When Kavo woke, Hawk was no longer beside him. He couldn’t say he was surprised—he had known and even been warned that this would happen—but worry still seized his heart with an icy iron grip. Perhaps, he hoped in vain to himself, Hawk had simply gone to mess. He always had been an early riser.
Kavo slowly clambered out of bed. His every joint was stiff from the exertion of the previous night, and there was a deep ache that sprang from low in his back. He and Hawk had been practically insatiable the previous night, until Kavo had thought he was literally going to break in two. Not to mention Hawk was deliciously torturous, tantalizing him by drawing everything out for hours. And then, when Kavo had finished… a tremor racked his body at the mere memory of it. It had been more intense than anything he could have ever dreamt. Let it never be said that Hawk wasn’t talented in bed, because he was beyond all belief. It really should have been illegal.
Kavo cast his eyes to the mirror in the corner of the room. He looked like hell. His hair was tangled in ways he’d never seen it before, his mouth was bruised, and an assortment of bruises and hickeys covered nearly every inch of his body. Hawk had made damn sure that no one would misinterpret what they’d done, especially considering this wasn’t something he would broadcast to the entire airship (and possibly more).
Kavo couldn’t say he didn’t like it, either. He had never felt more at home than when Hawk had done all those things, and each mark was a reminder of every perfect moment. He wouldn’t have given it up for the world. He only wished that he wouldn’t have had to; he knew without leaving his room that Hawk was likely long gone.
Sighing, Kavo rubbed his neck. He only allowed himself a moment longer of self-pity before he gathered some clothes and pulled them on to go save his idiot lover. He didn’t care if he’d agreed to let Hawk go last night; Kavo needed him as much as he knew he was needed, and so he would preserve their relationship. He had to. He didn’t want to revert to the man he’d been before Hawk had stepped into his life.
Rubbing absently at his hair, Kavo stepped out onto the deck. A small group of the men was gathered nearby; Kavo decided he’d start asking there.
“Hey, have you guys seen Hawk?” Kavo asked. His voice sounded odd, scratchy. Had he screamed last night? Probably.
“You look like shit,” Torian was quick to point out. “Did Ryk come back for you?” he half-joked.
“Ha, funny. Don’t have the time,” Kavo said. “Where’s Hawk?”
“Uh, he said something about taking a pod for the day. Did you two fight?”
Thoughts racing, Kavo offered half a chuckle. He and Hawk had done quite the opposite of fighting, actually, unless one wanted to call what they’d done “wrestling.” But semantics didn’t really matter at that point; that could all be worked out later. He wanted to find Hawk before he did something they’d both end up regretting in the end.
Kavo moved over to the mini-garage for a quick inventory. Hawk, the intelligent man he was, had taken possibly the oldest one they owned; it wouldn’t have a GPS tracker or most of the safety equipment. It was quite clear he hadn’t planned on coming back. Kavo would change that, though.
“I’m taking one, too,” he said carelessly, already hopping into one. He hoped he could still remember to fly.
Kavo didn’t wait for a response, because he wasn’t going to give anyone even half a chance to stop him. He was going to save Hawk, take him back into his arms, and swear that nothing would ever touch them again. They’d be invincible together; Kavo would make sure of it.
He hated that someone had hurt Hawk, even in the past, before Kavo had known him. Even thinking of himself wanting to cause Hawk any sort of harm angered him; Hawk deserved to live peacefully and happily, without troubles and toils. Hawk was so beautiful, inside and out, and had never once done something that was undeserved, although he’d lived through countless tortures himself. Hawk was perfect. The world needed that sort of perfection in it; it needed someone like Hawk simply to exist, to restore hope and balance. He had certainly brought stability to Kavo’s world, all while sending it crashing to the ground like a fragile, centuries-old pane of glass.
Fuelled by anger and a need so great that it surpassed all scientific logic, Kavo pressed a series of buttons. The pod zoomed out of the garage.
It took more fiddling to find his place on the built-in map, and slightly more to find the skyport where Hawk would be heading; Sol would have been the one nearest to Hawk’s home, and Kavo imagined that was where he’d want to exact his revenge.
