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Tim would be on his way to the front right now, and all Hawk could think about was that. He was physically at work, but mentally far away. Soon, he would be married to Lucy Smith and everything would be as it should be.
Lucy had offered to help him pack his effects now that they were making it official, and while he was at the office, she gathered some things left in his apartment. Hawk made sure there was nothing there that would make Lucy suspicious in any way. He was always careful with his private life, but who knows.
It must've been around 10 am when Lucy heard the subtle slide of an envelope under Hawk's apartment door. Before picking it up, she opened the door to see if the messenger was still there, but he had vanished. She took the letter in her hands, a simple "Hawk" on the upper face. She managed to look out the window and saw a young man in uniform slip into a car and leave.
She didn't really know why, but Lucy found the whole thing a bit suspicious and without further consideration, she opened the letter by sliding a finger under the flap of the envelope. They were going to be wife and husband, so there couldn't be any secrets between them, she thought.
" Dear Hawk, I went to the army to get away from you. I thought time and distance would help, but it hasn’t. Hawk, I still love you… "
Lucy had to stop for a moment and swallow, then continued reading. Fast eyes.
"... But I’m hoping to find something else, maybe a deeper faith someday. Tim ".
She couldn't believe what she'd just read. She tried not to believe it, even considered burning the letter. But suddenly, some things made sense. She thought about her brother, about how Hawk was just like him. She felt completely betrayed.
Around 1 pm, Hawk walked through the door, leaving his keys in the cabinet next to him and taking off his coat. He hadn't expected to find Lucy was still there, sat, waiting for him, pale and serious, almost eerie, with a blank stare and smoking a cigarette.
The letter and envelope lay separately on the coffee table.
- Luce, what happens? - He approached with a worried and confused face.
- You were going to marry me.
- Lucy, speak clearly, what’s that? - He pointed at the table with his head.
- Hawk, - she raised her gaze to meet his - don't make more excuses, I know what you are, and you were going to trick me into marrying me. - She was filled with rage.
- Luce, calm down, I –
- Don't ask me to calm down, Hawk. You have fooled all of us, me, my father... Leonard. How could you do that to him being... - Tears could no longer hold back in her eyes, and Hawk couldn't articulate a word, it was evident that no excuse could save him this time.
- Were you trying to use me? Play the happy family for the rest of our lives? Don’t you think I deserve something better, marry a man who wants me? You’re so selfish. - Hawk just stared at her, his eyes burning. He was aware there was no turning back.
- Hawk, I’m not going to say a thing about this, don’t worry, I’m done with drama, but I don't want you to come near me or my family ever again. The house my dad left you is still yours, I don’t want to know anything else.- She walked to the door without looking at him and closed it with a light slam, bringing Hawk back to reality..
He immediately picked up the letter from the table and read it with quick eyes, even though his vision was blurry. Everything went black. He collapsed into the armchair behind him as all the memories of the past few days came crashing down on him. All his life flashed before his eyes. He saw himself sending Leonard to that place where he knew exactly what would happen to him. He saw Tim's face as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces when he told him he was marrying Lucy, and now he had nothing.
He tried to reach for the whisky, anxious, to drink his own tears, as he always does. As soon as the scotch started to burn his throat, he threw the glass against the wall across the room and he fell to the floor sobbing, defeated. His world was falling apart.
When he managed to catch his breath, he read Tim's letter again. He’d read it before to find out exactly what Lucy knew, and now he needed to read it to know what Tim wanted to tell him. He said ' I love you '. He had failed him too. In his efforts to protect himself, thinking he was doing what was best for everyone, he had let the only real thing in his life slip away, and now he knew nothing could make him get over it.
Hawk couldn't sleep that night or the nights that followed. For the first time, he didn't know what he was going to do next, what would happen to his life, his job, or if Lucy had exposed him even though she'd told him she wouldn't. Now someone else knew what he really was.
He was afraid.
He tried to forget about everything as he always did, drowning his thoughts in alcohol and with strangers in bathrooms, but none of it worked, he loathed himself. He paced like a ghost on his way home and once there he looked at his desk.
He'd promised Tim he wouldn't write, but in his defense, he was the first to break that promise, so he started writing. He started writing letters he'd never send to the love he'd lost. Sending them would be too risky, especially for Tim, and the last thing he wanted was to distract him there and something terrible could happen. He started to think if Tim died there, it would be his fault, and he'd be the last to know because to the world, he was a nobody in Tim's life, and that burned inside of him, along with the fire that was still burning from all the other things he regretted.
