Suddenly, Tim remembers why he didn't do this sooner. It's the talking he gets hung up on. Because in his experience 'can we talk?' doesn't usually lead to good things. Even when it's been followed by 'I feel the same way.' He's waiting for the but. There's always a but.

Why the fuck would it be any different with Matt?

He's tempted to leave. To cut this all off before it could go south, like he should've done months and months ago. That's what he should do now, but clearly, he's not very good at doing what he should do. He's only good at doing what's inevitably going to hurt him. Self-destructive in a way that apparently isn't entirely physical. He'll cut himself on Matt, sooner or later. Probably sooner.

'I feel the same way,' should fill him with relief, but instead there's dread starting to sink in. Just waiting for the punchline. It doesn't stop him from stepping a little closer still, until he can find Matt's hand. The other's fingers are awfully warm in his own, probably an indication that he's colder than he realizes. But he doesn't care.

"Yeah," he says, almost soft enough to be drown out by the sound of the rain outside. "Okay."