Really, and Kavo had heard that the Islanders were normally a rather peaceful type, content to live out their own lives, even if a little savage at times. Hawk, on the other hand… he was such a contradiction to everything Kavo had ever known— or at least thought he had known. Kavo had “known” quite a few things that Hawk had disproven: he’d thought he was interested in only women; he’d thought he’d hated Hawk and wished him dead; he’d thought that all Islanders were stupid and oblivious. Instead, he’d been shown that he could love Hawk, one of the most brilliant men who had ever walked the earth. If someone like him could truly find love, Kavo knew he should fight to keep it. Letting go of the connection he’d found would almost be slapping Fate in the face, and he didn’t want to bring a curse upon future generations of his name (if that would ever exist, and it probably wouldn’t).
After soaring for what seemed to be an eternity over sparkling blue oceans and rolling green hills and other things Kavo couldn’t be bothered to give a rat’s ass over, he approached the Islands of Zion.
It was then that he realized he had one slight problem: he could see Sol, but he didn’t see Hawk’s pod.
Worry gripped him again like a vice. Had Hawk crashed? What if he was buried beneath the sea? Kavo would never find him. He’d flown over miles and miles of land, too; Hawk could have been anywhere there, and that was assuming he’d taken a straight path from the airship to Sol. Kavo couldn’t be sure that that was the case, as Hawk had relied only on his instinctive sense of direction and the position of the sun to get there.
Gripping the controls tightly, Kavo directed the airship around in a circle, seeing if he could spot the remains of an ancient pod. Just when he was getting ready to give up, he saw it: the thin, wispy trail of smoke exuding from a crash site. He felt the first glimmer of hope reach his frozen heart; Hawk could be down there. Without a second thought, he zoomed down through the canopy of trees with a warmth spreading throughout him. If only he could find Hawk, then everything would be okay; he kept telling himself that, over and over again, until he could land and clamber out of his pod.
“Hawk!” he called, still stumbling out of the miniature craft. “Where are you?” Kavo spotted the old dinosaur of a pod that had sent for his help by the means of a smoke signal, however unintentional. There was no denying that it was from the same airship, but where was Hawk? Kavo didn’t see him anywhere. “Hawk— Chayton— you bastard, if you’re dead…”
Kavo heard a familiar cough nearby. It was the most beautiful noise he’d heard in his life, whether it was good or bad; it meant Hawk was still alive, although perhaps not well. But Kavo had a chance to save him, and he took it. He ran toward the cough as if his life depended on it— seeing as Hawk’s did, his may have as well —until he found the beautiful man he was looking for.
“Chayton,” he breathed.
Hawk had somehow gotten himself wedged beneath a fallen tree; his chest and right arm were eclipsed entirely by the trunk. Kavo fell to his knees, hands searching for a way to help but unable to do anything useful.
“Kavo… what are… why are you here?”
“I’m here to save your stupid ass,” he choked. His fingers stroked over Hawk’s stern brow gently. “How could you leave like that? You didn’t… I wanted to say goodbye.”
Hawk’s left arm, the one not crushed beneath anything, rose to hush Kavo. “If I had, you would not have let me leave. I would not have let me leave.”
Kavo took Hawk’s face in his hands without once taking his eyes away. “I don’t want you to leave me. Chayton, I need you. I love you.”
“Do not say that. While I am lying on my deathbed, do not say that.”
Tears welled up in Kavo’s eyes; being around Hawk made him overemotional, made him prone to overreacting. “You don’t say that,” he murmured. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine.”
“Realistically, I know I am trapped.”
Kavo stood. He would not let Hawk die here; he would not let his love perish if he could help it.
“I think there’s a chain or a rope or something in my pod; there has to be. I can get you out of this.”
Kavo ran through the trees to reach his pod, his uncanny sense of direction weaving him past all obstacles. One way or another, Hawk would live, even if Kavo had to forsake all natural laws of logic and reason to ensure it would happen.
He came upon his pod and hopped inside, rifling through the limited supplies. Beneath a pile of cheap dry food and a spare set of plain, oversized clothing was a thick chain with large links. He hoped it would hold up against the Jurassic tree waiting for it.
Praying to anyone who would listen that Hawk had survived without him for the five minutes he’d been gone, Kavo started his pod back up and flew it low to the ground; he had to carefully manoeuvre through all sorts of foliage, but it was worth it to keep from missing Hawk another time around.
He didn’t even completely land the pod before he jumped out onto the ground beside Hawk.
