[he'd said the same thing weeks ago, and it already feels like a lifetime: yeah alright, i'm yours. because it was true ever since they'd locked eyes across the bar at mccarthy's election night, every meeting after only solidifying the space in hawk's heart that could only be filled by the shape of tim laughlin. maybe it's too much for him to outright say it like that, to let his feelings simply exist in the space and expression the way they're meant to. but this is the part he can always and unquestionably fully give himself to: bringing tim to a higher place of bliss and ecstasy and take greedily of his body and his boy all for himself. at a base level it's sex, yeah, of course it is. but when he thinks of eddie koeffler and all the men he's fucked before in short bursts at clandestine locations with no intention of ever seeing them again - it doesn't even come fucking close to what they have here behind closed doors.
and maybe jesuit high school never did it for him and he doesn't believe in god, but he can believe an angel walks among them in the form of tim laughlin. knows it's real when he offers himself like a sacrificial lamb when he gets on his knees or stretches onto his back and gives up everything he has freely to hawk. it makes him want to possess it from the inside out, to claim him like he did with the cufflinks and the words spilling out of his lips back in rehoboth beach: i belong to hawkins fuller. no matter what happens to them here - there will be a part of it that's always true, and it scares the hell out of hawk to think that their souls are twined together forever now.
it makes him kiss that much fiercer, tongue slipping into tim's mouth and swirling against the slickness of his own as his fingers push past any lingering resistance and drive deep inside the velvety heat with a low groan. they pull back with ease, sliding back inside and crooking this time in search of the one spot that'll have tim's eyes go wide and his moans get that much louder and needier. his forehead stays pressed against tim's, feeling damp hair crushed between them as he looks him in the eye and nods, encouraging him to fall apart.]
Go on honey, tell me how that feels. It's not enough, is it?
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and maybe jesuit high school never did it for him and he doesn't believe in god, but he can believe an angel walks among them in the form of tim laughlin. knows it's real when he offers himself like a sacrificial lamb when he gets on his knees or stretches onto his back and gives up everything he has freely to hawk. it makes him want to possess it from the inside out, to claim him like he did with the cufflinks and the words spilling out of his lips back in rehoboth beach: i belong to hawkins fuller. no matter what happens to them here - there will be a part of it that's always true, and it scares the hell out of hawk to think that their souls are twined together forever now.
it makes him kiss that much fiercer, tongue slipping into tim's mouth and swirling against the slickness of his own as his fingers push past any lingering resistance and drive deep inside the velvety heat with a low groan. they pull back with ease, sliding back inside and crooking this time in search of the one spot that'll have tim's eyes go wide and his moans get that much louder and needier. his forehead stays pressed against tim's, feeling damp hair crushed between them as he looks him in the eye and nods, encouraging him to fall apart.]
Go on honey, tell me how that feels. It's not enough, is it?