Chapter Text
In all his years spent at the State Department, Hawk had seen many people squirm. In fact, one might even say that making people so uncomfortable that they wanted to spontaneously combust or have the ground open up and swallow them whole was something of a hobby of his. (Even in this day and age, the glorious twenty-first century, it was truly mind boggling how many homophobic pricks still littered the halls of their supposedly grand institution.) But, there was a time and a place for such things. Hawk was a proponent of only terrorising those people who truly deserved it. The angel sitting all alone at a table for two definitely did not.
Maybe he did. Maybe he was a truly terrible human being who enjoyed kicking puppies, throwing stones at birds, and dreamed of one day running over a little old lady. Somehow, Hawk doubted it. He'd seen a lot of terrible human beings in his lifetime, had even been fathered by one, and somehow, he knew that the blushing angel across the room was nothing like them. Nothing like them at all.
Hawk absently sipped at his second scotch of the night, feigning interest in the tale Marcus was regaling him with. Something involving his concert pianist father's latest tour and possibly Frankie? To be honest, Marcus could be narrating on the plight of the aardvark and Hawk would be just as disinterested.
And, on that thought, perhaps Hawk was a terrible human being. Here he was at his weekly pre-pity-dinner drinks with his closest friend, and Hawk was more captivated by the sweet brown eyes of the angel in the restaurant than he was by Marcus's words.
But, Hawk had a good reason. Marcus was oozing that nauseatingly in love aura of those happily enjoying domestic bliss. Hawk was living the life of the sadly single, drowning his emotions - not that he had any, and if he did, they certainly wouldn't be anything as insipid as jealousy - in Glen Mhor.
Hawk wasn't jealous. He was a grown man with a very active sex life and no desire to try to correct his abysmal track record in maintaining romantic relationships.
It was just, well, Hawk could not stop looking at the angel.
There was something fascinating about the way the candlelight reflected off his glasses, the way it seemed to soften his already delicate features. Hawk hadn't really believed in romance since his high school sweetheart had discovered the grass really was greener on the other side of the tennis court, but the way that angel shuffled his book around on the table, glancing up hopefully towards the entrance every few minutes…
It awoke something inside of him. Made Hawk want to be someone he hadn't been in so long.
Perhaps it was his aura of innocence, the wide-eyed way he'd looked around the restaurant as he came in. Maybe it was the unconventional handsomeness he carried so well - so different from anyone else Hawk had ever cared to look at.
He felt the urge to protect. To shelter that sweet angel with his bow tie and thick glasses, and never let anything bad ever happen to him.
The feeling would pass, Hawk was certain. The fact that it was only getting stronger the longer he watched the angel sit alone, patiently waiting for his date, was only a minor inconvenience. Hawk would revert back to being his usual heartless self as soon as the angel's date showed up and groveled at his feet begging for forgiveness. Preferably, with a big bouquet of flowers and expensive jewelry. Hawk wasn't anywhere near the expert Frankie was in such matters, but he thought a nice pair of cufflinks would complement those elegant wrists nicely.
Until then, there was no harm in watching him. Just to make sure that nobody tried anything untoward with such a beautiful creature.
A stinging pain in his ankle pulled Hawk's attention back to Marcus.
Hawk would have glared, but that never had any effect on his old friend. In fact, Hawk considered it one of life's cruelties that Marcus had a far more impressive glare than Hawk.
"You haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?"
Hawk blinked, innocently. "Something about an aardvark, wasn't it?"
Marcus sighed heavily through his nose, giving Hawk a pointed look that said he wasn't half as funny as he thought he was. He did, however, look curiously over at Hawk's angel, a patient smirk on his lips.
"He's probably waiting for someone."
Hawk spent half a second debating playing stupid. Another innocent blink and an I have no idea what you're talking about smile already cued up in his mind. But, the angel glanced at his watch and sighed again, a resigned frown on his face.
The beautiful creature had been waiting alone for so long already, Hawk couldn't bring himself to deny what Marcus was implying.
"Whoever it is clearly doesn't deserve him."