“Alright, Hawk, I’m going to attempt to lift this off. It’s probably going to hurt.”
Wincing, Hawk nodded. “You do not need to warn me about the pain,” he said. Kavo gave a wry smile and knelt down to fix the chain to the tree, close to Hawk’s arm so that he had room to get his hand under the heavy trunk. “Please do it quickly,” he requested.
“Of course, Chayton.”
Kavo tugged on the chain, and it seemed secure, so he jumped (quite literally) back into his miniature ship. With any luck, he wouldn’t make things worse for Hawk; with any luck, it would only take one quick rev of his engine to pull the tree off; but Kavo was not known for being a lucky fellow. Even so, he found himself praying again, despite not being religious, that Hawk would come out of this alive.
He didn’t know what he’d do otherwise.
“Let’s do this.” He shifted gears and pushed the pod forward.
The pod didn’t budge. For a long, tense moment, Kavo simply kept trying to propel the pod with his thoughts and his hands, but it was resisting harder than he’d ever felt something so light resist.
And then, as if the Fates had suddenly begun to listen to him, the tree lifted. Kavo refused to slack off, and only pressed harder. The tree continued to rise. It fit back into the hole it had left in the ground. Kavo kept pressing. The tree slowly tipped over.
Then it fell. Kavo was tugged sharply down, along with the machinery he was encased inside. The pod crashed into yet another tree of the forest, and Kavo tumbled out and landed roughly on the ground.
Rubbing at his bruising backside, Kavo stood. The tree was off Hawk, but that seemed to be the only good news. A glance back at what had once been his pod showed that they now had no way of returning to the airship. He supposed he would be forced to deal with what they did have, which was each other; at least things weren’t at the worst yet.
He returned to give Hawk a look-over. Things didn’t look promising: one of Hawk’s legs was bent at an odd angle that couldn’t have been natural under any circumstances if it weren’t for the broken bone, the edge of which Kavo could actually see beneath Hawk’s dark skin; his entire right hand, which was normally mechanical and practically indestructible, all through his forearm was completely missing, most likely shattered or torn off during the messy collision; there was a pronounced wound in his chest, where it appeared a branch had gone through, as the shirt and the flesh was torn and out poured deep blood; and his chest and right arm likely was at the very best all but liquefied, with no fewer than three more broken bones. Kavo wasn’t sure how he was going to get Hawk out of this one.
“Chayton…”
“Kavo.” He stared up for a moment, amber eyes undoubtedly clear. Kavo was lost in them— always lost in Hawk— and could only find his way through Hawk’s touch, which didn’t and couldn’t come. “Do you truly want to save me?”
Searching for some sign of a joke, Kavo breathed, “Of course I do.”
“Come here.” Kavo knelt, obeying. “There are some materials in my pockets. Take off my shirt.”
A shudder ran through Kavo at the idea. Taking off Hawk’s shirt sounded like an absolutely wonderful idea, in fact. The mere memory of the last time he’d seen Hawk shirtless— the previous night, actually— caused so much desire to course through him that he had to take pause for a moment. Hawk only breathed heavily in wait.
Eventually, Kavo did begin to unlace Hawk’s shirt, but Hawk protested, “Not that way. You will need to cut it off. Do not move me yet.”
“A-alright.” Kavo grabbed the knife around his ankle and did as told.
“Now get my needle and thread. You need to stitch me closed first.”
Again, Kavo obeyed; he could do nothing else. He followed Hawk’s every instruction to the t until Hawk finally declared that there was nothing else that could be done for the time being.
“Let us find shelter,” Hawk suggested.
“Of course.” Kavo helped the other man, wrapped in bandages and wearing about three or four different splints about his person, into a standing (leaning) position.
Hawk grimaced and held tightly to Kavo’s shoulder. “Wait,” he demanded. “My arm, it… it definitely needs a sling.”
