homosexuals | [UNI AU]

[UNI AU]

CAMBOY UNI AU

tell me and i forget, teach me and i remember.

[ tim knows that he shouldn't be eager to devour the sweet confection between them, but he can't help himself. his diet at school isn't the best, and the meal he's been given tonight on so many levels has been more wonderful and rich than anything he's had in years. he takes his own bite, then offers hawk another, nose wrinkling cutely at the little come hither motion.

it's easy to think that this is what their relationship could be - soft and warm and wanting from all directions. hawk's fingers around his, words against his ear, mouth on his knuckles, and they're done. but the acknowledgement of their meeting is a lot, heavy and real between them - the first time you mentioned that. tim curls their fingers together and sets his fork down. yes, there is some cake left, of course, but he won't eat all of it.

even if he wants to. ]

You can ask, you know. I know it's stupid, but I always felt like I could say whatever I wanted with you. During those sessions. Like your intelligence could match or best mine. Interrupt, next time.

[ he shrugs one shoulder, almost sheepish. ]

I think I'd find it hot, anyway. The instructor being instructed, and all. But no, I can't outshine you. That's what I meant.

[ he smiles a little, earnest and honest, before nudging the fork back in hawk's direction. tim keeps his hand in hawk's even as the server comes to inquire about the check, brings them the bill to close out their night. the fact that it has to end at all is enough to make him want to wither and cling and beg for a few minutes more, but he doesn't.

he watches as hawk elegantly signs his name, even as the server brings a little nondescript to-go box to take the remainder of the cake (hawk insisted, of course). but it's the weight of the man's arm around his back that gets him when they rise. the wine seems to hit him a little more as he stands, but it's a pleasant, humming sort of buzz that warms him from head to toe.

he follows hawk out into the cool, night air and sighs a little, keeping one of his own arms at hawk's back, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. what is it to touch this man - to be even in his presence like this and be wanted so much but be so out of reach? what would he do, if he tip-toed up and kissed him here in front of the flashing lights of the restaurant's signs? he won't. but the thought is there when he tips his head up, letting his chin plop on hawk's shoulder for a moment so that he can talk a little quieter and stop him just short of the car. ]

If you look up, you can see her, you know. [ he grins a little, boyish and sweet, turning his body at an angle to hawk's, chest to his side as he reaches his free hand and points to one bright star in a cluster of five, forming a faint little w in the sky, blinking brightly down at them. ]

She was said to have unrivaled beauty. But don't read into the myth too much. She's up there as a punishment, really, they say. But I just think that it's beautiful that she has the brightest star in all of the sky, anyway.

[this is the part he's been dreading all night - signing off on that bill like it's closing the door on this frankly fucking magical evening. it means going back to pretending like he wasn't just feeding strawberries and cream to this bright boy, watching him lick it off his lips and imagining what they might look like somewhere else. it means polite and professional and strictly political - at least, where anyone might see them. because what else will tim have to come visit him for once he's done with this course? maybe there are other idiots in the department like lonigan he'll be in the vicinity for, but spending hours with hawkins fuller - that'll be a thing of the past.

which is why it's exceedingly tempting to think about what happens when tim is no longer his student. it's too close a technicality - one he never would have even considered months before, no matter how sweet the scrunch of his nose when he laughed, or how entrancing the way his lips wrapped around pencils in clear evidence of an oral fixation. timothy laughlin would have just been his star pupil - someone he was attracted to in both mind and body - but he wonders if the sex, physical or not, is what really tipped this over the edge. it's hard to say - and seems especially unlikely given the way hawk eagerly slips up behind him as a clearly wine-tipsy, maybe even drunk tim rises to slightly shaky feet and he can't help but slide his hand to the small of his back and guide him like a lover would to the front door.

and once they're out in that perfect summer breeze - he lets it lift to wrap around his shoulders and keep him close as they walk side by side down the sidewalk and up the block to his car.

what might it be like, years from now? will he and tim be more than a fleeting infatuation and do this every other night? or will they be too gone on each other to do more than race home to get into bed with each other and stay there until hunger reminds them takeout is the only thing still open at such an obscene hour? or...worse, will they simply fade apart and peter out like everything else in hawk's life? it's hard not to consider it - to be reminded again no matter how much he tries to think around it, that tim is the one that's going to have options. his dreams are going to catapult him skyward, higher maybe even than the smattering of stars in a brilliant array spread out above them.

it'd be punishment for hawk, no one else. maybe he deserves it.]

