[it shouldn't be funny - but maybe they're just destined to be haunted by the ghosts of former lovers, gone in the immediate sense, but never the lingering remnants that could be triggered by any sense at the most inopportune of moments. hawk is already as vulnerable as it gets, half considering embry's sudden insistence to be the one to actually take control for a change without even knowing what it meant the last time hawk gave it to someone. and he damn sure doesn't know he's the only other person short of the surgeons and today's dead man himself to trace the ugly gash on his shoulderblade, fingertips trailing the ridged edges with a softness that he probably doesn't deserve - and he didn't back then with the way he ultimately abandoned tim, or the doctors that treated him like glass for months after the fact - fuck.
he wishes he had a cigarette. instead, he dips down to shut embry up for a minute with another kiss and try to gain composure from the moment of silence that's lasted a beat too long and the spasm that surely washed across his face, too hard to miss this intimately close with embry underneath him. he pulls back, voice low and rough and hating that it seems like he's still stalling and ignoring the other question.]
Yeah.
[his saliva-coated fingers bypass the rest of embry's immaculate form underneath him, only so he can ghost across his barely dried cock and cup around his balls, teasing at the tempting part between his thighs without any real inclination to breech him just yet. maybe he wants to see how much a fight he'll put up for what he supposedly wants, or so hawk doesn't have to feel guilty denying someone else one thing they've asked for quite so plainly in his bed. can't you just take me to dinner? tim had asked him with an earnestness he'll never forget.]
I was a sergeant. Velletri - I know I told you that before at least. Me and four of my men were ambushed by a squad of Carpathian bastards weeks before we were supposed to get shipped home.
[hawk's jaw tightens hard, eyes narrowing to avoid growing misty even as he knows his cheek is clenched and he must look painfully obvious in blaming himself for all of it.]
I took as much of it as I could up front - all the big guns - doctors told me it was lucky it tore right through.
[it's funny too, how years have passed and the smell of gunpowder and smoke and blood never really feels like it's fully left his nostrils.]
Two of my best...they weren't so lucky. Probably still pieces of 'em scattered on the Cisterna Campoleone, Christ.
[he shakes his head, desperately wishing he could wrap his lips around a filter right now. and sure, the story could stop there, but he's a fucking runaway train now and why not just finish it off and let embry know what he's walked into? give him a chance to walk out while he can.]
Senator Smith got the best surgeons for me without a word - I had maybe a dozen operations or so. Little cabin up in Delaware to recover, but we both know it's never just about letting a body rest.
[there's the ptsd, the self-loathing, the night terrors - the general way he'd felt unfit to come back to polite society for some time. but he shrugs it off, glancing up at embry and utterly deadpanning:]
no subject
he wishes he had a cigarette. instead, he dips down to shut embry up for a minute with another kiss and try to gain composure from the moment of silence that's lasted a beat too long and the spasm that surely washed across his face, too hard to miss this intimately close with embry underneath him. he pulls back, voice low and rough and hating that it seems like he's still stalling and ignoring the other question.]
Yeah.
[his saliva-coated fingers bypass the rest of embry's immaculate form underneath him, only so he can ghost across his barely dried cock and cup around his balls, teasing at the tempting part between his thighs without any real inclination to breech him just yet. maybe he wants to see how much a fight he'll put up for what he supposedly wants, or so hawk doesn't have to feel guilty denying someone else one thing they've asked for quite so plainly in his bed. can't you just take me to dinner? tim had asked him with an earnestness he'll never forget.]
I was a sergeant. Velletri - I know I told you that before at least. Me and four of my men were ambushed by a squad of Carpathian bastards weeks before we were supposed to get shipped home.
[hawk's jaw tightens hard, eyes narrowing to avoid growing misty even as he knows his cheek is clenched and he must look painfully obvious in blaming himself for all of it.]
I took as much of it as I could up front - all the big guns - doctors told me it was lucky it tore right through.
[it's funny too, how years have passed and the smell of gunpowder and smoke and blood never really feels like it's fully left his nostrils.]
Two of my best...they weren't so lucky. Probably still pieces of 'em scattered on the Cisterna Campoleone, Christ.
[he shakes his head, desperately wishing he could wrap his lips around a filter right now. and sure, the story could stop there, but he's a fucking runaway train now and why not just finish it off and let embry know what he's walked into? give him a chance to walk out while he can.]
Senator Smith got the best surgeons for me without a word - I had maybe a dozen operations or so. Little cabin up in Delaware to recover, but we both know it's never just about letting a body rest.
[there's the ptsd, the self-loathing, the night terrors - the general way he'd felt unfit to come back to polite society for some time. but he shrugs it off, glancing up at embry and utterly deadpanning:]
Sexy, right?