[because he doesn't do texting and he called hawk while the plane was landing. some shuffling in the background as he makes his way to the terminal. he sounds a bit tired, but entirely affectionate. short and sweet and to the point.]
Mon loup, I'm going to be at Saltburnt soon. Call me when you get this.
[there is no hesitation whatsoever - the second he gets the call, he picks up and dials august back. there is a pull he's never been able to explain, as if he's under a spell every time august is in the vicinity or his ear. it makes him think back to that night - christ, he wishes he could remember it better. it's very hazy.]
Not soon enough. You've got a bit of catching up to do, but it sounds like you might need some rest first.
[there he is. august picks up on the second ring with a liquid-smooth voice, someone who's mastered the correct tone and inflection for whomever he's talking to. he knows how hawk likes him to sound.]
Do I? [a faux submission, playful but seductive.] Are you going to warm some milk for me, too?
Although I should question how we both ended up here, I'm glad to see you're enjoying more than just the four walls of your home.
[ no, really. he's proud that hawk is out and about and doing things. especially over the last couple years. ]
Try to enjoy yourself. I'll expect a full report when we meet again. This place has a menagerie of rooms. Pick one, that's where our next session will be.
[hearing it makes his eyelids flutter, settling into something half-lidded as if gentle force. already he feels relaxed and dazed - somehow energized and waiting, placid for some further...instruction? purpose? it's a natural talent of august's, he's decided.]
Well, now you're just teasing me. But you know I will. I'll even split it with you.
[and then fall asleep alongside him, wake up and hope he's there but know like a wisp of smoke he's somehow evaporated and left him to wonder if it was all just a dream. there's a thrill to the mystery of it, though. enough that he keeps coming back.]
[after some nervousness and deciding whether or not to send a formal letter back, he opts for a voicemail. hawk sounds nothing but genuine, gracious and grateful, like he can't really believe he earned one in the first place. he's just a tennis guy, for christ's sake.]
Mr. Moore - I'm truly honored for the invite. Thank you for your consideration.
I'll happily accept, and if it isn't too forward - maybe I'll have the pleasure of shaking your hand. You and the President have done great things for the country together.
It's a funny story - I'll have to tell you the full one when I see you next. The long story short is: I met the Balfours in college. We kept in touch. Rosie's my goddaughter: the sweetest damn thing you'll ever see.
Yes, of course, though if you're on a sabbatical too I'd hate to interrupt. Otherwise - how about the hunting lodge?
Oh - that's extremely flattering of you. Very kind. Really.
[how does he take a compliment like this!!]
I'm awfully sorry if I missed you at breakfast. I'm - well I guess you know already, but I'm Hawkins Fuller. I'm Rosie Balfour's godfather, as a matter of fact.
Even if I was on a sabbatical I would make time for you. We've known one another for a long time, so it never feels like work. And never an interruption.
But you know the Balfours? I'd love to hear the story - the hunting lodge seemed quiet when I passed it on my morning walk. I think we'll have a great deal of privacy there.
It's a beautiful estate - I have other clients here, so it's for work, but I can't complain. They have an extensive liquor stock - maybe a finger of brandy for our hunting?
( Is it a misfire? Is it a sneaky way to talk to a hot new guest? Is he going to play at responsible house help, even though that's not what he is at all? Who knows. )Are you settling in alright? Is there anything we can do to improve your stay?
[a breathy laugh. august has all of hawk's soft spots in the palm of his hand, the more he presses the more he bends for him, earnest in his eagerness. he likes that about him.]
You like being teased. [he pauses, holding the lingering quiet as one would hold a bated breath. he wants to make him think in those two, three seconds. what's next coming from a silver tongue?] I want you to do something for me.
Well, any friend of Rosie's is absolutely a friend of mine. It's lovely to meet you, Armand.
I'm not much of an art connoisseur, but I do know their collection is full of some truly terrific stuff. What's your favorite piece? If it isn't too personal.
And it's sweet of you to support your sister during a difficult time - you two must be close. I was an only child...sometimes I wonder if I missed out.
Look, I'm terrible at keeping secrets. I already knew it was your birthday, I already have a gift, and I was going to try and surprise you with a private dinner.
That sounds nice. [ Like a little much. They met at a party a month ago, and reconnected...what, last week? This was meant to be a booty call, not...well. A grand courtship. But a gift and everything, huh? ] It'll have to be late. Every year my father wants to have a drink and apologize for being an asshole.
Ah. My father died when I was young. Sometimes I wonder if he would have approved of my life the same way my mother did. And I know you probably don't want to hear it, but someday you might look back on it and think differently.
Take the drink and hurry to me instead. I'd be happy to take your mind off of it and spoil you for an evening.
You're a world famous athelete and a gay trailblazer, what's not to approve of? I'm just getting in trouble. But let's not talk about him anymore. I want to hear about how I'm getting spoiled.
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