I think you should know by now - I'm not the sort of man to say things just because they're kind.
[it's utterly endearing to watch the ebb and flow of tim's confidence - the conviction in which he shares his compliments followed by the fidgeting of his hands, something hawk has noticed he doesn't do as much out of seeming nerves when he's in the safe space afforded by office hours. fiddling with a pencil, scrunching himself into various degrees of comfort, sure - but this is uncharted territory. it draws back to what hawk has always thought of him: he's sweet. genuine, in a way that so many people can't or refuse to be. hell, he's more sincere than hawk even is on a good day. living in his truths, standing up and fighting for the things he believes in, even if they are theoretical for the most part. no wonder that edge of heat surrounded him when he was across a screen - comfortable in his own skin and seeking out connection with a stranger who he thought was just as honest in desire.
that still might be the only open place hawk's really ever been himself, which sounds pretty depressing when he thinks of it that way. not beautiful. not brave or honest - and definitely not the way he's ever wooed anyone else before. there's been no one to do it with, certainly not the men he drags to motels for a few hours of raw physicality and kicks out or abandons before the high has even come down. tim is the first - not even kenny got him like this.
hawk watches the tinge of a blush rise up to his cheeks, spreading red across his ears and faintly down his neck. absently, it occurs to him he's never tested what it is that makes it run full body under less salacious conditions. it's not pathetic watching him react to it, only proving what hawk said to be true by immediately deeming himself not worthy of such a nickname. it's the other part he can believe - that no one else has said as much, and it shouldn't startle him nearly as much when he feels the soft press of fingers against his own hand.
it's intimate in a way that catches him wholly off guard, tamping down hard on the instinct to pull away and glance around at the rest of the patrons here. they're far outside the bounds of campus. just another couple having a romantic dinner, and hawk exhales softly, letting his thumb reach up to stroke over tim's knuckles and squeeze back. strange, the way he feels a pang of regret the moment they pull away and reach again for the bread. hawk smiles, tipping his attention back down to his wine glass while listening to the tale of angry greek gods, a boy with ambition shooting for the sun and landing among the stars instead from the mercy of the one who saw him for what he was.
very apt indeed.]
I'd rather hear it right from you. But you're right - Icarus...it does suit you.
I'm no Apollo, but watching you soar has been one of the greatest privileges of my career. And -
[hawk stares intently at him, that unmistakable fondness softening the line of his mouth and jaw - even his eyes have lost the iciness of ocean blue.]
Now, this is top secret. Doesn't leave this restaurant - you can tuck it away however you like, you got it?
[he picks up his wine again, taking another sip and swallowing thickly before leaning in and dropping his voice to a murmur.]
Tim Laughlin and my sweet Icarus started blending together in my eyes long before Christmas came along and fucked us up.
no subject
[it's utterly endearing to watch the ebb and flow of tim's confidence - the conviction in which he shares his compliments followed by the fidgeting of his hands, something hawk has noticed he doesn't do as much out of seeming nerves when he's in the safe space afforded by office hours. fiddling with a pencil, scrunching himself into various degrees of comfort, sure - but this is uncharted territory. it draws back to what hawk has always thought of him: he's sweet. genuine, in a way that so many people can't or refuse to be. hell, he's more sincere than hawk even is on a good day. living in his truths, standing up and fighting for the things he believes in, even if they are theoretical for the most part. no wonder that edge of heat surrounded him when he was across a screen - comfortable in his own skin and seeking out connection with a stranger who he thought was just as honest in desire.
that still might be the only open place hawk's really ever been himself, which sounds pretty depressing when he thinks of it that way. not beautiful. not brave or honest - and definitely not the way he's ever wooed anyone else before. there's been no one to do it with, certainly not the men he drags to motels for a few hours of raw physicality and kicks out or abandons before the high has even come down. tim is the first - not even kenny got him like this.
hawk watches the tinge of a blush rise up to his cheeks, spreading red across his ears and faintly down his neck. absently, it occurs to him he's never tested what it is that makes it run full body under less salacious conditions. it's not pathetic watching him react to it, only proving what hawk said to be true by immediately deeming himself not worthy of such a nickname. it's the other part he can believe - that no one else has said as much, and it shouldn't startle him nearly as much when he feels the soft press of fingers against his own hand.
it's intimate in a way that catches him wholly off guard, tamping down hard on the instinct to pull away and glance around at the rest of the patrons here. they're far outside the bounds of campus. just another couple having a romantic dinner, and hawk exhales softly, letting his thumb reach up to stroke over tim's knuckles and squeeze back. strange, the way he feels a pang of regret the moment they pull away and reach again for the bread. hawk smiles, tipping his attention back down to his wine glass while listening to the tale of angry greek gods, a boy with ambition shooting for the sun and landing among the stars instead from the mercy of the one who saw him for what he was.
very apt indeed.]
I'd rather hear it right from you. But you're right - Icarus...it does suit you.
I'm no Apollo, but watching you soar has been one of the greatest privileges of my career. And -
[hawk stares intently at him, that unmistakable fondness softening the line of his mouth and jaw - even his eyes have lost the iciness of ocean blue.]
Now, this is top secret. Doesn't leave this restaurant - you can tuck it away however you like, you got it?
[he picks up his wine again, taking another sip and swallowing thickly before leaning in and dropping his voice to a murmur.]
Tim Laughlin and my sweet Icarus started blending together in my eyes long before Christmas came along and fucked us up.