breathes an exasperated huff as he’s denied whatever it was hawks was going to tell him, irritation briefly flickering to life before fading away just as quickly. whatever he was going to say is equally as quickly forgotten as he’s gently startled —– having not anticipated the other moving onto his lap, facing him while being even more physically close than before. it’s … distracting. confusing. but it’s almost purely habit by now; the careful way he places hands on hawks’ thighs, couple fingers curled into his own palms to avoid anything troublesome. “ — easier said than done. ” response is off - handed, aloof. didn’t want to explain that he’d barely slept in the weeks hawks had been gone.
gaze remains downcast and hooded, guarded. watches his own hand as he draws idle shapes against the other’s hip. the only sign he was listening to what hawks was saying is the subtle change of his expression, scarred lips pressing together in discomfort. he didn’t want to talk about it, and neither did shouhei really, by the sounds of it. the words do little to settle his internal turmoil —– perhaps some of the other had said he didn’t mean. but there was no doubt that much of it he did. nor was tomura about to offer an apology or even a partial acknowledgement that what he’d said had been hurtful. that he’d been less than a second away from killing him intentionally.
his silence is prolonged / the quiet was usually a comfort to him, but now it was too loud with things both said and unsaid. “ you know it’s … difficult for me. ” it’s said quietly, just as equally vague with no context given as to what exactly he was referring to. nor did it really matter how hawks interrupted it — it would mean something, either way. he falls silent again, apparently having said all he wanted to say on the subject, but gaze remains averted. ——– at least until he eventually decides to lean forward and press his head into the other’s shoulder. tired. empty.
hawks doesn’t mind the silence now. it’s heavy, twisted, but it’s enough to endure so that whatever semblance of healing they’re doing now isn’t wasted on idle talk. he’s good at chattering when he’s nervous, but so much of it would be mindless now. he doesn’t want to talk anything that may be TOO MUCH, but he also won’t insult tenko by filling an already tense situation with white noise.
besides, he’s comforted by the soft press at his hips. keeps his focus on how fleeting the touch feels sometimes. it’s oddly gentle. but then -- shouhei had known it wasn’t impossible for tenko to show affection like this. quick, small bits of it afforded to the hero. where no one else would see, or know, and where it may disappear just as quick as it came. it’s been long, much too long, since hawks had felt that. he wants to indulge, even as his attention is quickly stolen by tenko’s words. the way he suddenly leans against him, as light as a feather despite the way he COMMANDS a room. like this, he’s not the leader of japan’s most nefarious villains.
the hero ( well, ex-hero ) hesitates for only a split second before he brings his hand to rest on the back of tenko’s head. fingers splay in near white hair, pinky resting at the skin on the nape of his neck where he rubs gently back and forth. “ ---- it’s alright. ” he says, finally, releasing a slow breath, “ you don’t have to explain anything. ” hawks knows that it shouldn’t be this easy. tenko had tried to kill him. hawks had used the memory of his trauma against him ( like so many before had ). they were playing a dangerous game. hawks was just too selfish to call it quits, not after everything. “ i don’t always understand, tenko, ” a whisper at the other’s ear, a kiss to his temple, “ but you don’t have to make me either. same for me. i won’t be upset. so it’s okay. it’s over. ” beneath his words lay concern, an unease borne in a slight waver of confidence. it is over now --- right ?? at least, this time.