I see her. She's nice and bright, but she's got nothing on you.

[hawk nudges tim's hip lightly in a tease, still not making any moves to guide them back towards the car. a little longer and he can pretend this is how it'll be.]

Why'd she end up being punished anyway? What was it you said - instructing the instructor?

Go on, Professor Laughlin.

[hawk turns, grin stretching his lips and pressing against the shell of his hear. it's audible in the teasing tone, the way he sounds near almost childish giggling.]

Hawkins Z. Fuller - present for class. I'm listening. But I hope there's no quiz later.

[ it must be the wine that has him so easily charmed by everything hawkins fuller says to him, and yet even the simplest joke about a star, bright and high in the sky, turned compliment makes him snort a little laugh, blushing heavy and hot in the cool summer air.

he sways a tiny bit with the bump of a hip, letting his fingers grip against hawk's side where his arm has come to rest, slung low round his back and broad palm on his side. he's warm, sturdy, and the lips against the shell of his ear send heat white-hot and whip-fast shooting down down down south making the black, slender jeans feel all the tighter at their seams. but hawk sounds delighted, giddy even and something about that makes his heart skip a beat in his chest.

when he turns his head to speak to hawk, he realizes how close they are, nose bumping the man's, but it doesn't stop him from speaking as they walk. ]

It's really not romantic. I've been told I'm a terrible liar, or I'd just make something up that was much more interesting. But the tale's told that she boasted about her beauty - that she was even more beautiful than the Nereids. Poseidon was furious with this, and it's said he made her sacrifice her daughter to the sea and he sent her to sit in the throne she felt she deserved, but in the sky. Upside down, so no one could ever truly behold her beauty.

[ he huffs a little, sheepish, shrugging one shoulder as he finishes the tale, glancing away from hawk and up the street. two blocks more to the car, and then the dream will shatter beneath their feet. the pavement turned to glass, the carriage into pumpkins, and all the magic will wash away.

he tilts his head back up then to hawk, nose crinkled, brow pinched in thought. ]

And maybe I shine bright, but I don't think there's anyone on this whole Earth so beautiful as you. It's probably better she's way up there - there would be no competition.

I hope you took excellent notes, Mr. Fuller. I can't promise there won't be a quiz later - divulging that to you would go against my code of conduct. Lips sealed, alright?

[ and it's so brief, so faint and light, the way he boyishly lets his lips catch the corner of hawk's mouth after his own nose bumps against hawk's cheek, the way it's fleeting and shy like a doe spooked at the coming of dawn, and tim tilts his head a little surprised by his own boldness but a youthful, burning pride in it, too. his eyes are turned again on the sidewalk. ]

[god, it takes every shred of willpower not to focus on the way tim looks with a flush of inebriation - to try and force himself to listen to his tragic tale, to learn something that isn't the way his eyes look like honey under a twinkling sky or his lips glisten enticingly with every word uttered. the only quiz he's interested in is the kind that requires a hands-on approach: the precise measurement of tim's body slotted against his own, the press of his hip and how it might feel if it were turned to fit precisely on top of his front in a tangle of limbs. he feels like a fucking teenager ready to lose himself - one wrong word or move away from just fucking snapping and dragging tim to the car, driving him somewhere quiet and otherwise forgotten except for poseidon and whoever else wanted to fucking see real beauty still walking the earth.

but tim's definitely tipsy enough to think twice - even if there wasn't the matter of finals next week and the end of another semester to contend with. even if he doesn't question the idea that tim wouldn't turn him down and that it's nowhere near the same as watching him stumble into his office after getting drugged by some creep - it wouldn't sit well with him to let their first time be something cramped and desperate that has room for error and regret. tim deserves more than that - to have that impossibly toned body laid out and worshipped from head to toe. the thought clouds over rational thought enough that he barely catches the last part - the compliment, the sweetness that's too genuine to be considered flattery he can brush off.

hawk laughs lightly, shaking his head in protest.]

Well, I was about to say maybe you need to get out more - but it's a little hard to go visit -

[he waves his hand with a twist of his wrist, as if to say he won't even bother trying to pronounce cassiopeia and embarrass himself.]