He started by creasing about five pieces of paper with nothing but "Dear Tim" on them. The first letter he managed to write was a whirlwind of all the thoughts that were running through his head. He couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they ended up soaking the paper. In it, he tried to somehow organize everything that had happened, all his mistakes, trying to find a way to apologize, but the pain in his chest was so intense that every word he wrote was a huge effort; they weighed heavily. Still, he couldn't stop until he'd written two full pages. Somehow, getting all those thoughts out of his head onto the paper made him feel lighter, a little less heavy.
“ Tim, my Skippy (...) I go back to that moment all the time and how you held me in your arms that last night even when I broke your heart (...) I want you to know I had to break my own heart first to do that, and it’s not excuse but (...). You gave me all your love and all I gave you was this (...). I’ve lost you Skippy, I know you’re better without me. I wish I'd realized what I had when you were mine but you know me, you know I have to control everything in my life and now I’m a mess and I have nothing. I do not have you. (...). ”
He also told him everything that had happened with Lucy, how dirty he felt for doing that to Leonard. Tim was the only one he could tell everything to, even if it was in the form of a stupid letter he'd never receive. He always found a way to forgive him, even if he didn't deserve it at all. Hawk wondered how Tim's heart could possibly possess such kindness, that he could truly love him unconditionally, beyond measure. That made his heart skip a beat and he felt strong pangs in his stomach. How could he ask Tim to forgive him this time if he couldn't even forgive himself.
Hawk spent his nights up, writing and drinking, even putting the letters in envelopes and dating them as if they were really going to be sent.
Sometimes his eyes closed under their own weight, but he opened them shortly after. Every time he did, he saw Tim's face that night, his glassy eyes and his sweet heart broken into a thousand pieces; or Lucy's resentment when she discovered what he really was. Sometimes he even dreamed in split seconds, usually nightmares.
“ ... Last night I had a dream, well it was really a nightmare. I was happy, married to Lucy and we had two kids. We were in a big house, dancing, maybe celebrating. And then I saw you. You were looking at us through the window. I tried to run towards you but my legs wouldn't move and you started leaving.” Hawk’s heart started beating faster just at the memory. “Then I screamed at you but my voice wouldn’t come out. It was like screaming under water and then I lost you, again. ”
A knock on the door brought Hawk back to reality. He didn't care who it was, he didn't mean for anyone to see him like that.
- Hawk, open the door. I know you’re there. I can even smell your drunkenness.
- Go, Mary! I’m fine.- He shouted from the living room and drained the rest of his glass in one gulp.
- Hawk, I’m not leaving.
Hawk huffed, and finally opened the door, wearing his clothes from three days ago, disheveled, tired, and smelling of alcohol and cigarettes.
- You look terrible!
- If that’s all you have to say you can go.
- I’m sorry, but you could at least wash your face. - Mary said entering the apartment while the door closed behind her.
She looked around, curtains closed, poor light even if it was 11am, and a light mist that covered the room. The first thing she did was open the windows so she could breathe and Hawk complained about it.
- Hawk, it’s been four days since you last showed up at the office and I know it’s not because Lucy left you to go to Europe like everybody says. - She sat on the couch, pushing aside newspaper sheets with headlines about the Vietnam war. - I know there’s something else and soldier Tim has something to do with it.
- What do you want, Mary? My life is fucked up.
- I didn't expect you to be like this, to give up when things don’t go as you expected…
- To give up? - He said irritably, still standing. - Mary, everything is gone, Lucy was the last one, and I don’t think I deserve anyone’s compassion.
- What about Tim? He loves you Hawk, even if he himself knows that you are not good for him.
- That’s the problem. - He snapped, still angry with his brows furrowed but finally sitting on the armchair next to her - I don’t deserve him and neither his love nor his forgiveness. He’s risking his life in Vietnam just to get over me. - He said, trying to keep his voice calm, unsuccessfully.
- You’re being too harsh on yourself. - Mary said, softly, trying to understand him and not judge.- You definitely didn't do it all right, but it doesn't mean you lost him. You deserve love, Hawk.
He couldn’t keep his tears to himself anymore. He broke. - I don’t think so… - he said, in a weak voice, almost inaudible, looking at the floor.
