Sign

Bernard wants a sign.

Tim is his best friend, and the last thing he wants to do is jeopardize that, but he thinks he's also more than a little in love with Tim. And so he wants a sign. He wants to know if he can take it to the next level, or if Tim will freak out in that silent, Timmish way if he tries. But Tim is impossible to read. Even when he's making an effort to show everything, he doesn't make any more motion than he has to. His face remains a near-mask which shows exactly as much or as little as he wants it to even when he's surprised. And Tim would never make the first move, even if he was interested. Bernard decides to make his move.

Tim's tutoring him again, leaning over Bernard's textbook and explaining some concept (Bernard has no idea what it is, all he can think of is Tim), and Bernard leans over and kisses him. Tim's lips taste like the energy bars he eats instead of normal food (they're specially made to be a balanced diet even if they're the only food eaten, Tim insists), but they don't open. Bernard makes a sad noise and pulls away, and Tim's sitting there, eyes wide, staring at him, and he just knows Tim's about to freak out and never talk to him again.

"Sorry," He mutters, looking anywhere but at Tim. "Sorry, I thought-"

And then he doesn't say anything at all, because Tim's on him, holding his shoulders in a grip so strong he thinks it'll leave bruises, and kissing him fiercely and thoroughly, like he's trying to map the inside of Bernard's mouth, and making needy little sounds that if Bernard hadn't heard he never would have believed Tim could make.

They never do return to the tutoring that evening.