Kavo bit his lip. What could they use? He looked down at himself, deep in thought. It was a little dirty, but he didn’t need his shirt, and it would do. “Hold on.” His fingers worked to quickly unbutton his shirt, and then he shrugged it off his shoulders, careful not to push Hawk off him and to the ground. “C’mere,” he said unnecessarily; Hawk couldn’t move, no matter how much he was prompted, unless Kavo moved him. As if only suddenly realizing this, Kavo pulled Hawk’s large back flush against his now bare chest, which immediately felt sparks at the contact. He tried to ignore it and wrapped Hawk’s greatly injured arm in his shirt as cautiously as he could, so as to keep from causing his lover (Kavo would make sure that they were, after all this trouble) any sort of undue pain, so long as he could help it. He tied the fabric around the other side of Hawk’s neck, fingers lingering for a moment against the warm skin; he never wanted to stop touching Hawk, really. Still, when Hawk shuddered, Kavo retracted his hands until he moved to support Hawk’s weight— or as much of it as he could— on his shoulders.
“Are you ready, Chayton?”
“Yes. Can we move now?” Hawk still sounded very much in pain, but Kavo knew he didn’t like standing still while there were things to be done, so he firmly placed a hand against the small of Hawk’s back and they started walking.
The woods were endless, and with Hawk’s injuries, it felt like they weren’t making any progress at all. Even after over an hour of walking, Kavo felt as if they had only moved a metre at best. The scenery certainly hadn’t changed despite their exhaustion and pain from toiling away at the simplest of tasks.
“Hawk,” Kavo said, not even realizing he’d used the nickname instead, “I don’t think we’re getting anywhere.”
“We definitely will not get anyplace if we stop, Kavo. Keep walking a little while longer. I know we are coming up to some mountains soon.”
Kavo shot him a quick glance. “Do you? Is this where…?”
“Yes, it is near to where my village once was. I had hunted in this forest; my wife and daughters had gathered fruit here.”
Kavo couldn’t really sympathize, but he wished that it hadn’t had to have been this way; he could hardly imagine what it must have been like for Hawk to lose not only his whole family but a dozen other families close to him as well. Although he was glad to have Hawk with him now, he regretted that it was a result of that tragedy.
“I’m sorry, Chayton…”
“That past has nothing to do with you, Kavo. I know you were not a part of it intentionally.”
“Yes, but I was still a part of it, and I wish I hadn’t been.”
“I do not find fault with you—”
“Dammit, Hawk, it is my fault. It’s my fault because I never asked why and I never cared why. I could have known, but I didn’t, because I was apathetic and insensitive, and I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been so cold, you would still have your village.”
“Would it make you feel better if I accepted your apology?”
Kavo sighed. “No, probably not.”
“Then why should I? I told you; I do not consider it to be your fault. If I did, perhaps I would think over your apologies. However, there is nothing for you to apologize for, so I do not.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, either.”
“I do not know what else to tell you, Kavo. You are being difficult.”
Kavo sighed yet once more. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… you stress me out, you know that? I thought I was okay with you leaving, and then I wasn’t, and I kept picturing you… well, like you ended up. And now you’re injured, and we can’t both return to the ship, and you can’t fly by yourself, and I’m not leaving you alone again, and I’m freaking out.”
“Calm yourself,” Hawk said gently. “We are alive. I am alive. There is no need for you to worry.”
Kavo rolled his eyes. “I am worried about so much more than us being alive right now, Chayton.”
“What, then? Tell me. Can I help?”
Shaking his head, Kavo replied, “No, it’s me. Whenever you’re involved in something, I can’t help but to worry. It’s really not your fault.”
“I promise you,” Hawk said, “I will be fine. Do not worry, please. It does not suit you well.”
“What does suit me, then?” Kavo asked with a light smile.
“You want to know what I really think suits you?” Kavo nodded. “I love it when you smile at me like that. It reminds me of the sky.”
Kavo looked away, embarrassed, but his smile didn’t fade. “Why?”
“I do not know, but it does. When the sun shines for the first time after a long storm… I feel the same way as I do when you smile.”
A light blush graced Kavo’s cheeks when he looked back to Hawk. “What do you think that means?”
It was Hawk’s turn to look away now. “Do I have to say it out loud?”
Kavo’s heart soared. Did Hawk’s words mean what he hoped they meant? There was only one way to know for sure. “It’d be nice,” he choked out.
It took Hawk another moment to respond, and then he finally said, “I have been considering this for a very long time. Since you fought for us, I was wondering. After the recent events, I am sure of it.” He paused again, as if gathering strength or valour, then continued, “Kavo, I love you.”