- Hey, - Mary came over to take his hand. Suddenly that big and solid man looked like a little kid that just broke his favourite toy. She had never seen him like that, and her heart skipped a beat. - come on. Wash your face and put on some clean clothes. Have you been writing? - She said, looking at the ink stains in his hands.
Hawk pulled his hands out of Mary’s, sniffed and cleaned the tears at the corner of his eyes. - Y-yeah- he cleared his voice. - I’ve been writing to him.
Mary looked at him with tender eyes. Hawk hates being pitied. He stood up and asked Mary to leave.
Before leaving, by the door Mary turned and said - Hawk, please, take care of yourself, you haven't lost everything yet, even if you think so.
When the door closed, Hawk let out a deep sigh and ran his hand over his face. He did as Mary told him and finally took a long, hot shower, which made him remember the warmth of Tim's body against his own, and if he would ever feel that way again.
The next day Hawk returns to work with his best face. He greets Mary as usual and locks himself in his office. He'd rather continue wallowing in his misery and drinking whiskey, but he figured he could keep pretending to others, it's what he does best. If he still had his career, he wasn't going to lose it yet.
Walking home at night, he felt heavy, his legs moving out of habit, and his head felt stuffy. He didn't bother changing his clothes and sat on the couch, staring at the boxes of his packed life that were still where Lucy had left them. He decided he would leave that apartment where he felt the walls were judging him and move into the house Senator Smith left him. At least there he wouldn't have to bear the judgmental stares of his neighbors.
The house was close to town but far away enough to provide privacy. It was too big for a man with no family, but who cared. Hawk entered the dusty living room and placed his last box on the coffee table, one of the few pieces of furniture left there. To tell the truth, Hawk didn't have many belongings, he didn't like to hold on to anything or anyone, and now he suffers the consequences. He thought everything would be easier that way, without realizing the damage he was doing to himself, the loneliness it required.
He dusted a small bureau in the main bedroom just to put his letters to Tim in a good place. He no longer wrote every day, but he thought about it. He wrote to him practically every week to tell him about a dream, a memory, or update him about his life. Sometimes he just lamented himself. But those letters served as therapy to him, as if his Skippy were really there, wrapping his arms around him and telling him everything would be okay. He didn't drink as much anymore and he hardly cried, his eyes felt dry and tired, he still couldn't get a decent night of sleep.
Along with the letters, Hawk also saved a place to put Kenny's paperweight. The pressure in his chest grew worse every time he remembered how he had managed to fail again in the same way, now with Tim, and how he could follow the same fate as Kenny, it made it impossible for him to breathe.
When he calmed down, he thought maybe he should eat something. It's not that he had been eating very well the last few months, but with the move even less. He thought there must be something in one of the boxes, it was too late to go shopping.
He found a chicken noodle soup can and obviously remembered the first time he touched Tim. His beautiful boy. What he would give to touch him again.
It had been six months since Hawk felt his world crumble. Even though he tried to forget them, he lived surrounded by all the ghosts of those who had once mattered to him. Sometimes he felt the presence of Kenny or Senator Smith, and even though he felt like he had disappointed them, it felt good, a little bittersweet, to have them around. But other times, it was his father's ghost that haunted him, that shattered everything and made him feel like that fragile little boy again who didn't deserve to be loved .
The only comfort he could find was in the letters he wrote to Tim, which already formed a considerable pile in one of the bureau’s drawers.
His last letters were somewhat different from the first ones, he had stopped regretting some things and began to see possible solutions, something that seemed impossible to him before:
“ ... You know I've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance and up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm good with loneliness, because none of them was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception. I think I can’t live without you, I can't live with the idea of you hating me but neither with the idea of hurting you again, so I still don’t know what to do for once in my life… ”
“ ... You know I don’t believe in God, Skippy, but somehow I have faith. I have faith in you. (...) If I’m going to Hell anyway because of my sins, at least I want Heaven with you on earth. ”
Most of them were reflections for himself:
“ ... Skippy, I’ve hated my reflection when I saw myself in the mirror half of my life. I only saw the reproach and disappointment of a father who didn't love me right before putting on a mask every morning. But since I met you I – ” And sometimes he left the letter unfinished, mostly when he found himself near to say something like I love you .
There were days when he wanted to clear his mind and go out with Marcus to the Cozy Corner, but he always left as soon as some young man made a pass at him. He just didn't feel like going back to his old self, he thought it would lead him to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
Soon it was winter again, and Hawk still felt empty, missing Tim's warm touch. It had been almost a year since he left, and now he had about fifty unsent letters.
