[two and a half weeks without tim laughlin in his office is hell on earth.
it should scare hawk how easily he'd become a permanent fixture, the highlight of his entire day to see the mop of brunette hair and dark-rimmed glasses over darker eyelashes framing those sweet brown eyes - to watch him contort himself into that chair and balance his pens above his lips or chew at the tips in concentration while debating him on the complex inner workings of the senate, foreign policy, ambassadors, and everything in between. somewhere along the way it became more than that - the conversations turning from strictly business to an easy sort of camaraderie that filled his own otherwise somewhat lonely time on campus and a hole he didn't even realize was there until it was too late.
it hadn't been meant as a punishment for either of them, and yet as the days drag on near ceaselessly hawk wonders if tim is feeling the same way or if this is yet another mark that he's in over his head if he doesn't knock this shit off. there's a part of him that knows this is the way it should be - that he needs to get used to the familiarity of his life without the boy that somehow managed to capture his mind and his attention for the better part of the last two years. there are nights he lays awake during those two weeks wondering why he'd decided to chip away even more time he should be relishing before tim moves on to bigger and better things - knowing he's destined to soar, hoping maybe at least part of what he's done helping him flourish has given the boy the tools to craft wings that won't melt in the sun this time. fighting the temptation, letting it cool between them - that's the smart play.
because whatever that flirtation had been...what would have happened if he'd claimed some sort of reward? the look on tim's face, the near disappointment in his response that day had made hawk think twice. maybe he'd been the one to push it too far if the few attempts at initiating stolen contact were anything to go by - moments in the library where he'd showed up unannounced, or in the quad, embarrassingly stopped in his tracks to see the one person he'd somehow managed to isolate and push away. even then the conversation had been stiff and strictly professional - none of their usual banter, not even a wry smile or a slight entendre. hawk isn't stupid enough to think that all his time spent with craig is what's responsible for this sudden shift in their dynamic - even when the man himself drops by to ask what he's done to put the fear of god into the kid and brag that he's whipping him into shape. if only he fucking knew.
his weekends are spent out of town in a desperate frenzy to pump his dick into a warm body and have quick, brutal fucks that relieve nothing at the root of what keeps him up at night and has him surrendering to his own hand more often than not.
it's better this way. it's the responsible thing to do for them both. they need to get used to it sooner rather than later - hawk and tim together a bright spot in each other's passing journeys, now at the crossroads where tim will exceed him in all ways and hawk will watch it with pleasure. and maybe someday when his student is giving impassioned speeches in the news, or rallying his fellow countrymen in the house chambers - he'll stop and think back fondly on his time at georgetown with a man who encouraged the best in him for one fleeting moment.
exams are a week out and hawk is knee-deep in putting together study guides when there's a voice that stops his pen mid-scribble, has him glancing over at the door wondering why tim doesn't just come in with the good news. it has to be good news if he's here, doesn't it? instead tim looks skittish, a stark callback to the early weeks where his confidence had been crushed and hawk had to coax him back into himself. had craig really crushed his spirit that much? this had been meant to be a fun game of subterfuge, a triumphant moment for tim to conquer a common dislike and privately laugh about it here in hawk's office between warm glances and the verbal praise he'd been happy to start doling out. instead, they feel somehow like - ]
Hey there, stranger. Don't be shy, come on in.
[his own confidence is a practiced piece of the carefully constructed mask, even if doubt itches underneath every inch of his skin. he gestures to the chair, eyes warm and a soft pull of his lips that he hopes are encouraging for tim to at least come back out of his shell. and if he doesn't?
christ.]
I've got all the time in the world for you, Laughlin. Always.
[his hands fold atop the desk as he watches tim slink in, eyes dropping to the paper clutched between his hands. is he laying it on too thick? too distant? it always feels like one step forward, two steps back - and part of him thinks it shouldn't be nearly this complicated to figure out a boy who wears his heart on his sleeve more often than not. but that's what he's been teaching him to forgo, and hawkins fuller does it better than anyone. too good, if this is the result.]
Let's see what you've got, huh?
[he waits for tim to slide the paper over, waiting quietly until he takes in the a- stamped across the top. his gaze drags up slowly, unreadable for a moment before he lets all the pride flood into the dazzling smile and glittering shimmer of his eyes.]
Well, well. Looks like congratulations are in order.