Everything I need to know is up here. I couldn't forget anything about a night like tonight.

[he taps at his temple, glancing down at tim's lips like a fucking pavlovian response when he has the audacity to mention them directly and torture hawk. he doesn't think his boy is sly enough to have done it intentionally, but it's enough to distract him from the witty response on the tip of his tongue as tim darts forward unexpectedly and presses an utterly sweet, chaste little kiss to the corner of his mouth. and there comes the final lesson: how ridiculously soft his lips are, how the wine smells mingled with his breath as he drags away with the little brush of his nose.

he should ignore it - should just smile and escort him over to the car that's just up the street, in easy view. so fucking close and yet so far.

except, hawk does neither of those things. no, he takes a beat to look at the way tim's expression is torn between wonder at his own courage in the moment and the fear of having crossed a line they've both been skirting since december. instead, he presses both hands to tim's cheeks and cups them, trying to force his gaze up by the abruptness of it, to make sure he sees it coming and can try and stop him moments before he surges forward and seals his lips against him in a heated kiss that's well overdue. christ, how long has he been dreaming of this?]

[ the mythologies of the world and the stars high above their heads suddenly mean nothing to timothy laughlin, who stands beneath them tucked into the warmth of hawkins fuller's side. this day, from start to finish, has been something he will never truly be able to remove from his memory, to take off of his heart, even he tried. the shy kiss to his lips would be enough, he's sure, to have hawk moving him toward the car, ushering them away to school to put a close on whatever this is.

tim knows better than to think he can get away with it, than to think that toeing across the line that the man has clearly drawn for him is a good idea. he'll blame it on the wine later which, true, he's feeling, but not enough to cloud his judgement. it gives him a hint of courage and that's all a boy like timothy laughlin needs.

the sound he makes when hawk's hands leave his shoulders and cradle his face, forcing his gaze up to the searing blue he's been memorizing all night, all the air leaves his chest. he thinks, at first, he's about to be scolded - told firmly that he must adhere to the limitations set for them even as far back as december, and yet -

his body acts on its own when the man's lips seal over his and his free hand comes instinctively to hawk's chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt. he leans up into the kiss, hard and wanting, gasping a sound of surprised against the pressure as his eyes slip closed and his mouth parts, easy and pliable and so desperately wanting of this.

what must he taste like - all strawberry cream and wine and heady spice? will time stop passing for them in this moment where his stomach both flips giddily and churns with desperate need?

it's not fully conscious the way he closes the space between their bodies - nothing lewd or untoward, just removing air and any sign of interruption in a desperate bit for closeness. should hawk let him deepen the kiss, he will - and lick hot into his mouth on a quiet little hum even as his hand leaves hawk's chest to slide up against his shoulder and hold him a little tighter. ]

One more. Please?

[ it's a mumbled little bid, a pouting sort of demand, as he parts briefly for a breath and kisses him again, with no hesitation this time, no question as to where they are or who might see because in this brief moment. it doesn't matter, anyway - there's nothing but he and hawk here, and the stars above them. anyone else will see two lovers in the dim lamplight and move on by. ]

Edited 2024-04-03 16:20 (UTC)

[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.]

[ the way his body fits against hawk's feels divine - like he was meant to fold into his chest and kiss him like this. he can remember, hazily, how it had felt when the man had carried him from campus to the hospital and back - how he just slotted against him like he was meant to be there. it feels like that now, pressed up to him and kissing him, the heavy weight of hawk's hand at his neck.

although he's just about as tall as hawk is, he feels himself needing to tip-toe up for the way he could melt right now, nudging into their fiery kiss with a yearning reach for more, more, more. but it will always feel like this - passing moments together from this instance on. it will drive him mad.

tim grins up at hawk, letting their noses brush together softly as hawk comes in for the next kiss graciously granted. it's soft, a simple, gentle press of his mouth and it's pathetic how he sighs into it, the hand at hawk's shoulder sliding so that his arm hooks round his neck and keeps him close. it was meant to be a simple little kiss, he's sure, but tim parts his lips and instead of the fierce, hungry thing from a few moments earlier, it's slow - a soft and languid twine of his tongue past soft lips, so that when he does pull back for air, he's flushed hot and left awed by him. ]

Please don't make me let go of you right now.

