You're more like a Apollo than you think. A god with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the heat of the sun at his back, the music of the world weaving the path at his feet and a bow with a quiver of arrows - prepared to protect the herd should he have to. He paved the way for new civilizations and foundations to be borne. The sun, incarnate.
[ he sounds so foolish, saying it out loud, but he believes it. when he looks at hawk, he shines bright, burns with an infinite sort of confidence that tim could only hope to have a piece of one day. and maybe there's much playacting to his day-to-day, but how else could a god move through the world, untouched, when one is as coveted as the sun?
but hawk mentions something top secret and tim leans in, eager and surprised, brows raised. there's a softness in hawk now that is utterly alluring - his eyes gentler, the pull of his lips in a sweetness that tim isn't certain he's seen on him before. it's remarkable - breathtaking.
but there it is.
tim would be utterly oblivious and stupid if he hadn't started piecing together the reality of skippy and tim laughlin. if he hadn't realized that hawk had begun to imagine what the face on the lewd cam boy might look like. he'd considered it - what with the heat that has radiated through them this summer, all the way back to the way hawk had started in december.
but to hear it had blended even long before that? well, that's a surprise. the sort of surprise that, should hawk peek into the deep vee of his unbuttoned shirt, he may see that even the skin dusted with downy soft curls between his pecs has flushed. every bit of him feels as though it is consumed by the flames of the sun.
it's foolish, the way he drops the bread and that hand reaches for hawk's again, the skirting of the thumb hadn't been enough before and maybe he's just like icarus now, too bold and headstrong and stubborn, but he clasps the whole of his hand this time, squeezing. ]
We weren't fucked up. [ and he believes it, really. how could something like this be a mistake? sure, there are better circumstances that could have come out of it, but a dinner date like this, with fondness and warmth? tim's heart feels like it might burst for the romance of it all. ]
I... I don't mind this. All of this. I understand it all now better than I did before, and maybe it's stupid to say it, but I'd take a million more of these than anything I thought was going to happen before. In December. [ a huff, sheepish, and the flush burns hotter. he looks away a little, nose wrinkling, mouth pulling to one side. ]
I mean - when I thought it was going to be someone else. I want to be near you. Talk to you. Spend time with you. And maybe it's just in your office or lectures but I don't know. Meeting you and being able to be honest with you is one of the most important things I think I've ever experienced.
[ what would it be like, were he not afraid of holding this man's hand even now, if he could lean over and kiss him? if he could tug him up and insist they spend an evening out under the stars or dancing or... anything? ]
I know maybe it doesn't seem like it, but I really do care. About you.
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[ he sounds so foolish, saying it out loud, but he believes it. when he looks at hawk, he shines bright, burns with an infinite sort of confidence that tim could only hope to have a piece of one day. and maybe there's much playacting to his day-to-day, but how else could a god move through the world, untouched, when one is as coveted as the sun?
but hawk mentions something top secret and tim leans in, eager and surprised, brows raised. there's a softness in hawk now that is utterly alluring - his eyes gentler, the pull of his lips in a sweetness that tim isn't certain he's seen on him before. it's remarkable - breathtaking.
but there it is.
tim would be utterly oblivious and stupid if he hadn't started piecing together the reality of skippy and tim laughlin. if he hadn't realized that hawk had begun to imagine what the face on the lewd cam boy might look like. he'd considered it - what with the heat that has radiated through them this summer, all the way back to the way hawk had started in december.
but to hear it had blended even long before that? well, that's a surprise. the sort of surprise that, should hawk peek into the deep vee of his unbuttoned shirt, he may see that even the skin dusted with downy soft curls between his pecs has flushed. every bit of him feels as though it is consumed by the flames of the sun.
it's foolish, the way he drops the bread and that hand reaches for hawk's again, the skirting of the thumb hadn't been enough before and maybe he's just like icarus now, too bold and headstrong and stubborn, but he clasps the whole of his hand this time, squeezing. ]
We weren't fucked up. [ and he believes it, really. how could something like this be a mistake? sure, there are better circumstances that could have come out of it, but a dinner date like this, with fondness and warmth? tim's heart feels like it might burst for the romance of it all. ]
I... I don't mind this. All of this. I understand it all now better than I did before, and maybe it's stupid to say it, but I'd take a million more of these than anything I thought was going to happen before. In December. [ a huff, sheepish, and the flush burns hotter. he looks away a little, nose wrinkling, mouth pulling to one side. ]
I mean - when I thought it was going to be someone else. I want to be near you. Talk to you. Spend time with you. And maybe it's just in your office or lectures but I don't know. Meeting you and being able to be honest with you is one of the most important things I think I've ever experienced.
[ what would it be like, were he not afraid of holding this man's hand even now, if he could lean over and kiss him? if he could tug him up and insist they spend an evening out under the stars or dancing or... anything? ]
I know maybe it doesn't seem like it, but I really do care. About you.