[hawk pauses, searching his face for any hint of that simmer they've both dampened, knowing it should stay that way. that he's playing with fire if he brings it up to a boil again.
and yet - ]
Nice to welcome back my boy. You've been sorely missed.
no subject
it should scare hawk how easily he'd become a permanent fixture, the highlight of his entire day to see the mop of brunette hair and dark-rimmed glasses over darker eyelashes framing those sweet brown eyes - to watch him contort himself into that chair and balance his pens above his lips or chew at the tips in concentration while debating him on the complex inner workings of the senate, foreign policy, ambassadors, and everything in between. somewhere along the way it became more than that - the conversations turning from strictly business to an easy sort of camaraderie that filled his own otherwise somewhat lonely time on campus and a hole he didn't even realize was there until it was too late.
it hadn't been meant as a punishment for either of them, and yet as the days drag on near ceaselessly hawk wonders if tim is feeling the same way or if this is yet another mark that he's in over his head if he doesn't knock this shit off. there's a part of him that knows this is the way it should be - that he needs to get used to the familiarity of his life without the boy that somehow managed to capture his mind and his attention for the better part of the last two years. there are nights he lays awake during those two weeks wondering why he'd decided to chip away even more time he should be relishing before tim moves on to bigger and better things - knowing he's destined to soar, hoping maybe at least part of what he's done helping him flourish has given the boy the tools to craft wings that won't melt in the sun this time. fighting the temptation, letting it cool between them - that's the smart play.
because whatever that flirtation had been...what would have happened if he'd claimed some sort of reward? the look on tim's face, the near disappointment in his response that day had made hawk think twice. maybe he'd been the one to push it too far if the few attempts at initiating stolen contact were anything to go by - moments in the library where he'd showed up unannounced, or in the quad, embarrassingly stopped in his tracks to see the one person he'd somehow managed to isolate and push away. even then the conversation had been stiff and strictly professional - none of their usual banter, not even a wry smile or a slight entendre. hawk isn't stupid enough to think that all his time spent with craig is what's responsible for this sudden shift in their dynamic - even when the man himself drops by to ask what he's done to put the fear of god into the kid and brag that he's whipping him into shape. if only he fucking knew.
his weekends are spent out of town in a desperate frenzy to pump his dick into a warm body and have quick, brutal fucks that relieve nothing at the root of what keeps him up at night and has him surrendering to his own hand more often than not.
it's better this way. it's the responsible thing to do for them both. they need to get used to it sooner rather than later - hawk and tim together a bright spot in each other's passing journeys, now at the crossroads where tim will exceed him in all ways and hawk will watch it with pleasure. and maybe someday when his student is giving impassioned speeches in the news, or rallying his fellow countrymen in the house chambers - he'll stop and think back fondly on his time at georgetown with a man who encouraged the best in him for one fleeting moment.
exams are a week out and hawk is knee-deep in putting together study guides when there's a voice that stops his pen mid-scribble, has him glancing over at the door wondering why tim doesn't just come in with the good news. it has to be good news if he's here, doesn't it? instead tim looks skittish, a stark callback to the early weeks where his confidence had been crushed and hawk had to coax him back into himself. had craig really crushed his spirit that much? this had been meant to be a fun game of subterfuge, a triumphant moment for tim to conquer a common dislike and privately laugh about it here in hawk's office between warm glances and the verbal praise he'd been happy to start doling out. instead, they feel somehow like - ]
Hey there, stranger. Don't be shy, come on in.
[his own confidence is a practiced piece of the carefully constructed mask, even if doubt itches underneath every inch of his skin. he gestures to the chair, eyes warm and a soft pull of his lips that he hopes are encouraging for tim to at least come back out of his shell. and if he doesn't?
christ.]
I've got all the time in the world for you, Laughlin. Always.
[his hands fold atop the desk as he watches tim slink in, eyes dropping to the paper clutched between his hands. is he laying it on too thick? too distant? it always feels like one step forward, two steps back - and part of him thinks it shouldn't be nearly this complicated to figure out a boy who wears his heart on his sleeve more often than not. but that's what he's been teaching him to forgo, and hawkins fuller does it better than anyone. too good, if this is the result.]
Let's see what you've got, huh?
[he waits for tim to slide the paper over, waiting quietly until he takes in the a- stamped across the top. his gaze drags up slowly, unreadable for a moment before he lets all the pride flood into the dazzling smile and glittering shimmer of his eyes.]
Well, well. Looks like congratulations are in order.
[hawk pauses, searching his face for any hint of that simmer they've both dampened, knowing it should stay that way. that he's playing with fire if he brings it up to a boil again.
and yet - ]
Nice to welcome back my boy. You've been sorely missed.