"No," Marcus agreed, though Hawk didn't entirely like the suspicious light in his eyes. "Though, you've never cared for the White Knight role before."
"I contain multitudes," Hawk sniffed, sipping at his scotch. "And don't think I haven't noticed you texting Frankie for the past half hour."
He loved the pair of them, he really did, but their fascination with his personal life (or lack of, if Frankie's judgemental sighs were to be believed) was bordering on the ridiculous.
Marcus didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed at being caught out. “I'm just making sure he gets here safely.”
Hawk made a noise of understanding in the back of his throat. “And texting him, and I quote “he's still staring”, is helpful?”
Judging by the smirk on his friend's lips, the answer to that question was that it was definitely helping Marcus.
“I'm glad I'm providing you both with quality entertainment,” Hawk said, sarcastically.
“Honey, you've been doing that for years,” Frankie announced, breezing over to the bar with the same air of effortless energy and grace he'd had since they first met.
Hawk watched Marcus lean up to Frankie's greeting kiss - an automatic gesture, though no less tender for that fact - his own gaze helplessly drawn back to the lonely angel at the table for two.
Suddenly, it all just seemed so unfair. That Marcus and Frankie were so happy (and he wouldn't begrudge them for their fair share of it for anything in the world) and that someone so sweet and good (who wouldn't even touch the breadsticks in front of him despite the hunger he had to be feeling) was left alone. Alone and enduring the pitying stares of the other patrons.
No. No longer.
Hawk might not be a perfect man, but he was a better option than someone being left alone to suffer.
He stood up, tossing some bills on the bar to pay for his drinks.
Frankie's gaze snapped to Hawk, fondly, if a little warily. "And where do you think you're going?"
"To play knight in shining armour for that poor boy over there," Marcus grinned, nodding towards the angel.
Hawk rolled his eyes, secretly touched at how worried Frankie and Marcus were about him even after all he'd put them through.
"I'm here. I'm fine. I'm not going to go back to work or to drink myself to death at home tonight." Hawk nodded at Marcus, brushed a quick kiss to Frankie's cheek, and grinned. "Now, you two behave without me to chaperone, okay?"
Marcus chuckled, shaking his head at Hawk. "Oh, fuck you."
Frankie narrowed his eyes at his fiance. "This is a family restaurant, baby."
Hawk covered his mouth, coughing to mask the laughter bubbling in his chest.
Knowing the narrowing of Frankie's lips meant Hawk had about ten seconds before that glare was trained on him, Hawk drained the last finger of scotch in his glass and left the happy couple to their dinner date.
"Brunch tomorrow, Fuller," Frankie called to his back.
Hawk raised a hand, acknowledging his marching orders. Brunch was a small price to pay to escape an evening full of well-meaning concern that he was throwing his life away on meaningless hookups, binge drinking, and work. For this week, at least.
The wonderful “perk” of having friends who cared about him - weekly dinners criticising every aspect of his life.
Ignoring the feeling of Marcus and Frankie's gazes on his back, Hawk made his way from the bar to the dining area, waving off Rafael as he approached. His old friend would have to forgive him, there'd be plenty of time for them to catch up later.
Right now, Hawk was focused on a more important matter. Namely, making sure that amount of hurt never shone in his angel's eyes again.
That beautiful shade of brown was made for happiness, alight with hope and laughter, never the dullness of pain and loneliness.
Hawk nodded at one or two of the regular patrons before coming to stand by the edge of that gently candlelit table.
The angel looked up, an embarrassed, chagrined grimace on his lips. “Just a few more-”
“I'm sorry I'm late,” Hawk interrupted, letting himself smile at the angel's sharp intake of breath. “Minor crisis at State.” He nodded fractionally towards the empty chair, giving him the choice. “May I?”
The angel glanced furtively around the restaurant. Hawk could see the relief, the tension, leaching out of his shoulders. His smile was a beautiful thing: small, but bright. Hawk felt it warm some part of him that had long gone cold.
Almost more adorable than the combination of his angel's sweet smile and the way his hair flopped onto his forehead, was the way he awkwardly pushed Hawk's chair out with his foot. “Please.”