[ although tim can't be sure that hawk will be tuning in or not, he can't help but feel a little warm under the collar at the very thought of his own brazenness. perhaps it's the date that's made him bold - the way his mouth wrapped around hawk's finger, the fork, or the kissing on the sidewalk, in the car. he's thought about that night many times since returning, perching in hawk's office still like none of it happened. well, at least as much as he can.
tim's responding to chat, striking poses, running hands along his chest and thighs when asked to. it's all mundane, boring things. the occasional tip to say someone's name in that playful little purr, or the way he can wiggle his hips just so to make the school shorts seem tighter around his hips. it's his usual fare, really - but it pays. and this little stint has been lucrative. (he chooses not to think about the whys).
a name pops up in the viewing list though that sparks his eye - he remembers it. he'd specifically gone back to look at the heft donation made for his summer classes and committed the username to memory. he'd half expected hawk to delete it, but seeing that name pop back up makes him sit up a little straighter, makes him a little more attentive to how he looks on camera, or the way he sighs when one of his hands roams over a sensitive nipple beneath the sweater vest.
and then there it is - the donation. the message.
it's early enough in his stream that it won't hurt to move to a private. he's got footage thankfully he can stream on the back end so that those watching? well, they won't know the difference unless they're a regular viewer. thankfully he doesn't have to worry much about that.
the camera feed switches and tim hums, almost like a pouty little whine as he gets settled. ]
I don't think I know how to play that, mister. Wanna teach me?
[ tim slides the papers and pencil to the side, leaning forward on his palms so that the light accentuates the muscle of his forearms, and even reveals a loose button beneath his tie, where his adam's apple bobs. ]
That's a mighty big tip you gave me already - but it still didn't help me with my homework. I'm sorry, I'm not a very good boy tonight.
[ he can't be 100% sure that it's hawk, of course, but something in his gut tells him that it is. and it doesn't stop him from wanting it to be him. in fact, he's willing to take a little risk with this one - it's nice to think it could be hawk. that it could be his man on the other side of that screen, and he can almost imagine the way it felt to have his arms around him and his lips kiss-swollen. ]
no subject
tim's responding to chat, striking poses, running hands along his chest and thighs when asked to. it's all mundane, boring things. the occasional tip to say someone's name in that playful little purr, or the way he can wiggle his hips just so to make the school shorts seem tighter around his hips. it's his usual fare, really - but it pays. and this little stint has been lucrative. (he chooses not to think about the whys).
a name pops up in the viewing list though that sparks his eye - he remembers it. he'd specifically gone back to look at the heft donation made for his summer classes and committed the username to memory. he'd half expected hawk to delete it, but seeing that name pop back up makes him sit up a little straighter, makes him a little more attentive to how he looks on camera, or the way he sighs when one of his hands roams over a sensitive nipple beneath the sweater vest.
and then there it is - the donation. the message.
it's early enough in his stream that it won't hurt to move to a private. he's got footage thankfully he can stream on the back end so that those watching? well, they won't know the difference unless they're a regular viewer. thankfully he doesn't have to worry much about that.
the camera feed switches and tim hums, almost like a pouty little whine as he gets settled. ]
I don't think I know how to play that, mister. Wanna teach me?
[ tim slides the papers and pencil to the side, leaning forward on his palms so that the light accentuates the muscle of his forearms, and even reveals a loose button beneath his tie, where his adam's apple bobs. ]
That's a mighty big tip you gave me already - but it still didn't help me with my homework. I'm sorry, I'm not a very good boy tonight.
[ he can't be 100% sure that it's hawk, of course, but something in his gut tells him that it is. and it doesn't stop him from wanting it to be him. in fact, he's willing to take a little risk with this one - it's nice to think it could be hawk. that it could be his man on the other side of that screen, and he can almost imagine the way it felt to have his arms around him and his lips kiss-swollen. ]
How can I make it up to you, mister?