homosexuals | [SALTBURNT INBOX]

Dancing.

Are we talking the kind that belongs in Underworld, or something a little more moonlit?

I'll let you choose.

I've never been to the club downstairs with a date, though. Someone to keep me in line.

Get your dancing shoes on and wait for me in your room after dinner.

Sure thing, Daddy.

[sure thing, daddy.

it burns in his gut all night, sitting across from him at dinner, knowing he's gonna take his boy out dancing later. maybe the otherworld doesn't have the guaranteed safety of a place like the cozy corner, but it's not for everyone...and honestly? he doesn't have it in him to keep denying himself from the things he wants out of this opportunity anymore. months away from the man he loves has made him either lax or opened his goddamn eyes, but almost losing him to the possibility of someone else scooping him away maybe even moreso.

tim opening the door in only his dancing shoes wasn't quite on the agenda, but there's no way in hell hawk would ever let such a treat go wasted. so what if they're an hour later than he'd planned after dinner - the fun probably doesn't even get started until ten or after anyway, as if he'd really care about keeping track. but after he's coiffed back his hair into something respectable and tucked himself back into the confines of his tighter, more modern cut black jeans, he spares a glance in the mirror. there's just the barest glean of sweat at his temple, indicative of the exertion it had taken to pound himself into tim and leave him the parting gift of claiming his inside. a black...t-shirt, in lieu of a button down, and a slim-cut black blazer. the line it cuts on his figure is sleek, even if he isn't used to having it so close to his body. and tim liked tearing it off, if that's anything to go by.

his hand wanders occasionally to the small of tim's back as they walk through the hallways, greeting the doorman staffed there today, apparently giving giles the night off. and then it's inside the thrum of bass and bodies twined together - some pg, some decidedly x-rated. it's not his scene, but tim wants to be seen. there's a tightness in his gut, the lingering idea of constantly having to pretend otherwise, and he forces himself to try and dispel it.

his hand slides firmer over tim's waist, leaning in to try and shout against the music against the shell of his ear with a wash of warm breath.]

Well? You want a drink first? Can't promise you I won't have two left feet to this kind of music.

[ So much for taking it slow this time. But he couldn't resist the opportunity to be cheeky, or show Hawk how much he appreciates his willingness to do this with him. If it also happens to be true that every moment Tim's hands aren't all over him is an agonizing waste of time, then...well, everyone wins. Maybe he doesn't need to be as cautious as he thought he did. Since he's been back, Hawk's been more communicative, more understanding, more willing to take advantage of the freedoms of this place. They're going on a date, a real one, where they don't have to pretend they're only colleagues or pass Tim off as a nephew to be seen together.

Such a simple thing, but to finally have it after more than two years of back and forth with him, it feels like a revelation. A date, and an obvious one, with Hawk, the man he's been in love with from the first moment he touched him. Tim's too giddy to think too hard about getting ready, leaving his fingered-through, fluffed up sex hair mostly as-is while Hawk combs his back into place, and whatever mess between his thighs that escaped his lewd show of licking it from his fingers will just have to dry there, or keep him loose for when they get back.

He does go for a button-down, but sleeker and softer than the usual ones appropriate for daytime, a bronze-gold shift to the fabric when it catches the light. Tim's got it unbuttoned enough to show both the hair on his chest and a fresh love bite just under his collarbone, and dress pants he's been assured his ass looks great in (thanks Koby). And of course, a pair of smart shoes, the indents of which are likely still pressed into the backs of Hawk's thighs. Showing enough to enrage him if he hadn't been the one to suck the mark there there, or if the occasion didn't mark Tim so obviously as his.

Tim smiles ear to ear the entire walk there. ]

Yeah, let's get a drink.

[ He orders something fruity, with tequila, since Hawk was so enamored with that flavor of drunk last time. ]

It's not really about the music. [ He'd have asked to go to the piano bar if they were here for that. ] The thumping, I think it...dulls the senses? So you can only concentrate on the person you're with.

[ That's why he's made so many bad decisions down here. Definitely that. ]

Edited 2024-10-05 05:40 (UTC)

[SALTBURNT INBOX]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject