[they're not strangers. that's not what he meant - but if he knew how in his own head tim was right now, he wouldn't have made the joke and drawn attention to the fact that for all intents and purposes...for the last two weeks they may as well have been. and while on the surface hawk looks physically flawless - eyes bright, teeth pearly white when they flash in tim's direction with another wry smile, hair perfectly coiffed - it's the unseen that cut deeper. the lack of control he'd felt that day in this office, the impromptu trips both weekends to find an outlet, the way he'd slipped up and couldn't resist accosting tim outside of class - in the quad, the library, finding an excuse and letting it roll off the tongue as easily as any other lie he's told himself since december.
the loneliness was mutual. maybe he'd made a mistake - christ, he doesn't fucking know anymore. all he knows is that they've got a week and a half left of their time together, and he wants to savor it before everything he looks forward to is out of reach for good. which is exactly where it should be, and where it should stay. tim's the one with the dreams that belong in a greek myth - only this one is about the boy on his odyssey who starts from tragedy and manages to impress even the cruelest of gods and earn their favor.
hawk doesn't answer right away, leaning back comfortably into his chair and folding his hands atop his stomach with a slight shrug in response. there's a bit of amusement that seeps into his voice, mostly because this is all semantics and he knows tim will likely have something to say about it not having been made clear, not a proper wager. but maybe he'll see it for what it is: hawk laying himself bare in a way that doesn't overtly display his vulnerability, instead just an implicit understanding of i needed to see you where i could get you.]
The only rules were for you not to come by office hours. Any questions about your work were to be done in class. I didn't say anything about outside in the wild.
[but there he goes anyhow, and hawk can't help but smile because of course tim would never let such a thing slide. and of course - he'd want all of hawk's insight, because the inherent meaning of a job well done on the surface doesn't mean anything if he doesn't see how masterfully tim executed it. there's a cluck of his tongue, a quiet of course as he picks up the paper, casually lapsing into silence while trying not to feel the heat at his neck from the intensity of tim's gaze mixed with the slight distance and challenge in a way that's different than before. changed, somehow - not bad, better. making him feel a little off-footed, if he's honest.
and that's why the heat trickles slowly into an icy cold wash, a ringing in his ears as he starts reading about the pressures that very much are relatable to someone like hawk. to a gay man, older than tim by at least a decade - very much with a similar eye for pretty things. is this tim's way of saying he realizes what a sham hawk has been? what a conflict of interest he's had, crossing lines he never should have? he thought it had been both of them together - a mutual decision in this game they've been tiptoeing around, but there he was again not outlining any clear rules other than i don't fuck my students, as if that isn't riddled with opportunity to work around it. his jaw clenches, mouth thinning out into a hard line as he keeps reading and wondering -
ah. a false alarm. it's not about hawk, it's about craig, because of course it is. and craig was too vain and too stupid to even realize it.
the smile stretches wider again, eyes lifting as hawk flattens the paper against his desk once more to settle them on tim with a warm mixture of pride and relief wrapped up in that mask of confidence.]
Nice touch with the rent boy line.
[so that just leaves...
hawk puts his hands up, head dipping as he shakes it in mock exaggeration. he can bluff a little too, and he's man enough to admit where his cards are in this case now, even if tim is more guarded than he's used to. why wouldn't he be? it's only fair he'd expect the worst.]
Well, far be it from me to eat up any of your newfound freedom. But - if you're amenable - I was going to head out instead of staying cooped up in here all afternoon.
[tim is watching him with such an intent, it makes his own mask slip for just a moment, a softness in his eyes with a smile that's equal measures apprehensive at not knowing the answer and hopeful for them both.]
I'd like to take you to dinner to celebrate.
[it's not a date. not if he brings his paper and hawk brings his briefcase and a pen and they both take notes. it is not a date.]
no subject
the loneliness was mutual. maybe he'd made a mistake - christ, he doesn't fucking know anymore. all he knows is that they've got a week and a half left of their time together, and he wants to savor it before everything he looks forward to is out of reach for good. which is exactly where it should be, and where it should stay. tim's the one with the dreams that belong in a greek myth - only this one is about the boy on his odyssey who starts from tragedy and manages to impress even the cruelest of gods and earn their favor.
hawk doesn't answer right away, leaning back comfortably into his chair and folding his hands atop his stomach with a slight shrug in response. there's a bit of amusement that seeps into his voice, mostly because this is all semantics and he knows tim will likely have something to say about it not having been made clear, not a proper wager. but maybe he'll see it for what it is: hawk laying himself bare in a way that doesn't overtly display his vulnerability, instead just an implicit understanding of i needed to see you where i could get you.]
The only rules were for you not to come by office hours. Any questions about your work were to be done in class. I didn't say anything about outside in the wild.
[but there he goes anyhow, and hawk can't help but smile because of course tim would never let such a thing slide. and of course - he'd want all of hawk's insight, because the inherent meaning of a job well done on the surface doesn't mean anything if he doesn't see how masterfully tim executed it. there's a cluck of his tongue, a quiet of course as he picks up the paper, casually lapsing into silence while trying not to feel the heat at his neck from the intensity of tim's gaze mixed with the slight distance and challenge in a way that's different than before. changed, somehow - not bad, better. making him feel a little off-footed, if he's honest.
and that's why the heat trickles slowly into an icy cold wash, a ringing in his ears as he starts reading about the pressures that very much are relatable to someone like hawk. to a gay man, older than tim by at least a decade - very much with a similar eye for pretty things. is this tim's way of saying he realizes what a sham hawk has been? what a conflict of interest he's had, crossing lines he never should have? he thought it had been both of them together - a mutual decision in this game they've been tiptoeing around, but there he was again not outlining any clear rules other than i don't fuck my students, as if that isn't riddled with opportunity to work around it. his jaw clenches, mouth thinning out into a hard line as he keeps reading and wondering -
ah. a false alarm. it's not about hawk, it's about craig, because of course it is. and craig was too vain and too stupid to even realize it.
the smile stretches wider again, eyes lifting as hawk flattens the paper against his desk once more to settle them on tim with a warm mixture of pride and relief wrapped up in that mask of confidence.]
Nice touch with the rent boy line.
[so that just leaves...
hawk puts his hands up, head dipping as he shakes it in mock exaggeration. he can bluff a little too, and he's man enough to admit where his cards are in this case now, even if tim is more guarded than he's used to. why wouldn't he be? it's only fair he'd expect the worst.]
Well, far be it from me to eat up any of your newfound freedom. But - if you're amenable - I was going to head out instead of staying cooped up in here all afternoon.
[tim is watching him with such an intent, it makes his own mask slip for just a moment, a softness in his eyes with a smile that's equal measures apprehensive at not knowing the answer and hopeful for them both.]
I'd like to take you to dinner to celebrate.
[it's not a date. not if he brings his paper and hawk brings his briefcase and a pen and they both take notes. it is not a date.]