[flattering, that tim thinks any part of him is as strong as the will of a god, blazing a trail of his own design. there are things he's fought for the freedom of, sure - leaving his family and barely looking back, going into teaching, but at his core? hawk still conforms to what's expected of him in the day to day. he encourages ideals and challenging the status quo in the impressionable young minds of the future, and if tim wants to call it shaping civilizations and foundations then sure. but he doesn't live them himself, and the part of him that isn't jaded and used to living in the realities of the world feels like there's no such thing as living that free - not when you're in this deep. not with the sun beating down on his back every day, the expectations of everyone else perched on his shoulders no matter how far he's run from them. not unless life is to be lived like tim laughlin - fighting for every bit of it, wanting it for his fellow men and women too. no wonder apollo admired him from afar, elevated him where he belonged even if the path wasn't quite so simple.
but tim believes in him, and that means something too - even if he doesn't know the truth about hawk, he's seen more than his own mother in this last year and some change. not even dean smith could comment on the glimpses of hawk he's offered to this boy, and it makes his chest go warm again even as he shrugs lightly.]
I want whatever your future civilization is gonna look like. And if I had a single hand in it, then I've got a lot to be proud of.
[hawkins fuller isn't a humble man, not by any means. but he can't take credit for moulding what was already there - helping him realize his full potential.
but yeah - selfishly he wants to see how that lands on tim, and he isn't disappointed. not by the way that light flush creeps down his strong neck, teases him with the flash of his chest here and there that makes hawk want to leave now and drive off into the fading golden hour, to stretch tim across the hood of his car and see what it looks like under the same sun that seems to wish it might caress icarus without a burn as much as hawk does.
the softness of his palm lands against his own, fingers flexing gently as hawk returns the soft gesture with a stretch of his lips that doesn't quite meet his eyes this time.]
We ended up here, in the end.
Don't know that I'd do any of it differently, if I could - not when I'm sitting with someone I respect more than anyone I've known in the last five years like this.
[hawk's thumb shifts, running lightly over the back of his hand with an easy tenderness as his gaze drops to watch it while tim looks away. god, he shouldn't get used to this. this in and of itself - it's probably a one time thing. not just for the optics, but because tim is destined for the capitol itself. he's going to be rubbing shoulders with washington's elite, stirring them up in a way that's going to draw both ire and admiration from many. but his undeniable sweetness and the feisty way he manages to capture the hearts of everyone, even fucking craig lever - that's what hawk knows will be true.
that's why he knows eventually this will all be a distant memory, a hazy recollection of youthful summers and a stolen moment. hell, maybe he won't even remember any of it someday. and hawk will still be at georgetown, still hiding himself, still living his double life and watching the next generation of minds pass him by. just growing older. doesn't that sound fucking pathetic. his lips drop for a moment, a pulse in his jaw and he considers voicing any of it before immediately pushing that down. he's not going to ruin this moment for tim.]
Won't be the same without you around, you know. One more week and you're wrapping it up, focusing on the last few requirements next year, and then graduation - and then off to the Big House, if I know you.
[he offers a grin that's meant to be conspiratorial, encouraging and warm.]
I know. And Skippy - you should know how much I care about you too. Too fucking much, if we're measuring solely by the Georgetown Code of Conduct.
But we're not in Georgetown right now.
[his hand squeezes again, and if tim looks closely maybe he'll see the note of something raw in hawk's gaze.]
So here I get to tell you there never was and never will be anyone else like you, you got that?
The restaurant, my office, the sessions - all of it.
no subject
but tim believes in him, and that means something too - even if he doesn't know the truth about hawk, he's seen more than his own mother in this last year and some change. not even dean smith could comment on the glimpses of hawk he's offered to this boy, and it makes his chest go warm again even as he shrugs lightly.]
I want whatever your future civilization is gonna look like. And if I had a single hand in it, then I've got a lot to be proud of.
[hawkins fuller isn't a humble man, not by any means. but he can't take credit for moulding what was already there - helping him realize his full potential.
but yeah - selfishly he wants to see how that lands on tim, and he isn't disappointed. not by the way that light flush creeps down his strong neck, teases him with the flash of his chest here and there that makes hawk want to leave now and drive off into the fading golden hour, to stretch tim across the hood of his car and see what it looks like under the same sun that seems to wish it might caress icarus without a burn as much as hawk does.
the softness of his palm lands against his own, fingers flexing gently as hawk returns the soft gesture with a stretch of his lips that doesn't quite meet his eyes this time.]
We ended up here, in the end.
Don't know that I'd do any of it differently, if I could - not when I'm sitting with someone I respect more than anyone I've known in the last five years like this.
[hawk's thumb shifts, running lightly over the back of his hand with an easy tenderness as his gaze drops to watch it while tim looks away. god, he shouldn't get used to this. this in and of itself - it's probably a one time thing. not just for the optics, but because tim is destined for the capitol itself. he's going to be rubbing shoulders with washington's elite, stirring them up in a way that's going to draw both ire and admiration from many. but his undeniable sweetness and the feisty way he manages to capture the hearts of everyone, even fucking craig lever - that's what hawk knows will be true.
that's why he knows eventually this will all be a distant memory, a hazy recollection of youthful summers and a stolen moment. hell, maybe he won't even remember any of it someday. and hawk will still be at georgetown, still hiding himself, still living his double life and watching the next generation of minds pass him by. just growing older. doesn't that sound fucking pathetic. his lips drop for a moment, a pulse in his jaw and he considers voicing any of it before immediately pushing that down. he's not going to ruin this moment for tim.]
Won't be the same without you around, you know. One more week and you're wrapping it up, focusing on the last few requirements next year, and then graduation - and then off to the Big House, if I know you.
[he offers a grin that's meant to be conspiratorial, encouraging and warm.]
I know. And Skippy - you should know how much I care about you too. Too fucking much, if we're measuring solely by the Georgetown Code of Conduct.
But we're not in Georgetown right now.
[his hand squeezes again, and if tim looks closely maybe he'll see the note of something raw in hawk's gaze.]
So here I get to tell you there never was and never will be anyone else like you, you got that?
The restaurant, my office, the sessions - all of it.