[ he wants to stay close, wants to hold him like this could be their forever, even as he tilts his head and presses his mouth against the corner of hawk's lips again, nosing at his cheek when his lips press one final kiss to his jawline. ]

Does this have to end?

[ there's the wine talking a little, voice whispered between them as tim all but asks the question against hawk's mouth, his eyes flitting to look up at hawk under dark lashes. he worries the corner of his own mouth between his teeth after he asks the question, heart pounding in his chest. his fingers have slid into the hair at his nape, the blunt of his nails soft against his scalp. ]

[it's funny how time can stand still and speed up so much in the span of a mere minute. tim presses up against him onto his toes, seeking it out in a physical manifestation that none of this is quite enough. and now that he's gone and broken one of his own cardinal rules - hawk suspects it never will be again, not when there's a soft nuzzle of tim's nose against his own, a butterfly kiss on top of the chaste one he's trying to place here so they can part and try not to think more on it. but it's a foolish endeavor from the start - hawk knowing when tim sighs into it that simply letting go isn't an option. it didn't work in december, and it sure as hell won't work now - now that he knows how tim feels pressed against his body so willingly.

fuck. it's not a filthy kiss this time, even if it wasn't the first, but there is a slow build to it, the kind of hunger and passion that's barely masked even though hawk's desperately trying to contain the bulk of it behind one of his already cracked facades. his lips pull back even if his body refuses to let go of tim right now - pressing his forehead against the other man's and exhales sharply against his lips with a slight shake of his head.]

Couldn't even if I wanted to.

[and that's the fucking truth. it's a heavy, vulnerable thing to admit - but the thought of letting tim down when he looks up through heavy lidded doe-eyes makes it all but impossible to stop. hawk inhales for a moment, holding it in and thinking about all the merits of willpower and his career on the line before making the decision in a split second. one hand falls to slip between tim's with a soft squeeze against his palm, and he pulls away to glance both ways before tugging him towards the car in the short distance.]

C'mere.

[i can't let this end either, he wants to say. but instead he practically drags tim back to the car, opening his door and letting him slide in before coming round the driver's side with measured intention and shutting his own. there's a pause, considering that he could shove his key in and start the ignition - get on the road before he does anything stupid. instead, he turns at the waist, both hands reaching for tim's cheeks again as he drags him in with all the ferocity he's been holding back behind the added privacy of dim street lights and darkened windows. there's a hunger in the way he groans against his lips, like he might devour tim whole if he were afforded the opportunity the way his jaw works and his tongue slips inside that plush mouth.]

[ there's no denying the way his heart sinks when hawk pulls away finally even after the languorous kiss. of course they can't stand in the street kissing like lovesick fools all night - reality has to come knocking and as hawk pulls away, tim knows that their night is coming to an end. he squeezes the man's hand as they part, blinking up at him a little dazed still. ]

Right. Okay.

[ he tries to take a deep breath, to steady the wild rhythm of his heart as the man tugs him along the half block to the car. it feels hurried in a way that tim can't clock, and he settles into the passenger side feeling as though the world is spinning around him. his lips still burn, his chest warm, and already he misses how safe he'd felt pressed against hawkins fuller in the middle of the lamplight.

he tracks hawk's movement, watches him as he gets in and out of habit reaches for his own seatbelt once hawk's door closes. right. it has to end. reality is here and they will leave the lovey haze of this date (this reward, he reminds himself), and return to whence they came. so there's little to prepare him for the way hawk reaches for him, grabs at him and kisses him with a fervor that makes tim groan loudly into the kiss.

he uses once hand to brace himself on the center console but the other reaches blindly for hawk, fingers fisting in his shirt and pulling him even closer. tim leans much the same way he had at the dinner table, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further and let his tongue match hawk's, sliding and yearning and seeking as though tim is nothing more than a man drowning.

the noise that tumbles into the kiss is akin to something hawk has undoubtedly heard on one of their private video sessions. a moan, almost musical in the way it rumbles between their lips and the noise of their shared kiss, coupled with the tightening of fingers in hawk's shirt, knuckles pressed hard into the muscle above his heart. ]