In his last letter, Hawk describes a beautiful dream he had, one of the few times he had slept more than a couple of hours in a row this past year:
“ ... Last night I put on some music. I’ve discovered that it helps to calm my nerves. It was a record I think you would like by Johnny Mathis. I fell asleep at some point and I dreamt of us dancing, fully naked, at ‘I look at you’, and I was kissing every inch of your body. I really miss your body… ”
Phone rings and Hawk expected it to be Marcus inviting him out, so he picked up to tell him that he preferred to stay home tonight.
- Hawk?- A soft, familiar voice called him from the other side. His body tensed and his heartbeat raised.
- S-Skippy? - he hesitated.
- Yeah, hi. Sorry for calling–
- Don’t say sorry, Skippy - Hawk interrupted.
- Okay - He could feel him gripping the phone tightly from his side, nervous. - I’ve been talking with Mary… I would like to talk with you, in person. If it is possible for you.
- It is. - Hawk said almost at the same time Tim finished his sentence. Anxious.
- So, could we meet tomorrow, at that cafe you used to like?
- Alright. - He was expecting something more private or intimate like his house, but then he remembered that Tim was probably going to tell him to forget about him once and for all, that the army has made him make a decision. What would Mary have said to him?
- See you - Tim hung up the phone before Hawk could add anything.
He left the phone and sat down for a few minutes to serene himself. Then, he stood up and drank a whole glass of water, looking at the whiskey besides the telephone. Old habits were not an option right now.
Morning came and Hawk obviously hadn’t slept a wink. He showered fast and dressed himself, not in his usual suit, but in a soft and warm dark blue sweater and grey trousers. That morning was a really cold morning, at least for him. Hands freezing and shivers.
Before leaving, he thought he should take all the letters with him. They should reach its recipient.
Once in the street, the cold air hit him in the face. He realized that from today on, his life would change forever. He didn't know if he was going to get Tim back or lose him forever, he didn't even know what would happen tomorrow.
He reached the door of the establishment and took a deep breath. Through the window, he recognized Tim, sitting with his back to the door, smiling kindly at the waitress. His heart skipped a beat. You can do this, come on , he told himself before abruptly opening the cafe’s door.
A bell rang and he was inside. Tim turned at the sound and he met Hawk’s eyes, strange expression, like longing and forgiveness, meanwhile Tim’s eyes looked like time hadn’t passed, familiar.
Tim stood up to say hi. A little bit uncomfortable moment. Hawk felt like he couldn’t breathe but he tried his best to look normal and not to faint.
- Hi, Skippy.- He said while sitting at the other side of the table.
- I ordered you a coffee, hope that’s okay.
- Yeah, it’s perfect. - Hawk said with a nervous smile, looking at Tim’s face and quickly fixing his eyes at his coffee. He knows if he makes eye contact with him right now he will lose it.
After a few seconds he starts - Why did you want to see me here?
Tim barely sips his tea and answers - I told you I talked with Mary… First of all I’m sorry that Lucy…
- No, Skip– - He sighed and closed his eyes before looking at Tim.- You know that should never have happened. She… she read your letter.
Tim's expression shifted. Eyes wide and lips parted. - Hawk I – . Tim reached for Hawk’s hands that were holding his cup of coffee but realized mid-way they were in public, so he drew back his hand.
- It’s okay. It was going to happen sooner or later. That marriage wouldn’t have made anyone happy. It was a selfish decision even if I thought it was for the better. - Finally Hawk met Tim’s eyes and weakened. Those doe brown eyes of his, always looking like he was sent from Heaven to forgive all his sins. But they had something new, Hawk didn’t know exactly what it was but he liked it. - Skippy I’m sorry for everything. I think I just made your life more difficult since we met. - He said, lowering his voice, remembering they’re in public and people don’t mind their business. It hurts but those are this world’s rules.
- Hawk… - Tim started, glassy eyes. He’s seeing what Mary meant with “He has changed. I’d never tell you to go see him if I didn't believe he had really changed .”
- Let me finish please. I’ve been writing. - He took a bunch of letters tied with a string out of the pocket of his coat. He started looking even excited about it, in a delusional way, and he knew it. - I know, I know. I promised you I won’t write, but in my defense, you wrote first.
Hawk handed the letters to Tim and he looked at them, unbelieving. - Oh, God. Mary told me you’ve been writing letters but here’re at least a hundred of them, Hawk.
