Miguel had been down in the dumps. It looked like melancholy had passed over his face like a grim cloud. It hadn't taken much for Hawk to notice, but what he couldn't do was locate the source of his depressed mood. Maybe something to do with Sensei. Maybe Keene. Maybe something else altogether.
He waited for Miguel to bring it up, but between school, practice, and nighttime texts, he never dropped what the deal was.
And that put Hawk in a conundrum. Miguel was a talker. He was a doer. But if Miguel wouldn't talk, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to do something, though. He hated seeing Miguel so mopey.
So that evening Hawk suggested they go for a long jog along the trail around Miguel's neighborhood, to run it off. They ended up in the park near the observatory before taking a rest on one of the benches. There they just talked for a while. Not about whatever it was that was dragging him down, because he still didn't broach it.
Instead, they engaged in safer subjects. About the karate competition Sensei was trying to register Cobra Kai in, Monday's History test, and the holidays approaching next month. All the while, Hawk kept expecting Miguel to drop a hint about his problem. Maybe he was having doubts about the competition. Maybe he flunked the test. Maybe something about this Christmas was going to suck for him.
The conversation petered out and things got quiet between them, Miguel having never specified. And Hawk didn't ask.
It had gotten dark, and the wind was chilly. They sat beside each other, the breeze gusting light against them. When the lull lengthened, Hawk caught the expression on Miguel's face when he turned his head to look at him. The previous sullenness had morphed. He now looked like someone desperate for some affection. Less talk, now. More doing. Maybe that's what Miguel had wanted from him all evening.
Hawk leaned over and Miguel met him for a modest, closed-mouth kiss. When Hawk pulled back, Miguel parted his lips to invite for something more. He snaked his arm around Miguel's shoulders. He heard him sigh, felt him deflate, and Miguel leaned into him when he kissed him again.
Miguel drew out the kiss, a soft groan humming from low in his throat when Hawk cupped his jaw to pull him in closer, when his thumb stroked along his cheek. They'd had more passionate, demanding contact in the past. This was more comforting, tender even.
Hawk didn't know what it was about Miguel that drew this softness out of him. Maybe it was how his hands wrapped around his back before drifting down to rest at his waist. Maybe it was feeling his warm breath by his ear while he nuzzled his neck. Maybe it was because he knew Miguel could be every bit as hard on himself as he was, and he wanted to show him he had no reason to be.