[there's no reason to linger on the way tim sounds so disappointed by the revelation, the knowledge that this has to come to its inevitable conclusion. that they'll be forced to go back to the boundary that's been broken all the same - separated by desks and dissertations even if the time spent together has a new thrum of heat and an added layer or familiarity they can never share on georgetown campus. hawk has to let himself push forward, to just get to the car before his resolve breaks and he considers the fantasy of what they can't have just yet.

it takes a moment to steel himself in the car too, to pretend he doesn't see the way tim is almost pouting with disappointment and reaching to secure himself when they have precious little space to begin with. it's why he all but launches himself over the middle console, encouraging tim to twist and lean forward for something that much more ardent. hawk can't remember the last time he kissed someone, let alone made out with them at his own leisure. it doesn't usually come up unless it's a precursor to getting them face down and fucked out.

but tim makes him want to take his time, to explore the velvety insides of his mouth and let their tongues twist and slide against each other with a need that borders on desperation. one arm drops to snake around tim's shoulders best as he can from this angle, the other hand slipping to let his fingers press hard around tim's jaw and keep directing him into kiss after heated kiss. anything to feel the vibrations of his groans, to let those keening noises find their way into his own mouth and possess them forever.

now his restraint teeters on the dangerous reality of keeping his hands above the waist, even if his own inseam is uncomfortably tight and he'd like to see if tim's mirrors it. he recognizes those tempting little tidbits smattered between kisses - and he wants to know if the rest of them would materialize from stimulation torn straight from the transcripts of their late night chats that feel like a fucking age ago.

hawk nips hungrily at his lips in quick succession, pulling away and breathing hard against his mouth.]

Christ, Skippy - could keep at this all night. You've got no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.

[they can't, but he doesn't feel the need to vocalize it when he could just dive back in and kiss him again.]

[ it would be so easy to stay like this, leaning across the center arm rest, letting the older man pull him in and in and in, over and over again. the hand against his jaw directs him back for kiss after kiss, the silence of the car punctuated instead by the wet slide of their tongues, the huffs of little breaths between, and the low groans shared between them.

if this where anywhere else he might consider more - might consider dragging hawk's hand lower, encouraging him to touch and feel and grab and move him to the backseat and make this night something different altogether. but as they pull away, hawk nipping at his lips, tim finds himself breathless, nosing against the man and pressing little fluttering kisses against his lips ]

You've got no idea how long I've wanted you to do that.

[ he smiles, a little dopey and sweet for all the fire that is burning between them right now. his own jeans are impossibly tight, and what would it be like to grab the man's hand and drag it down where he can grab it, feel it, rut into it and get some more base relief. but no, instead he stays leaned up on the center, turned so that one knee is tucked under him. he's sure in the dim light it would be obvious to see how his jeans are straining now.

he tilts his head a little, letting his tongue swipe at the swell of hawk's bottom lip, a kittenish lick before turning his head and licking the pad of hawk's thumb once again, like they had in the restaurant. it's brief, the way his free hand grabs at hawk's wrist and tugs it free from his face. he lets his mouth trail to his palm, the tip of his tongue tracing the lifeline there once before he presses a kiss to it, then to his wrist.

then, and only then, does he lean back just slightly. the hand over hawk's heart loosens, presses flat to the broad chest there, petting slowly and smoothing out his shirt. ]

I want more. I... I want you. [ he only meets hawk's eyes when he finishes the statement, and he noses into his hand he's holding, dragging his palm to his cheek and holding it there. ]

But only when you... when you won't regret it. I don't want to break all of your rules. I... tonight has been wonderful. The best night of my life, because it was with you. I'm your boy, through and through, and even a boy's gotta protect his mister sometimes. Even if I don't want to.

[ the hand on his chest slides up, wandering to hawk's throat, his neck, letting his fingers lightly rest at the soft lobe of his ear, thumb pressing a soft little circle against it, pressed between it and a forefinger. he huffs a little sigh and leans in one last time and kiss him softly, lingering, all wanting and desperate but impossibly gentle. he keeps their noses brushed close, his lips over hawk's as he speaks, a near whisper: ]

Please tell me we can do this again one day.