- Not a hundred, but I wrote to you practically every week since you joined the army. You have helped me even if you didn’t know it. I started to understand what you see in the confessional.
Tim couldn’t believe it.
- You can read them or burn them if you want to, but I thought you should have them. - Tim nodded, still confused but his heart softened.
Hawk finished his coffee and left before Tim could say anything more. He was afraid, still smiling but a headache was brewing in the back of his head.
He ran home to wait. To wait for anything.
Next day passed slowly. Hawk called work to report his absence so he could wait for Tim to call. But it never happened. He started to think it was really the end. He would quit his job and leave, somewhere else, wherever but so far away.
It was two in the morning and Hawk kept wandering around the whole house when suddenly, three hurried knocks on the door caught his attention. He went rapidly to open and found Tim.
- Skippy, how do you know where this house is? - Hawk said, surprised.
- Mary told me. Can I come in? - He said, gasping, as if he had run all the way to the house.
- Of course. - He stepped aside to let Tim in. - Would you like something to drink, water, milk?
- A glass of water would be nice, thank you. - He approached the fireplace and tried to steady his breathing. It was freezing outside.
- Here. - Hawk handed him the glass and lightly brushed his fingers, pulling away quickly. - What’s that urgent at 2am Skippy? The air cut cold out there. - He scolded him, but he was glad he was there.
Tim gulped the water before speaking. - I’ve read them. All of them. - He was still anxious. Trying to steady his breath.
- The letters?
Tim nodded. - Hawk, you’ve changed. The Hawk in the first letters was a drunk mess who thought he didn’t deserve any good in the world. - Tim said as he approached Hawk. Closing the gap between them with every word.
Hawk head felt like levitating. His body wasn’t his. He stepped close to Tim too, instinctively, close enough not to touch, letting him speak.
- The Hawk in the last ones, the Hawk in that cafe is a new Hawk. A Hawk that would talk to solve problems, count with someone else, searching for help.- Tim got close and touched Hawk’s face gently with his hand, and he melted at the touch, closing his eyes and dropping the tears that could no longer be held in the corners of his eyes. - You’ve never been alone, Hawk. You deserve happiness and love - Tim said, almost whispering as he cleaned a tear from Hawk’s cheek with his thumb.
Hawk opened his watery eyes as Tim cupped his head with both hands, unable to speak. - I tried to make you understand all that the time we were together, and this time we’ve been apart you finally did. I’m proud of you, Hawk. - He thought he had never heard those words before.
He finally couldn’t bear it and softened into Tim’s embrace, fitting into his neck as if he had always belonged there.- Don’t leave me again, Skippy - Hawk breathes against his skin, giving Tim shivers. - I won’t. - Tim said, tightening his grip.
Hawk kissed softly his neck and let out a small, heartfelt I love you in Tim’s ear.
Surprised by the honesty of his own words, Hawk pulled apart a little, enough to meet Tim’s glassy eyes, illuminated only by the fireplace.
-You know, - Tim started, with a fond smile while holding Hawk's hands- I've read exactly fifty-three letters that you wrote telling me you loved me, but hearing the exact words from you… It is important to me. - Hawk raised one of Tim's hands and kissed his palm, leaving it there. -It makes me think of when we were at My Khe beach, in Vietnam. It was pouring, thunder everywhere. It was scary and beautiful, I was amazed by it. It made me think of you, and I understood. I understood that no matter how far away I was, I could never stop loving you, exactly as you are, thunder and everything.
Hawk felt safe, felt loved and felt at home, just in Tim’s arms. He never really had a home, even with the Smiths he could never be himself or feel loved unconditionally. But with Tim, it was his first time feeling himself, feeling.
Hawk doesn't want to be separated from Tim anymore, no matter what happens he doesn't want to feel that emptiness again, to miss the warmth of Tim's body.
- I want to make love with you, Skippy. I want to feel you.
They finally melt into a kiss, passionate, as if they hadn't seen each other in lifetimes.
Their skin burned under their clothes, taking them off instinctively, almost without noticing, and they were naked.
Hawk just wanted to touch, kiss, lick every inch of Tim's body. Drawing with his tongue and lips from his jaw to his throat, delicate yet hurried and Tim couldn't resist letting out a moan.
At some point Tim also lost his glasses, added to the dim light from the fireplace, what made all his movements practically by heart. He could feel every muscle in Hawks body moving around him, holding and studying him.
