[at first brush, it probably sounds like hell to someone like tim. caving to childish whims, letting himself to pretend to fall in line under the thumb of someone who would sooner crush him with it than nudge him in the right direction. to swallow not pride and ego - but the sense of honesty and honorability within him that makes tim so special, so unsusceptible to the usual entry level bullshit of georgetown politics and eventually washington's too. there's no way he's used to this kind of subterfuge, of compartmentalizing and knowing when to catch more flies with honey even when it's insincere before switching it back out with the vinegar. but here hawk can teach him - mould him between his hands in a way that won't betray his moral compass or his values and make him think he's gotta run off to confession at st. joseph's.
no - this is a necessary evil. and anyway, hawk wouldn't mind being the one to take his fall if push came to shove.
except he has faith in tim to pull this off. enough that he nods slow, lazily even as his eyes drag in a blatant once over as tim repeats the steps and understanding sinks in more ways than one. this isn't just about craig and conspiracy anymore - it's past decency. and maybe hawk is reminding himself that tim won't be his student much longer, not technically, and this is just...whatever residual, lingering thing between them working itself out. giving tim the inspiration he needs.]
That's right. And keep in mind - he drops the lowest two of your grades. This one, and maybe the next, because it won't happen overnight.
[the door is still ajar, and he knows what an enormous, colossal fucking risk this is. but it's been too gorgeous to be cooped up in here - his class is over, the afternoon is lazy dragging into dusk. no footsteps have echoed down the hall since he's been here besides tim's for the last hour. hawk pushes himself up from his chair, the slow gait of a predator narrowing in on its prey as he keeps one hand atop the desk's surface using it to balance the way the rest of his body swivels around it and slides between the space left by tim's chair and the back of the solid wood. both hands shift down, bracing against the arm rests as he bends at the waist, tipping his head quite clearly into tim's space so there is no pretending around his intent any longer.
(nor is there any way to ignore the way hawk's eyes drift shut for a moment, another soft inhale of sweat and that scent he'd chased on his pillows weeks ago.)
his eyes open again, and up close he can see the hint of a pretty brown beauty mark under tim's jaw, as tempting as a cool glass of water in the sweltering heat of this summer. what he wouldn't give to lower his lips to it, to drag tim up and taste it underneath his tongue.]
You are. And I'm the one telling you.
[his head angles again, tips as his eyes unmistakably lower to tim's lips before dragging back up deliberately.]
So you will.
Say it.
"I'm your boy, sir. I'll do it for you."
[and what happens when he's done with his mission? with the semester?
hawk can't let himself think about that right now. this is bad and tempting enough already, and he pulls back to rest himself in a seated position on the opposite side of the desk, hands bracing against it and legs elongating in front of tim to nudge leather oxfords against the tip of his worn shoes.]
no subject
no - this is a necessary evil. and anyway, hawk wouldn't mind being the one to take his fall if push came to shove.
except he has faith in tim to pull this off. enough that he nods slow, lazily even as his eyes drag in a blatant once over as tim repeats the steps and understanding sinks in more ways than one. this isn't just about craig and conspiracy anymore - it's past decency. and maybe hawk is reminding himself that tim won't be his student much longer, not technically, and this is just...whatever residual, lingering thing between them working itself out. giving tim the inspiration he needs.]
That's right. And keep in mind - he drops the lowest two of your grades. This one, and maybe the next, because it won't happen overnight.
[the door is still ajar, and he knows what an enormous, colossal fucking risk this is. but it's been too gorgeous to be cooped up in here - his class is over, the afternoon is lazy dragging into dusk. no footsteps have echoed down the hall since he's been here besides tim's for the last hour. hawk pushes himself up from his chair, the slow gait of a predator narrowing in on its prey as he keeps one hand atop the desk's surface using it to balance the way the rest of his body swivels around it and slides between the space left by tim's chair and the back of the solid wood. both hands shift down, bracing against the arm rests as he bends at the waist, tipping his head quite clearly into tim's space so there is no pretending around his intent any longer.
(nor is there any way to ignore the way hawk's eyes drift shut for a moment, another soft inhale of sweat and that scent he'd chased on his pillows weeks ago.)
his eyes open again, and up close he can see the hint of a pretty brown beauty mark under tim's jaw, as tempting as a cool glass of water in the sweltering heat of this summer. what he wouldn't give to lower his lips to it, to drag tim up and taste it underneath his tongue.]
You are. And I'm the one telling you.
[his head angles again, tips as his eyes unmistakably lower to tim's lips before dragging back up deliberately.]
So you will.
Say it.
"I'm your boy, sir. I'll do it for you."
[and what happens when he's done with his mission? with the semester?
hawk can't let himself think about that right now. this is bad and tempting enough already, and he pulls back to rest himself in a seated position on the opposite side of the desk, hands bracing against it and legs elongating in front of tim to nudge leather oxfords against the tip of his worn shoes.]