Edited (added an ear lobe line bc i was just randomly struck that i hadn't done this yet) 2024-04-05 20:13 (UTC)

[it's obvious - just like the way it's obvious hawk desperately wants more, more, more from his boy, his own trousers practically a vice trapping him down where he wishes he might guide tim's hand to feel even more tangible proof of how much he's wanted, or christ, even take that hand at his nape and slowly help him lower to feel the way plush lips feel hot around his mouth as he sinks down on his cock. it makes his kisses that much hungrier, lips nipping in between panted breaths and noises that are much too intimate for a mere makeout. all of this holds an intensity hawk doesn't think he's ever been struck by - not even kenny, back when it was young love and felt like his whole world. there's something utterly contradictory in the way that being with tim feels both utterly grounded and as if he might float away at any moment with the whelm of desire and being desired by someone so genuine and rooted in his emotions.

there's a hard exhale against his mouth as tim pulls away, hawk pressing another open-mouthed kiss against the corner of his mouth before glancing over at him and letting the reality of his choice fully sink in. his heart feels as if it pounds all the way up to his ears, a dull roar of white noise rushing as he watching tim's tongue slip out to lick at his thumb and kiss lightly against his palm, his wrist. it's so tender it almost makes his heart wrench at the innocence of it, undercut only by the dull throb between his legs that he wishes he could alleviate the pressure off of and relieve for tim too, because a quick glance down confirms it's mutual. hawk hums with encouragement, leaning in to nuzzle against tim's cheek with his nose and let his lips trail absent, feathery kisses against his skin wherever they may land.]

Shit. I want you too, Christ almighty.

[he nearly dives forward to take his mouth in another kiss, if only to keep himself from saying anything that he can't walk back, and from making another mistake in escalating the tension and the sheer desperation he feels of need. but tim's palm is warm and firm and guides him back rather than closer - distance widening in a way that pulls him out of his own haze that's a different kind of drunkness than the wine flushing tim's cheeks.

ah. fuck.

how can he do anything but laugh and shake his head lightly?]

Jesus. You're right. Much as I'd like to, I'm not breaking that one rule. I can't, and you're a good boy for reminding me.

[there's a shiver when tim's fingers trace against his earlobe, further igniting the roiling burst of heat that feels like it's under his skin. he's surprisingly sensitive there, something to hold onto for another time. another night when they can do this properly - without guilt, without worrying tim might change his mind from too much wine, and without being crammed into his car miles away from a warm bed.

hawk lets both hands rest against his cheek again, smiling softly with a wistful gratitude in his eyes - because he's supposed to be the more sensible adult here, and instead tim is the one saving him from making a mistake that could fuck them both up irreparably. he leans forward - not for another kiss to his lips, but a soft promise planted against his forehead for enough of a moment that he can commit it to memory, to instill a vow.]

One day, yeah. We will, Skip - promise.

[hawk wants to imagine it could be every day, really. it's torture to pull away, but he does it and tries to let it feel authentic to let wryness work its way back into his tone as he straightens out tim's collar, patting him on the shoulder and shifting back into his seat.]

Let's get back to campus.

[ shit. i want you too.

the validation there makes his blood sing with warmth and the fact that they have to end this is almost crushing. what would they be like, messy and tossed in the car, or what would the tension rise to if this car took him anywhere other than the georgetown campus dorms?

hawk's mouth trails along his cheek and jaw and tim arches toward him instinctively, sighing in a way that could only fall just short of a moan. hawk's mouth on him, his hands - the vision is everything he thought it would be when he laid in his dorm room on camera for this man. but he knows that can't be their reality - not right now. and he tells himself it's temporary, even though the reality of hawk rejecting him again after this, going back to strictly business, is very real. ]

I didn't want to take advantage.

[ funny, considering he's the one buzzing still with warmth from the wine, though he feels he has more clarity now than ever, even as hawk's lips find his forehead. his eyes flutter closed and he smiles, the gesture scrunching his nose as he nods softly and moves to sit back into his seat, pulling his seatbelt on.

it doesn't stop him from perching in the seat like he would were they in the privacy of hawk's office - heels coming up to catch the seat's edge, knees peeking up over the car door to the window. the car purrs to life when hawk starts it, and only when they're safely moving again does he reach for one of hawk's hands, delicately lacing their fingers and bringing their joined palms to rest over one of his knees.

it's not kissing, it's not the desperate touches and wanting, but a quiet little reminder that the tension on the air isn't all sexual and carnal. tim traces little patterns against the top of hawk's knuckles as the car moves on the road, the radio low in the background. ]

I like it when you call me Skippy, you know. [ he shrugs, grinning almost sheepishly over at him, leaning to prop his chin almost boyishly against their joined hands. ]

And good boy, of course. But Skippy, mostly. I don't have any inventive names for you, I'm sorry. Mister and sir - they're not very original, huh? [ and then, to add to the wry little mood hawk tries for? ]

I could call you Milton. Milty? Milt? Mr. M? [ he hums, knowing too well how this will go over. ]

Hey, that's supposed to be my line.

