#hawknein

Hawkeye and Neinheart shared few similarities. Proper and always poised, Neinheart dominated any room he resided in with unwavering condfidence in his endless words and knowledge. The only place he could be more intimidating is the conference room, at the head of his preferred battleship— the strategy table. Neinheart's mind was always circling with thoughts and ideas, like a sword being sharpened against a whetstone, one step ahead of everybody else. After all, he wouldn't be Neinheart if he didn't always have a plan.

Hawkeye tended to approach life in a more carefree manner, despite his title as commander. Don't get him wrong; Hawkeye was by far the most perceptive and thorough knight with his observant little gray eyes, and Empress forbid you cross him, because he doesn't grant second chances.

Hawkeye loves to bake, and Neinheart doesn't much care for sweets. Neinheart ponders on the deepest meanings within philosophy, and Hawkeye politely declares philosophy as nonsense.

You wouldn't think they had much in common, but still, oil lanterns are inclined to burn until the moon rises and begins to fall while Hawkeye keeps Neinheart company as the latter flits his fountain pen across paperwork. Both soften in each other's presence.

Continuing to work while Hawkeye visited him wasn't a necessary thing, and certainly wasn't intended to diminish Hawkeye's worth, but it was more of an excuse to stay awake with him until the angle of nautical twilight. Hawkeye didn't mind, since it gave him the excuse of offering his companionship.

The long talks started off when Hawkeye noticed a faint, dancing glow from the window of Neinheart's office after all the others had reserved themselves to bed, (except for Eckhart who perched in his tree for hours at night). Hawkeye thought little of it at the time, but decided to brew the green tea he knew Neinheart preferred. A small appreciation gift for Neinheart's hard work.

Neinheart arched a brow as Hawkeye knocked twice, and quietly entered with a small smile, holding up the tea cup and saucer.

"Oh?" Neinheart said, leaning on his elbow that rested against the oak desk.

"I noticed the light and thought you might like something hot to focus with," Hawkeye replied, gently setting the cup and saucer on Neinheart's desk, giving it a little slide towards the strategist. "I've never seen you put anything in your tea, so it's plain. Hope that's alright."

Neinheart nodded, graciously taking the tea. Waves of warmth swirled around his cold nose as he brought the cup to his lips, steam puffing. "I enjoy tea most when nothing is added," he said before sharply sipping.

Hawkeye awkwardly paused, silently standing at the corner of the desk. He swallowed as Neinheart glanced up, undoubtedly wondering why the commander hadn't excused himself yet. Hawkeye couldn't explain why, but he was compelled to remain in the company of Neinheart; to sit and chat for a few minutes at least. But what did they have to talk about?

"Sit down, if you would like," Neinheart mumbled, vaguely motioning to the lounge before his workspace.

Tension released from Hawkeye's shoulders at the offer, and he wondered how long his muscles had been straining.

"I will, thank you."

There hadn't been much talking that time, before Hawkeye retired to bed himself, not that he was able to sleep much. The next night, Hawkeye found himself wandering outside of Neinheart's window again, checking for light.

Hawkeye brought a glass of water this time, after he wondered if Neinheart hydrated himself enough during the day.

They didn't talk much that time either, but night after night, Neinheart seemed to lead and encourage conversation as much as Hawkeye did, and suddenly, every night was an explosion of musings, opinions, questions to get to know each other, and reflecting on how their days went. When Hawkeye brought an offering of tea, water, or a healthy snack, Neinheart typically had something similar waiting for Hawkeye.

"Hawkeye, you should really get to bed. I hate to see you tired in the mornings, you know," Neinheart said, hiding all but a hint of worry in his tone.

Hawkeye shrugged and put the rim of his glass to his lips. "I like to stay up with you," he replied simply, and took a sip of his rum.

Neinheart couldn't hold back the red dusting on his cheeks and the small smile that graced his lips at Hawkeye's words. "Well...I enjoy our conversations similarly."

As Hawkeye rested his glass in his lap, his signature wide, charmingly crooked smile spread across his face— as much as Neinheart disliked to admit it, Hawkeye's smile was one thing he could never tear his eyes away from.

"We'll have to have a conversation at my place sometime," Hawkeye suggested, lolling his head towards Neinheart and raising his glass again. "We could talk as much as we want and fall asleep together."

Neinheart blankly stared with a puzzled expression. Almost immediately after the words left his mouth, Hawkeye's eyes widened and he momentarily stuttered.

"You know what I mean, at least," Hawkeye sheepishly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Don't worry about it. That sounds nice," Neinheart replied reassuringly.

"Does tomorrow work for you? Or do you have more paperwork?"