Nah - it's alright honey. You didn't wanna ruin it.
[instead hawk took it upon himself to do it. and the reality is: he'd do it again, no matter how much it's tearing him up inside to know he's hurting tim. hurting them both with the distance and the secrecy for a whole other set of powerful people, and this time he doesn't even know the end goal of the game, only that having favor here is surely better than not.
but that all melts away when tim lets him have this: a tight embrace, the intimacy he's craved and lacked for weeks now offered to him even amongst a somber backdrop of loss. he wishes they could stay like this forever, hawk dipping his chin against the space that always feels made for him at the juncture of tim's muscled shoulders and neck where he can inhale deeply and drink in everything that is his boy. but it can't last forever, and his eyes are already glassy when tim looks at him, jaw trembling for the briefest of moments at the tenderness he's offered before the revelation.
what does he even say? why? wesley smith - senator, mentor, father - he'd never have done this without reason. he must've been pushed into a corner. mccarthy and cohn getting away with goddamn murder, or maybe it was - lenny? frank was gonna come through, gonna get him the original arrest record, and then they'd be free and clear to tell senator bridges and welker to fuck off and shove their attempted blackmail up their asses without proof. is it his fault senator smith had to resort to this? his own voice sounds small, hand gripping at tim's wrist for something to latch onto as emotion threatens to overwhelm his normal stoicism.]
I couldn't stop it. He wouldn't, not unless he had no other choice.
no subject
[instead hawk took it upon himself to do it. and the reality is: he'd do it again, no matter how much it's tearing him up inside to know he's hurting tim. hurting them both with the distance and the secrecy for a whole other set of powerful people, and this time he doesn't even know the end goal of the game, only that having favor here is surely better than not.
but that all melts away when tim lets him have this: a tight embrace, the intimacy he's craved and lacked for weeks now offered to him even amongst a somber backdrop of loss. he wishes they could stay like this forever, hawk dipping his chin against the space that always feels made for him at the juncture of tim's muscled shoulders and neck where he can inhale deeply and drink in everything that is his boy. but it can't last forever, and his eyes are already glassy when tim looks at him, jaw trembling for the briefest of moments at the tenderness he's offered before the revelation.
what does he even say? why? wesley smith - senator, mentor, father - he'd never have done this without reason. he must've been pushed into a corner. mccarthy and cohn getting away with goddamn murder, or maybe it was - lenny? frank was gonna come through, gonna get him the original arrest record, and then they'd be free and clear to tell senator bridges and welker to fuck off and shove their attempted blackmail up their asses without proof. is it his fault senator smith had to resort to this? his own voice sounds small, hand gripping at tim's wrist for something to latch onto as emotion threatens to overwhelm his normal stoicism.]
I couldn't stop it. He wouldn't, not unless he had no other choice.
I must have...failed him. Christ.