[there's a light tease to his words, the acknowledgment that once again in this evening the student is teaching the teacher - but as he puts his hands on the steering wheel and reluctantly turns on the engine, a purring hum as it rumbles to life - he turns to look at tim and nudge him with an elbow to earn his gaze back.]

I mean it. I care about you and your future.

[another pause has he reaches for the shifter, reversing smoothly and pulling away from the quaint little road that's been their private hideaway for the last few hours.]

I care about what it means for both of us, you know that - right?

[his focus is on the road until he sees tim shifting, glancing over at a stoplight and smiling privately to himself at the boy's inability to do anything but curl up and crunch himself into small spaces - more than making up for it in the way his wit and charm and knowledge and personality eventually widen it. yeah, hawk could watch him do that all day. it's hard not to get lost to the daydream of it with lights whirring past in pretty streaked blurs of color, distracted enough by the differing scenery that he doesn't notice tim reaching for his hand until he feels it warmly enveloping his own, strong and soft despite the rough parts like callouses on his fingers from gripping his pens and doing the garden work his parents put on him in the summer. there's a light squeeze against tim's knee, affectionate more than untoward before he lets his hand rest and strokes a thumb along the side of his wrist.]

Yeah? It's what drew me to you, you know. Never told you this, but there was a show on the radio when I was a kid. Well - Mom listened to it sometimes, when Dad wasn't around. I'd sneak it in the mornings before school. Can't remember the name, but I remember Skippy.

Practically an angel, just like you.

[another soft squeeze as tim draws it upward, hawk tipping his head to offer a lingering quirk of his lips upward.]

It suits you.

[but it drops just as quickly in mock disgust, hawk shaking his head.]

Dunno what I was thinking. "Call me Uncle Milty?" It's a wonder you didn't log off on me the second I got you in one of those chats.

[there's a pause, hawk flexing his fingers again and letting his voice drop even as he keeps his line of sight straight forward, watching them navigate onto the exit back to dc.]

But I'll be your man. Like the sound of that.

[ tim isn't sure that a more perfect date and evening could even exist after this. the little suburbs pass them by as they drive, the car humming and the lights outside flickering by. the weight of hawk's hand on his knee and in his own hand are so comforting that he could be content to sit here like this for hours if they were allowed. the only way this night could be better would be if he could go home with him, pretend that this could be their life, that this could be his future.

maybe. one day.

tim squeezes the hand there softly, his head tilting so that it's his cheek that presses against their joined hands on his knee. he smiles a little, almost boyish and sheepish in the way that he flushes. ]

You will? I mean - [ a little embarrassed huff, then: ] I'm glad. That you'll be my man. I don't think I'd want any other man, anyway.

[ but there's the name - skippy - and tim just listens to the story of hawk's parents, the show, the sound. he can imagine that it must be a fond memory indeed, if the way hawk speaks is anything to go by. he's not blind to the implication that the show was only listened to when his father wasn't around - that's something tim knows very well. they have more in common in seems than even he had realized. ]

But I'm no angel. I think I'm fine with just being your boy - that's heavenly on its own, I think. I know that maybe things will be different - that there's a lot we both have to be careful of, of course. But I know you care. I know that better than anyone, I think.

[ he shrugs a little and leans back, keeping their hands tangled atop his knee, desperate for the touch and the connection. he dips his head one final time to press his lips against hawk's knuckles before his head tips back and his eyes drift over to the man in the dark of the car.

how is it he's handsome even here? ]

It's why I forgive you for the Uncle Milty line. I like Hawk, Hawkins, my man better. This night? This night has been beyond perfect.

Well that works out perfectly for me - I don't want any other boy.

