, 204 tweets, 38 min read


Aug. 11 update

*deep inhale*

it's finally friday, loves. let's not waste our time, shall we?

--

It's Friday.

Hank calls off work early, frees up his afternoon so he can go home and get ready for his night with Connor.

He goes home, freshens up.
Puts on his nice clothes. A light gray, cotton button-down, a pair of dark not-totally destroyed jeans and his formal shoes. Something nicer than he would wear to work, but not as formal as something he might wear to court.

Showers, brushes his teeth, washes his face, trims his
beard down a bit, smiles as ruggedly as he can into the mirror with that little half-smile he knows drives Connor absolutely wild.

Looks himself in the mirror and hopes that he's enough for Connor.

Reminds himself that he is, that he /is/ enough for Connor. Otherwise why would
they be together?

He tries to shut down the self-deprecating thoughts, thinks of how kind Connor is, how assuring he is of Hank's body and how upset he gets when Hank idles with these insecure thoughts.

Hank sucks in his gut uncomfortably for a second, trying to imagine his
younger self, how he would have swept Connor off his feet if he had the confidence in himself. But he wasn't really out then, so it probably would have manifested in self-destructive tendencies directed at the nearest possible target. Soo, either Connor or himself.

Was probably
best for him to meet Connor at this age, when he's assured of who he is and far more stable. Well, as stable as a single parent can be of an epileptic 8 year old, but-

"Hank what are you doing?"

The Lieutenant turns on his heels, eyes blinking wide and cheeks flushed with
embarrassment. "Oh! Connor, I-uh-" He hadn't expected the nurse so soon - hadn't even heard him open the door - but every cohesive thought exits his mind as he takes in the sight right in front of him.

Connor leans against the door frame, his smile easy, looking like the most
beautiful thing in the world.

He's dressed far nicer than Hank is, his button-down made of far more expensive silk and colored a deep navy blue. He has slacks on -black- and nice toe-covered shoes.

His hair is styled it's usual way, more put together than it usually is, but he
still has his trademark strand of hair along his brow.

His arms are crossed loosely over his chest, one leg bent behind the other as his body tilts, smile positively seductive as he eyes Hank up and down in the most obvious manner.

He even licks his lips, a flicker of pink.
Hank nearly falls over at the sight of /that/, still stunned at how much a guy that looks like /Connor/ could be thirsting over a guy like /him./

He ignores Connor's question in favor of saying, "I didn't even hear you come in."

Connor smirks, rolls his eyes. "Clearly it's
because you were too busy checking yourself out to notice."

Hank flushes, a tinge embarrassed at being caught, but he shrugs a little off-handedly, and forces a more confident grin. "Just making sure I look good for you tonight."

"You /always/ look good," Connor starts, nearing
Hank to lovingly wrap his arms at Hank's middle, turning the lieutenant so they can see each other standing in front of the full-length mirror.

"Next to you, though?" Hank asks, allowing his hands to rest on Connor's, held right at his navel. "Can't believe you ever gave me a
chance."

Connor hums, tightens his hands around Hank for just a moment, and presses his head to Hank's shoulder. "You always had a chance, Hank." There's a slight pressure of Connor kissing the junction between Hank's neck and his shoulder, then the sensation of him resting his
head contently at the same spot. "Remember what I said about you doubting yourself?"

Hank sighs, tilts his head back to look at Connor, close enough for him to press his lips to his soft brown curls. "I know, love. I'm sorry."

"I love you," Connor murmurs close to his ear. His
hands span at Hank's wide, soft stomach, and lightly press. "/All/ of you."

Hank lets out a shuddering breath, lets his head fall back. "I love you, too."

Connor smiles at Hank's neck, kisses the skin there, then steps back. "You ready to head out, then?"

Hank puts Sumo out
one more time before they leave to go to the bathroom, and then they're in the car and off.

"So who's your friend that's showing his art or whatever?" Hank asks as they walk toward the building where the exhibit is being held. It's pretty fancy (at least by Hank's standards),
and more formal than he's used to.

"Oh, his name is Markus. He doesn't do art as a primary source of income or anything. He actually works as a lawyer, but his passion is in art."

No way.

"Wait," Hank grabs Connor's arms before they can enter the building. "You don't mean
Markus /Manfred/ do you?"

