homosexuals | [SALTBURNT INBOX]

What? I didn’t think they were taking up that much space.

I was hoping we could…you know.

Both move back. When we’re ready.

It's not about the space.

[ Tim sighs, and drags his hand down his face. Nope, not doing this right now. ]

I'm not staying at Koby's until you figure yourself out, I'll die in there. But I don't want to argue in circles with you again. Can you please just get your stuff tomorrow? There's some clothes and books, and a hat. I threw out the cigarettes already.

Edited 2024-09-11 03:13 (UTC)

Can’t you just - put them in the other room? It’s still empty, isn’t it?

[god help hawk if it’s not.]

Deal with your own dirty socks, why should I have to?

[ Of course the other room is empty. He's not answering to be a brat. ]

Fine. I’ll come by tomorrow. But it’s staying in the other room.

Anything else?

No, I said take them, not move them next door. I don't want to know where your stuff is.

…Why does that matter? It’s not bothering you. It’s not in your room.

I will be back.

It is bothering me, or I wouldn't have called.

Hawk, I...I'm sorry, if I gave you the wrong idea the other night. I was drunk. I wasn't thinking clearly. I don't want you to come back.

[ A lie, and a bold one, but the truth is sadder. Tim doesn't actually believe he'll be back, at least not for good. It's stupid to want, and it's stupid to wait. ]

[there’s silence on the other end, hawk’s chest aching even as he wants to accuse tim of a bluff. what if it’s not?]

So that’s it then. The end of - us.

I...

[ Yes. That's what he's supposed to say, that it's been over, that it was Hawk's decision, not his, and all his attempts to string Tim along since then, that he'll be back at some nebulous 'eventually', are just selfishness. It should be easy.

But he hesitates, worrying at his bottom lip. ]

I told you, the night you left, that if you leave, you can't come back. You abandoned me anyway, in this horror show. How am I ever supposed to trust you again?

[ An out instead, the tiniest offering on the tiniest platter. Convince me. ]

Edited 2024-09-11 04:27 (UTC)

I can't abandon you, Skippy. I'm trying to keep you at arms length to keep you safe, and I keep coming back anyway.

Don't you get it -

[there's a harsh exhale, a noise like he's gripped too hard on the phone with a crackle of movement. the emotion is raw in his voice, wanting nothing more than to prove he'll be back. that they can weather this storm like any other.]

I can't stay away. Can't let you get hurt, but I can't...christ - [there's a choked laugh, frustration bubbling up and a muffled noise like he run his hand over his face -]

I'm only human. I'm never gonna stop wanting you. I saw what a life without you looks like, and it was worse than anything I'm dealing with now.

There's no magic bullet, no answer I can give you that'll make you trust me overnight. I know that. But I'm still gonna try, until you tell me no forever.

...Why'd you call about the socks, huh?

Stop saying that. The vampires and werewolves could come rip me apart right now and it wouldn’t hurt me as much as you have.

[ It’s bitter, but there’s a tremble in his jaw, a warbling in the breath he takes after he spits it out that wouldn’t be there if it were bitterness alone. What safer place could there be than next to Hawk? Every other day he finds out something new and disturbing about this place or its inhabitants, and he has no one to turn to. Koby and Quentin have tried, but he knows he’s a third wheel there, and there’s an ugly, screeching part of him that can’t watch them fall deeper and deeper in love by the minute while his insists that the best way for him to show it is to not be with him at all.

Tim closes his eyes, and he can see himself caving completely, if they were having this same conversation face to face. Hawk would run his hand through his hair, catch his eyes and look right through him, find the secrets hidden in the wrinkles of his brain that even Tim doesn’t know half the time, pull them out without even trying. He’d know that Tim still needs him, and he won’t have a bottle of wine to blame this time. He swallows, rough. ]

I need you to tell me when. If you can do that, then I can...I can think about it. But you can’t ask me to hold the door open with no end in sight.

...It’s not about the socks. It’s about having little reminders of you sitting all over the place.

[that's what i'm trying to keep from happening, is on the tip of his tongue, ready to be shouted or insisted even if it feels like he's talking to a goddamn brick wall when it comes to this.

but if it's hurting tim worse than the alternative, is it even worth it anymore? he's bone tired, hardly sleeping a wink in the days leading up to the full moons, poring over lore and fiction alike for some silver bullet he's missed to end the werewolf problem on the estate. it's not just for the balfours, it's so he can get back to tim, so everyone can be safe. but his discretion was one of his best strengths here, and he's not quick to lose the trust it's afforded him - just like he would if it were lucy or senator smith. even lenny...he'd done it to spare him the public humiliation and the indignity of exposure.

he's quiet a moment, thinking it over.]

Three more weeks.

[one more moon cycle.]

That's all I'll ask. And I know it's - a lot, to ask of you. Same as if I told you to leave the socks because I want you to think of me like I think about you.

...three more weeks.

[ It's the closest thing he's gotten to any real explanation since this whole mess started. Such a tiny scrap that he wants to press for more, like what, exactly, is so significant about the three week mark, or whether something is about to happen that he should be worried about. Tim can't trust him with his heart just yet, but he does know that he'd be warned if he were in immediate danger. The overreaction about Danny is proof enough of that.

So he bites his tongue. ]

And then what?

Three weeks, and then...

[and then he'll let him in. he'll give it a fair chance. he'll try.]

If your lock's still broken, I'm coming home.

And I'm gonna spend the rest of our time here - no matter how long or short - trying to make it up to you.

It'll take more than playing house for a few weeks.

I know that, Skip.

Whatever it takes.

Not just words, Hawk. Action.

[ He shouldn't believe it. He wants to, desperately, but a timeline isn't enough to make the fear go away, that in a few months he'll be right back here again, yearning for someone who drops him when he becomes burdensome. ]

I need a partner. Not a knight.

[ Blame the word choice on Alicent. ]

Actions. Trust me - I get it. I know what I need to do. For once, it's what I want to do too.

[but he's not going to spoil it by spelling it out. it wouldn't mean anything anyway.]

I'll save the roleplay for - another time.

Edited 2024-09-17 02:08 (UTC)

...okay. I'll think about it, then.

...Thank you.

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