firm pat on the back and he spoke to the somewhat captive audience, “can we give another big round of applause for our fearless leader, Mr Stuart Thompson?!” Everyone cheered as the old man left the stage, and once the applause subsided, he knew he had everyone’s attention. He tried his best to mimic Paul as imagined by Raphael, hung not fifteen feet away from him on the wall of the gallery and began his sermon.
“Alright, I’m sure you’re all looking forward to dinner right now, so I’ll make this super quick. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Armie Hammer and I am here to talk to you about what the future looks like for Winslow. We’ve had a couple of hard years there, I know, but I gotta tell you, with what we have planned, our company will emerge stronger and better than before. Let me show you.”
He gestured to the AV technician and moved off to the side as a video began playing on the giant screen behind him. Everyone in the room fell quiet, focused on the brilliant presentation his team put together for him back home but Armie knew that one pair of eyes were focused on him instead. He had felt those eyes boring into him since he came on stage. It took everything in him not to turn around and return the gaze. He had a job to do. But after… yes, after, he’ll have to find the boy and pry that dickhead’s arm off of him.