Kavo wanted to tackle Hawk to the ground, but he refrained, even if only just. He also wanted to kiss him senseless, but he decided it was best to keep moving. Kissing could wait until they reached whatever Hawk seemed to think they would find in the mountains. He couldn’t find any words, only actions, in his head, so he remained silent.
“A response sounds rather desirable right now,” Hawk said almost hopefully.
“Right,” Kavo said. He hadn’t really thought it out that Hawk might not already know how he felt; he had only thought of himself, as he always did. Why was it again that Hawk loved him? Kavo decided it didn’t matter; it only mattered that he did. “I suppose I had figured you already knew how I feel. I’ve loved you all along, too.”
Hawk closed his eyes. “Walk faster. I want to lie down soon.”
Kavo readjusted his arm around Hawk’s waist and obeyed. Soon Kavo could see the mountains beyond the trees, and he picked the pace up even more.
“There’s a cave,” Hawk said, “Beyond one of the rocks. We can rest there.”
“Okay.” They walked a little farther, until they were closing in on the scraggly rocks. “Which one?”
Hawk looked for a moment then closed his eyes. Kavo knew it was ridiculous, but he swore for a moment that Hawk looked like he was communicating with the earth. Sometimes Hawk simply gave off that aura, as if he were a mythical being. It was both intriguing and a little frightening.
When he opened his eyes not three seconds later, he pointed. “It is behind this one.”
Sure enough, when they reached it, they ducked behind the designated rock and there was an entrance to a small cave. It looked like others had used the cave in times long past; perhaps Hawk’s village or even Hawk’s ancestors had been in the very same cave, although likely under very different circumstances.
Hawk removed himself from Kavo’s hold and gingerly hopped over to what seemed to be a makeshift bed. He winced as he sat cautiously, then cast his eyes back over to where Kavo stood uselessly by the entrance.
“I did not mean to abandon you; my leg was beginning to hurt. Come sit.”
Kavo did, awkwardly. An uncomfortable silence descended on them as they sat, Kavo drumming his fingers across the ground.
“So,” he said, “Where do we go from here?”
“For once in my life, Kavo, I am not sure. I do not know what I can do now. I would like very much to send you on your way, but I know you will not leave. I cannot blame you; if it were me, I would not leave, either. Still, it seems we are at a stalemate for now. There is nothing to do except wait.”
“That… wasn’t what I meant. I mean the two of us— our relationship— what are we going to become?”
“That question is even harder for me to answer. Without your wishes, I do not want to given an answer, lest it offend you, and I do not want to give you a chance to express your desires, lest they offend me. I expect, then, that you would prefer I answer first, so I will. Kavo, I want to be your everything; you already are my everything, whether I am happy about it or not. I admit that some days I hate it, and I am sure that some days you will hate it if I can become the same for you, but I hope you will find me worth the irritation.”
“Chayton…” Kavo kissed him as softly as possible, worshipping the dark, bruised lips with all he knew. When he pulled away, he was delighted to see Hawk struggling to open his eyes. “I disliked you from the start. I still tolerated your presence, except for that once. Somewhere, I think you have always been worth it to me.”
Hawk’s intense eyes shone brightly in the darkness of the cave. “Thank you.”
Kavo smiled and settled down for a nap. “What are you thanking me for, you dolt?”
“I am not sure, but it seemed like I should.”
“Well, don’t. I didn’t do it for you, and I wouldn’t have if I’d had the choice,” he half-joked. He knew it was true, but it was funny now, looking back on it, to think that there had ever been a time where he’d loathed Hawk. Now, it seemed ridiculous.
Hawk gave a slight smirk. “Then I suppose I express my gratitude to your heart for not finding too many faults with me.”
Kavo grinned back. “My heart says it’s no problem. Now lay with me.”
Hawk rolled his eyes as his smirk widened, and he too lay on the hard ground. Kavo tried to help him into a more comfortable position, but Hawk waved him off; he wasn’t going to find a better way to lie with his injuries. Predictably, Kavo continued to fuss. Hawk ignored him and let things take their course, drifting off to sleep easily.
Kavo, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. He could only hover over Hawk and examine every line in his face, every shadow cast by his strong features, every breath’s impact on his chest and shoulders.
He couldn’t wait for Hawk to heal; he wanted Hawk safe again on the airship.
Eventually, his exhaustion won out, and Kavo too slept, still propped up by his arm.
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