[nothing else matters right now. not any of the passerby, not the fact that the drive is probably going to be shorter on the way in with traffic dying down, and certainly not anything other than the taste of tim's lips and the way his hands feel against his chest nor the radiating warmth from how close he's standing. christ, how long has he been dreaming of this? it's undeniably dangerous to let himself know what he tastes like with strawberries and cream and sweet red and know how his breath feels this close, or to let his hand slide and grip firm at the back of his neck where he can tip it back and both control the deepness of it and give tim some leeway to set just how much more he'd like. the groan that slips out of him doesn't even register as his own when he lets his tongue slip inside, twining against tim's with a hunger that no steak or dessert could ever fill.
the first thing he ought to do when he pulls back is cease all contact, step back like tim might scald him as if he'd left his hand too long on a hot iron. he should apologize for the overstep, tell him to forget it just like he did in december.
but they're not the same people they were last december, are they? too much has passed between them - and certainly, tonight is a step forward that he doesn't want to take back. so hawk lets his grip shift again lightly to tim's cheeks, eyes opening slowly as if he might keep the dream of this moment a little longer. tim's a vision up close - hazy in the tilt of his head, impossibly sweet the way he asks as if he's merely wanting another forkful of cake. there's something that tugs at his chest with it, how endeared he is - fucking gone, really, because the thought of saying no doesn't even cross his mind again.]
Mhm. Another one, only because you asked so sweet.
[there's a soft tug of his lips into a smile before he leans forward again, trying to keep it a gentle press of his mouth so he isn't tempted to stand here all night and memorize the smell, taste, and feel of him. to count down the days until he can feel it even closer and at their own leisure.
shit. of course he knows it won't be enough right now.]
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the first thing he ought to do when he pulls back is cease all contact, step back like tim might scald him as if he'd left his hand too long on a hot iron. he should apologize for the overstep, tell him to forget it just like he did in december.
but they're not the same people they were last december, are they? too much has passed between them - and certainly, tonight is a step forward that he doesn't want to take back. so hawk lets his grip shift again lightly to tim's cheeks, eyes opening slowly as if he might keep the dream of this moment a little longer. tim's a vision up close - hazy in the tilt of his head, impossibly sweet the way he asks as if he's merely wanting another forkful of cake. there's something that tugs at his chest with it, how endeared he is - fucking gone, really, because the thought of saying no doesn't even cross his mind again.]
Mhm. Another one, only because you asked so sweet.
[there's a soft tug of his lips into a smile before he leans forward again, trying to keep it a gentle press of his mouth so he isn't tempted to stand here all night and memorize the smell, taste, and feel of him. to count down the days until he can feel it even closer and at their own leisure.
shit. of course he knows it won't be enough right now.]