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It was a torturously hot summer day. The kind Hawk had never experienced growing up in Pennsylvania or in all his years spent in Washington. Had never truly experienced it until their first summer here. He wished he could say that the third summer was finding him acclimated to the heat, but Tim didn't like it when he fibbed. It was barely two o'clock and Hawk already felt drained to the point of exhaustion. But, the last time Tim caught him napping in the middle of the day (in the shade of their little garden by the pool), his angel had called him Grandpa Fuller for hours.
So, instead of napping in the shade as part of him wished, Hawk contented himself with enjoying the cool embrace of their pool.
Heedless of the sunburn he was courting for his back and shoulders, Hawk swam endless laps, cooling himself even as he indulged his vanity to keep in shape for his younger lover. The water was lovely, refreshing and soothing - the perfect remedy for the hot summer day.
Tim had promised to join him after he finished his chapter, catching up on the classics ahead of the new school year. Hawk didn't know how long it had been - nor how many chapters Tim would squeeze into the “after this chapter, Hawk, I promise” promise. But he missed Tim dangling his feet in the water, teasingly calling Hawk a siren sent to tempt him with his wiles. Even more than that, he missed leaning up out of the water and being reeled in for a slow, sweet kiss. Pulling Tim into the pool afterwards, kissing the protests from his lips. Chasing each other through the water, laughing and splashing - happy as could be. Plans he would follow through with soon - if his Skippy ever got his kissable nose out of his damn book.
Hawk swam over to the side of the pool closest to the vine-encased veranda garden, holding onto the edge.
“Skippy?” Hawk called, frowning.
He couldn't hear the idle humming or muttering Tim did when he was engrossed in something. Perhaps the heat of the summer day had sent Tim back inside their villa for a cold glass of the lemonade that Hawk had made this morning. But, beyond the birds and faint sounds of insects, Hawk could almost swear…
“Angel?”
Hawk hauled himself out of the water, the fabric of his swimming trunks clinging to the tops of his legs. He'd left a soft, fluffy towel on the edge of the pool (not one of the monogrammed ones Tim teased him for having), but he ignored it. The air was hot enough to dry him where he stood, his hair already beginning to fluff up into the curls he hated, but Tim loved.
Careful of the hot ground, Hawk padded towards the house, following that faint, familiar sound.
“And he had the nerve to call me grandpa,” Hawk muttered, stopping short as he stepped between two vine-wrapped pillars. “Oh.”
The sound was barely a breath, stolen from his lips by the sight in front of him.
Bathed in the sun's golden glow, Tim was sprawled in the new outdoor chair; one long leg stretched towards Hawk, the other drawn up on the cushion. His head rested on the back of the chair; hair flopping away from his forehead, glasses askew. Hawk's old copy of The Aeneid laid open resting on Tim's chest, not much further along than when Hawk had kissed him before diving into the pool.
Tim looked so at peace, it about stole Hawk's heart out of his chest. Would have done so, had Hawk's heart not long been in Tim's possession.
“Sweetheart,” Hawk called, keeping his voice pitched low.
Tim didn't stir, but almost invisible lines did disappear from his face.
Good.
Not that Hawk would object to Tim waking, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. And his Skippy looked so beautiful, Hawk just couldn't help himself.
It was the work of just a few quick moments to slip soundlessly into the villa and retrieve his spare camera from his office. Tim thought he had an unhealthy obsession with chronicling every moment of their lives, but the truth of it was, Hawk had never really thought he could have this - he couldn't stop himself from capturing the proof that they were really allowed to be living this life together.
And, Tim was perfect in every moment - Hawk couldn't help but want to preserve their memories for all time.
Knowing the sound of the camera shutter would wake Tim soon, Hawk snapped as many shots as he could, automatically rolling the film forward between each one.
Through the viewfinder, Hawk saw Tim's forehead crinkle, his nose scrunching the way it did when he was unwillingly roused from slumber. Hawk snapped another photo - catching Tim on the brink of waking.
His angel roused at the final click of the shutter, a frown pulling adorably at his features. His hand raised from the back of the chair, waving in front of his face as if to send away the sound of the camera.
Hawk chuckled, lowering his camera enough to see Tim without the lens of it. “Angel.”
Tim grumbled, lifting his head with the sweetest confusion. “What?”
Hawk leaned down, meeting Tim's lips with his own. “Hi, sleepyhead.”
Tim's hand caressed his cheek, the other raising to rest against his chest.
“Hello, beloved,” Tim replied, smiling at him through his exasperation. His eyes flickered to the camera in Hawk's hand. “Haven't you gotten your fill of photographs yet?”
Hawk pretended to think about that, sneaking another photograph of Tim. “No.”
Tim's face scrunched, failing to hide his love and amusement. “You're impossible.”
Hawk chuckled, settling on the free edge of the chair, removing Tim’s glasses and setting them down on the side table. “But you love me, Skippy.”
“Yes,” Tim agreed, his eyes going so soft. He stroked Hawk's curling hair back, fingers caressing his skin. “I love you, bumblebee.”
Hawk blushed (and not from the heat), pressing his lips to Tim's cheek. “Come on, angel,” he called, urging Tim off the chair. “I'll race you to the pool.”
He was racing off before Tim was fully on his feet, unashamedly cheating.
“Hawk!” Tim groaned, exasperated once more.
Tim jumped in the pool, hitting the water seconds after Hawk, sending a wave crashing over him.
Hawk shook the water out of his hair, grinning at Tim. “Is that how it's going to be, Skip?”
Tim hummed innocently, his hands splashing another wave towards Hawk. “Seems like it, beloved.”
Hawk treaded water, biding his time. “Loser makes dinner.”
“Good,” Tim smirked, angelic eyes glittering wickedly. “I love your cooking.”
Hawk barked out a laugh, moving slowly towards his love. “And I'm craving your chicken noodle soup.”
They ended up eating peanut butter sandwiches with their feet dangling in the pool. A perfect end to a hot summer day.