[there it is - the thing he's been avoiding ever since his lapses in judgment when it came to tim laughlin started drawing further and further stretched out. this here is maybe the most dangerous thing he's ever done in his five years with georgetown. the kicker is it's also the most intoxicating - and what he feels for tim isn't anything a warm body and nameless somebody at a bar has even remotely come close to filling for him. but the idea of tim no longer being his direct student (a semantic, really, seeing as he'd still be a student and off limits by technicality) has weighed on him heavier and heavier with each passing flirtation, every bit of banter and even the way a few teachers have taken to playing delighted audience at how well they verbally spar with each other. sometimes that little office feels more welcoming and filled with all the warmth that tim emanates in a way that screams home, his expensive walk-up not even coming close.

what happens after graduation? it's a possibility he's refused to let himself consider out of fear and obligation - fear that his darling icarus won't get struck down by the sun, he'll shoot so far past it that he'll land somewhere in the stars, adored by everyone and everything he touches. obligation to some conduct a teacher should be exhibiting in not fucking his students - definitely current and probably not former. his tenure had been the most important thing on his radar before last december ground it all to a halt, and while hawk is fully capable of playing his cards right and keeping them close enough to the chest to hide it...it's still a risk no matter how he looks at it.

but that's not what he's looking at right now: tim, a study in the beautiful light of the golden hour, flushed from the heat or the wine or the feelings that this stolen moment has stirred in both of them. whatever happens after they leave the safety of this little table or set foot back on campus - this will have changed them, altered their bond and heightened their infatuation unquestionably. how the hell do you put back pandora's box?

on some level, hawk knew when he did this - spur of the moment or not - that there was no going back. the stakes would only keep raising; the rewards and things that would satisfy would only grow interminably.

it fucking scares him to think there is no mere sliver of his heart that is clutched between tim's hands - it's a significant chunk that same day he stepped past the threshold and hurriedly rushed to the back. the memory of it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile, head tipping back with a soft laugh.]

Didn't stay in the back for long though. Just as well, seeing as you're one of the only ones who could keep up with my lessons. Then and now.

[the empty wine glass is a welcome distraction, and hawk doesn't even think before he picks up the bottle with one hand, twisting it with his wrist to give tim another generous pour and otherwise forgetting that he probably has a low tolerance. it's coming with dinner, even if their appetizers are sitting largely ignored while his fingers lightly run along the underside of tim's palm for a moment in lieu of answer - committing to anything, really.]

We are. On a date.

Listen, Skippy I -

[god, whatever bullshit he was going to say utterly dies in this throat, expression equally and helplessly endeared to the way tim is so open and honest even with his feelings and the look on his face here. christ, how can he give that up? not even taste the forbidden fruit just once in its flesh? fuck.]

I do know that. And believe me, I think about it. All the time.

[he meets tim at a level gaze, eyes bright with a hunger that's not for the feast of seafood or italian spread out in front of them.]

Ever since Christmas - I've played the "what if" game. I don't regret the way it's happened now. Getting to know you like I have...you're right. It is more than just the classes and the office hours and the debates.

[there's an inexplicable lump in his throat he swallows hard around, shaking his head to break the trance momentarily and reach for his wine too.]

It's you I can't stop thinking about. It's you I wanna see at the end of a long day. It's you I wish I was coming home to, curled up in my bed.

I don't know what that means for us after the semester right now.

[it's a bit of a delayed realization that it could sound like a rejection, so hastily he leans in and adds in a lower voice:]

Listen - I'm not writing anything off between us. We'll figure it out - alright? But first we have to get you through summer exams.

[hawk softens again, knowing he shouldn’t - but lifting tim’s hand to graze his lips against the back of his knuckles softly.]

I just wanna do right by my boy.