[it's firm but gentle in its insistence, trying to break through the haze he knows must be washing over him from the way he's slumped against hawk, surrendering inch by inch and opening himself up for what he must expect to be punishment. and maybe another time hawk will take him up on that - bend his body and watch him arch in the inescapable grip of white hot overstimulation until his mind is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sensation of being owned by someone who doesn't give a fuck about his dirty deeds and his fuckups. someone without the same haughty disappointment as ash - someone who, fuck, he sounds like he's in a romcom thinking like this. but embry is someone who deserves to be absolved of these notions, that he should suffer and consume himself with the need that he even needs forgiveness.
hawk told him already - what he needs is someone to kiss him and do it often. and by extension, someone who doesn't have a goddamn expectation in the world or a pedestal he's got to struggle to stay off of.
months ago he would have been furious, would have come up with a way to say the footage was doctored or find a solution that might partially stick but wouldn't convince majority of americans already looking for a reason to raise their pitchforks against a pretty politician with just enough of a reputation to go pissing off a few key segments of voters. and maybe hawk won't admit what it is deep down that makes him want to protect embry like this, but that's what he's going to do all the same and sweep it under the easy rug of duty: he's doing his job. this is what he's here for, the one who can get his hands dirty like he used to for senator smith. because embry might not see himself as good and worthy, but hawk does. and even if he's a fucking asshole in the way he communicates it - ash does too.
his hands slide along the nape of embry's neck, lifting to cup his face when the man pushes up erratically onto his feet like he's still sluggishly feeling the after-effects of the drugs that dragged him into this situation in the first place. it would be so easy to push down his hands and sidestep his frantic clutching, but hawk lets it happen and takes the force of it with a placid smile. there's nothing mocking in it like there might have been under different circumstances - watching embry splinter apart under the weight of his judgment with an easy i told you so mixed into the appraisal under icy eyes and an even cooler head. there's something warm in hawk's gaze now, something he wishes he could impart even if affection and words surrounding them have never been his forte. one thumb swipes up, sliding to catch one of the errant tears before it can slide down his cheeks. it's unfair how embry wears his woe as well as one of the many finely fitted suits in his closet back home - but hawk doesn't want to see it. certainly not on his behalf.]
I can and I will.
You might torture yourself day in and day out for whatever it is that you think is better for him, but you're not a bad person. Maybe you do bad things sometimes, but christ, don't we all?
[he's trying to keep it light, conversational - as if he's merely talking about embry's occasional sticky fingers when it comes to fishing cigarettes out of his suit pockets.]
A bad person wouldn't do what you just did in there. A bad person wouldn't be trying to talk me out of it.
[a bad person wouldn't have been able to be taken advantage of - but he thinks that might break him if he says it out loud. so instead, before he can think better, hawk pushes forward and presses a soft kiss to the top of embry's forehead, patting his cheek and pulling back.]
I'm gonna take care of it, and then you and I are gonna get the fuck out of here and let this blow over.
no subject
[it's firm but gentle in its insistence, trying to break through the haze he knows must be washing over him from the way he's slumped against hawk, surrendering inch by inch and opening himself up for what he must expect to be punishment. and maybe another time hawk will take him up on that - bend his body and watch him arch in the inescapable grip of white hot overstimulation until his mind is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sensation of being owned by someone who doesn't give a fuck about his dirty deeds and his fuckups. someone without the same haughty disappointment as ash - someone who, fuck, he sounds like he's in a romcom thinking like this. but embry is someone who deserves to be absolved of these notions, that he should suffer and consume himself with the need that he even needs forgiveness.
hawk told him already - what he needs is someone to kiss him and do it often. and by extension, someone who doesn't have a goddamn expectation in the world or a pedestal he's got to struggle to stay off of.
months ago he would have been furious, would have come up with a way to say the footage was doctored or find a solution that might partially stick but wouldn't convince majority of americans already looking for a reason to raise their pitchforks against a pretty politician with just enough of a reputation to go pissing off a few key segments of voters. and maybe hawk won't admit what it is deep down that makes him want to protect embry like this, but that's what he's going to do all the same and sweep it under the easy rug of duty: he's doing his job. this is what he's here for, the one who can get his hands dirty like he used to for senator smith. because embry might not see himself as good and worthy, but hawk does. and even if he's a fucking asshole in the way he communicates it - ash does too.
his hands slide along the nape of embry's neck, lifting to cup his face when the man pushes up erratically onto his feet like he's still sluggishly feeling the after-effects of the drugs that dragged him into this situation in the first place. it would be so easy to push down his hands and sidestep his frantic clutching, but hawk lets it happen and takes the force of it with a placid smile. there's nothing mocking in it like there might have been under different circumstances - watching embry splinter apart under the weight of his judgment with an easy i told you so mixed into the appraisal under icy eyes and an even cooler head. there's something warm in hawk's gaze now, something he wishes he could impart even if affection and words surrounding them have never been his forte. one thumb swipes up, sliding to catch one of the errant tears before it can slide down his cheeks. it's unfair how embry wears his woe as well as one of the many finely fitted suits in his closet back home - but hawk doesn't want to see it. certainly not on his behalf.]
I can and I will.
You might torture yourself day in and day out for whatever it is that you think is better for him, but you're not a bad person. Maybe you do bad things sometimes, but christ, don't we all?
[he's trying to keep it light, conversational - as if he's merely talking about embry's occasional sticky fingers when it comes to fishing cigarettes out of his suit pockets.]
A bad person wouldn't do what you just did in there. A bad person wouldn't be trying to talk me out of it.
[a bad person wouldn't have been able to be taken advantage of - but he thinks that might break him if he says it out loud. so instead, before he can think better, hawk pushes forward and presses a soft kiss to the top of embry's forehead, patting his cheek and pulling back.]
I'm gonna take care of it, and then you and I are gonna get the fuck out of here and let this blow over.
Okay?