In a moment, they found themselves lying on the rug in front of the fire, they couldn't even make it to the bed. Some cushions from the couch were all they needed for a bit of comfort, but they really didn't care at all.
They kept kissing like their life depended on it. Deeper each time, tongues mixing until they felt they were just one. The friction of their bare bodies felt like electricity. Hands were everywhere.
Hawk instinctively ended up on top of Tim, kissing his chest, taking one nipple to his mouth, sliding his hand from his chest hair to his belly, and Tim was nothing but a mess, scratching Hawk's back. He moaned. Fortunately there were no neighbors nearby and he could be as loud as he wanted, as if they were the last men on earth.
-Skippy…- Hawk murmured against his belly, kissing a spot there. - I want to feel you inside. - Lustful eyes met and Tim immediately grabbed Hawk, putting him under, holding his gaze before giving him a sloppy kiss.
It was then that Hawk could recognize that thing in Tim's eyes, his boy was now a man.
Tim prepared Hawk for him. He saw the trust in his eyes, the wanted. He belonged to Hawk, but for the first time, he was sure Hawk also belonged to him.
Tim licked his fingers before sliding one, then two inside of Hawk, carefully, never losing eye contact. With the other hand he placed one of Hawk's legs on his shoulder, opening him more.
Tim saw how Hawk told him he was ready, no word needed. He spat in his hand and gave some strokes to himself before putting his tip in Hawk's entrance, carefully, softly. Hawk groaned just at the light touch. -You can take it, love.- Tim said as he slided a bit more inside of him.
Hawk grabbed Tim from the nape of his neck to suffocate his own moan with a messy kiss, pulling gently but firmly on his hair.
It was not much later when Hawk was spilling on Tim's fist and on his own belly, followed by Tim filling him with a white-hot wave in a firm thrust, both loud whimpering. Then he fell into Hawk’s body, kissing gently his chest before pulling off of him, carefully. And Hawk gasped at the sensation.
They lay next to each other, tangled under a blanket, Tim running up and down Hawk's back with feather fingers, as he used to do, drawing circles around his war scar.
-Hawk…
- Hmm? - he answered, completely relaxed, about to fall asleep.
- What are we gonna do now? - Tim asked, with a voice like an innocent child.
Hawk opened his eyes slightly to look at Tim's, that looked a little bit worried but he was calm, happy.
-I don't know - he said while leaning closer to kiss Tim's nose. - But I know I'm going to be with you. - Wide smile and looking at Tim's mouth, giving him a quick kiss..
Hawk snuggled back into Tim's arms and finally, after almost a year, he fell asleep without a thought in his head, feeling guilt-free and real happiness, feeling safe.
___________________
EPILOGUE:
The fireplace was now nothing but ashes, and the heat came from rays of sunlight filtering through the half-closed curtains, lighting their faces.
Hawk was the first one waking up, as usual, but this time he could stare at Tim all the time he wanted because no one had to leave. For the first time in a while, he woke up warm and smiling. Tim was the only good thing in his life and he wasn't going to fuck it up again.
Tim woke up slowly as Hawk gently brushed his face with his knuckles. - Good morning Skippy. - He kissed his nose and Tim smiled before lightly opening his eyes.
-Good morning, honey. - Tim said with a sleepy voice while holding Hawk tightly in his arms.
- Wow, wow, it seems like someone loves cheesy nicknames.
- No, I just love you, baby. - Tim mocked, leaning to kiss him.
- By the way, Hawk, there was something I wanted to tell you. From your last letter.
Hawk was worried he had done something wrong that quickly, but he was able to.
Tim pulled away a bit just to sit up, and Hawk's heart started beating fast, he barely remembered what was in that last letter.
- It’s something about that dance.
- Dance?
- Yeah, when you dreamt of us dancing naked at Johnny Mathis’ song.
- Oh, that. - Hawk relaxed his muscles and let out his breath - Do you want us to…
- Yes. Since I read it I've been thinking about it.
Hawk looked at him with a smirk. - I would never say no to my boy's desires.- He stood up, still fully naked and put on the record, just in that one song, ‘ I look at you’ .
Hawk invited Tim to dance holding out his hand and Tim took it, like they were on the dance floor of the most luxurious place.
They joined every inch of their bodies, holding hands, touching everywhere with their eyes closed, smiling against each other's skin. Swinging. Just the music and them.
Hawk felt like he was holding water in his hands, as if that weren't real, but it was. Tim was real this time.