[that's exactly what an angel would say - , he almost argues back, because in the passing lights that streak across tim's face as quaint suburbia transitions once more into city highway - he looks an awful lot like one. there's something so youthful and innocent about him despite what hawk has been a rapt audience participant for, and there's a part of him that still can't believe someone so perfectly dichotomous exists within his reach, let alone wants to be firmly held within its grasp. it's going to be torture waiting for more, but everything about tim makes it worthwhile.

one hand rests firmly on the wheel, the sky darkening above them as evening gives way to the outright cover of night, but hawk steals glances at how sweet his student looks curled up in his seat, catlike almost in the way he thinks he might drift away at any moment into the warm embrace of an evening doze in the passenger seat. there's something juvenile about the way all of this feels - thrilling rather than immature, even if deep down hawk knows it's reckless for both of them now that they've heightened their a connection to a level that might be easier to spot. might be harder to tamp down when they're spending time across from each other in his office, or passing the halls with intention in their gaze that's visibly magnetic to anyone within its range.

hawk hums when those lips brush against the tops of his knuckles, wishing they were somewhere else now that his own tingle with the phantom sensation of their kisses already much too far behind them.]

See, overlooking that might be your most angelic act yet.

[he's teasing, of course. but his fingers squeeze again, eyes fixed on the road so tim can't see the way sincerity and an emotion of vulnerability wells up that he's loathe to let be so easily read. still. he should know this:]

Best date I've ever been on. We'll get to more of them, one day - but I've got plenty of expectations for us.

[of course the drive has to come to an end eventually, hawk pulling into a parking lot that's further in campus, behind the sciences building and more secluded under the darkness and a few broken lights. there's a quick scan, ensuring no prying eyes before he turns to tim, unable to hide the longing and affection this time. his fingers untangle, lifting to shift tim's chin towards him and curve along his jaw.]

Thank you, Skippy. This won't be the last of us - I promise.

[there's a pause, hawk tentatively sucking in a breath.]

Would you let me kiss you goodnight?

I like expectations.

[ the warmth of the wine coursing through his veins and the balmy summer air lulls tim into a sense of relaxation, an ease that rounds his shoulders and lets his head tip back against the seat as they drive. it's not too long a drive, not when he's allowed to hold hawk's hand like this, pressed against his knee. he tugs it up closer sometimes, perched higher on his thigh or up against his chest as they listen to the music and the sounds of the road outside.

but he starts to recognize the city more and more as they approach, even through his sleepy, half-lidded eyes. there's no denying that he feels as though he's floating in some vivid, loving dream. his grip on hawk's hand never falters, but only as they reach familiar sights does he tug their joined fingers below the line of the window - where they can't be seen, should anyone spot them. he knows they've talked along the way home - idle chatter about politics here and there, what's coming next, tim offering ideas for their next date - because of course, they both agree there will be one.

the campus signs light up in the dark of the evening. the sciences building is a bit of a walk from his dorm, but he won't confess that. he doesn't want to ruin the moment, even if there are closer, sneakier places they could tuck themselves away for a goodbye. the car stops, idles, and tim lets out a slow, deep breath. ]

I promise it won't be, either.

[ he undoes his seatbelt with a click and turns to speak just as hawk does, and tim blinks, mouth half open in surprise. he'd wanted the same - wanted to ask the same, and here it is, laid before him by the man himself.

he smiles in a way that crinkles his nose, tugs his mouth to one side boyishly, and he shrugs a shoulder, leaning his face into the warmth of hawk's palm. ] I was going to ask the same thing.

[ there's no hesitation this time when he leans across the arm rest, a hand reaching to press to hawk's chest, but he nudges their noses together first, a little eskimo kiss before he huffs a sheepish laugh. leaning in, he presses their lips together, firm and slow, letting the kiss linger. it's nothing of the filthy, desperate things from before - but firm, a promise of more, hope.

when he pulls away, he keeps his hand on his chest for a few seconds longer. ]

Have a great night, Hawk. [ not sir, mr. fuller, professor, none of that. his hand slides up slowly, and his thumb skirts the hint of skin at an unbuttoned collar. ] Don't stay up too late. Thank you again, for tonight.

[ it's hard to pull away - to resist - but slowly he leans back, opens the car door, scoops the strap of his bag in one hand, and slips out into the parking lot. ]

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