[christmas last year hadn't even happened on christmas. it had been two nights before, not even christmas eve, lest they get stuck in the hellish traffic and the rest of the world carrying on to see friends, family, and lovers they were allowed. this year hawk's done everything in his power to make it the perfect season. helping him with his christmas presents, cutting down that tree and letting him get tinsel over every inch of the room after, letting him play those songs until hawk thought they might have bored a hole in his skull for how much the lyrics were now ingrained between the folds of it - anything just to see him smile and revel in the shared intimacy they'd so long been denied.
alicent's death had been an ugly wrench tossed into the mechanism of the tim laughlin express, grinding him to a halt and forcing him to drop everything in favor of tending to her sons. hawk's supported where he can, but selfishly it's given him the opportunity to finish the last touches on this gift. he supposes it's more like a grand gesture in some ways, but it's the thought that counts. it'll be better than a blowjob and some cufflinks anyway, or so he hopes.
the day had started by waking him up with soft kisses, humming fucking silver bells of all things against his neck while letting him know good st. nick had a few surprises for them today. after breakfast he'd dragged tim to the theater, which had been reserved only for them complete with popcorn and soda and blankets. the lights were dimmed to run last year's macy's day parade, featuring none other than the rockette's in new york city.
i know we can't be there, but i thought it was the closest thing. you like it?
and then nerves eat at him throughout lunch and merriment and delivering tim's gifts and christmas spirit - waiting for the sun to creep lower and lower in the horizon before it hits the right line to make hawk lean over and murmur in his ear that it's time for the last part of his gift. he tells hawk to put on a coat, knowing they'll have to trudge out through the frozen grounds after they cross to the opposite wing.]
Somewhere special. Ready?
[it's not until they get to the exit that hawk turns, something gentle and a little reserved in the line of his jaw and the glimmer of hope in his eyes. one of his ties is pulled out of a pocket, extended not for him to hold, but to put over tim's line of vision so he can't see where they're going.]
D'you trust me?
[and as long as he does, he'll carefully loop the silk over his eyes and gently rest hands against his waist, guiding him past a few stragglers towards the outskirts before pushing outside into the cold with a soft easy, take a step into the grass. he switches to lacing his fingers through tim's hand and pulling him along the worn but familiar path towards the chapel, wondering if he'll still recognize it despite his lack of use of it lately.
the wood's been restained: a rich mahogany over dull brown. all the windows polished: glass planes replaced where they'd been shattered. blood's been scrubbed from the stone, and the shabby pieces of wood that had been falling apart have been re-sanded with new bark and made fresh. the candelabras have all been swapped for something less gothic and gloomy in nature: now bright gold, gilded and bright. he's even added a few lights to the low, beamed ceilings, letting it wash over as if god himself thought to shine down upon the place. and no, he's not into any of that whoo-whoo shit, but someone at the fair had told him sage was good for burning away demons and evil spirits attached to a place. it's been burned, along with fresh incense to make for an unfamiliar but clean scent now.
will it be enough? to forget about the bloodshed and the suffering wrought here?
he hopes so, exhaling lightly as he leads tim inside and carefully down the center of the pews right up to the altar as he stands behind his lover and puts both hands on his shoulders.]
You've been busy...so have I.
[hawk's fingers lift, threading through tim's soft chestnut hair and tugging the tie away to slip to the floor.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-01-01 11:46 pm (UTC)alicent's death had been an ugly wrench tossed into the mechanism of the tim laughlin express, grinding him to a halt and forcing him to drop everything in favor of tending to her sons. hawk's supported where he can, but selfishly it's given him the opportunity to finish the last touches on this gift. he supposes it's more like a grand gesture in some ways, but it's the thought that counts. it'll be better than a blowjob and some cufflinks anyway, or so he hopes.
the day had started by waking him up with soft kisses, humming fucking silver bells of all things against his neck while letting him know good st. nick had a few surprises for them today. after breakfast he'd dragged tim to the theater, which had been reserved only for them complete with popcorn and soda and blankets. the lights were dimmed to run last year's macy's day parade, featuring none other than the rockette's in new york city.
i know we can't be there, but i thought it was the closest thing. you like it?
and then nerves eat at him throughout lunch and merriment and delivering tim's gifts and christmas spirit - waiting for the sun to creep lower and lower in the horizon before it hits the right line to make hawk lean over and murmur in his ear that it's time for the last part of his gift. he tells hawk to put on a coat, knowing they'll have to trudge out through the frozen grounds after they cross to the opposite wing.]
Somewhere special. Ready?
[it's not until they get to the exit that hawk turns, something gentle and a little reserved in the line of his jaw and the glimmer of hope in his eyes. one of his ties is pulled out of a pocket, extended not for him to hold, but to put over tim's line of vision so he can't see where they're going.]
D'you trust me?
[and as long as he does, he'll carefully loop the silk over his eyes and gently rest hands against his waist, guiding him past a few stragglers towards the outskirts before pushing outside into the cold with a soft easy, take a step into the grass. he switches to lacing his fingers through tim's hand and pulling him along the worn but familiar path towards the chapel, wondering if he'll still recognize it despite his lack of use of it lately.
the wood's been restained: a rich mahogany over dull brown. all the windows polished: glass planes replaced where they'd been shattered. blood's been scrubbed from the stone, and the shabby pieces of wood that had been falling apart have been re-sanded with new bark and made fresh. the candelabras have all been swapped for something less gothic and gloomy in nature: now bright gold, gilded and bright. he's even added a few lights to the low, beamed ceilings, letting it wash over as if god himself thought to shine down upon the place. and no, he's not into any of that whoo-whoo shit, but someone at the fair had told him sage was good for burning away demons and evil spirits attached to a place. it's been burned, along with fresh incense to make for an unfamiliar but clean scent now.
will it be enough? to forget about the bloodshed and the suffering wrought here?
he hopes so, exhaling lightly as he leads tim inside and carefully down the center of the pews right up to the altar as he stands behind his lover and puts both hands on his shoulders.]
You've been busy...so have I.
[hawk's fingers lift, threading through tim's soft chestnut hair and tugging the tie away to slip to the floor.]