"You know him?" Connor asks, eyes wide.

Hank throws his head back, releasing a full-belly laugh as he smacks his hand to his forehead. "Fucking A, he's my /lawyer/! He helped me get full custody over Cole."

"Oh my /god/ he was my /roommate/!"

"No
shit!"

It's a small world is all Hank can think while he and Connor mutually decide to kick Markus' ass for not telling them that he knows them both. Though it's all for fun, Hank for the most part just wants to rib him for not telling him he was doing an exhibit.

"Damn," Hank
says as they walk past the paintings. Huge towering canvases, bright and blaring colors of reds and blues. Specters of human shapes, faces twisted with grief and despair. Hands held out in hope, a lonely figure bent over in a prison cell.

"Yeah," Connor agrees as they peruse the
halls together. "He's pretty amazing."

"You ever try a hand at art, Hank?" Connor asks conversationally as they walk the halls.

Hank shrugs with an easy and uncaring air. "Some," he admits. "Played guitar a little bit in college. Never had the hands or the patience for drawing
or painting or anything like that." Something far from the past pops through on his train of thought. "I would like to try ceramics again, though."

"Ceramics?" Connor halts just slightly, head cocked to one side as he delicately holds a small half-filled complimentary glass of
red wine. "You mean like pottery?"

"Yeah," Hank says. "Was years ago when I did. Just took a course in college, a couple classes before Cole was born."

A slight interest sparks in Connor's eyes, appraising his partner warmly. "Did you like it?"

"I did," Hank admits, rocking
back on his heels as he stares up at a painting of two hands reaching out for each other. "I didn't have a knack for it or anything, and anything I made was far from actually /good/" he chuckles. "But I liked the wheel and throwing pots or plates or bowls or whatever shit.
Turning a lump of clay into something structured with purpose and even beautiful - with the right amount of attention."

It's only because of the quiet from Connor that Hank realizes he hasn't said anything; he looks over to see his partner gazing at him in the most loving way.
"You should take it up again," Connor says, eyes shining as he steps closer to Hank. "It sounds like you really enjoyed it."

Hank's smile warms at the edges, "I did. Maybe I will. It's just hard, y'know, with Cole."

Connor nods in understanding, but in his nearness, is able to
latch onto Hank's hand. "I think it'd be good for you," he says. "And I'd love to see whatever you might come up with." His smile turns teasing. "And I could use a new set of dishes."

Hank laughs, continuing their walk through the exhibit. "You better lower your standards then,
sweetheart, because they weren't great then, and they probably wouldn't be even close to /good/ now."

Connor looks flustered for one moment, which pleases Hank. He's noticed how much Connor enjoys being called by little pet names. "Whatever, Hank," Connor says with a playful
nudge of his shoulders. "Still I think you should consider it."

Hank's smile flickers up, "I will," he says truthfully, then squeezes Connor's hand while they walk. "What about you then, love?" he teases. "Any artistic streaks I've yet to discover from you?"

Connor's returning
smile is cheeky, "Doesn't the art of nursing count?"

Hank laughs, rumbling and warm.

The rest of the evening goes like that. Snippets of conversation with each other over art pieces, or just easy time learning more about each other in a personal way. More than they ever could
when strict patient-nurse boundaries were in place.

"Oh, Mr. Anderson, and Mr. Arkait!"

Hank recognizes Markus' voice, though he isn't used to it being as warm and friendly as it is. They duo turn to him with a smile. At the artist/lawyer's side is an older man in a wheelchair.
Connor makes a face. "Eugh, Mr. /Manfred/, please. I think the proper term would be Mr. Arkait, /sir/."

Markus laughs, and goes right in to embrace Connor, the two laughing after it surely being a while since they'd seen each other. "I didn't know you would be able to come
tonight!"

"Anything to support my old roomate's art career, right?" Connor asks with a teasing smile, then goes to politely shake man-in-the-wheelchair's hand, who Hank hears to be called 'Carl.'

"And Mr. Anderson, what a surprise to see /you/ here!" Markus shakes Hank's hand.
"Yeah, Con invited me to it," Hank says with a smile, reflecting on how odd it is to see his lawyer beam so widely. "didn't expect that you'd be the friend he was talking about."

Markus laughs warmly. "Oh, I have a history in the past of getting in trouble drawing when I'm at
work, so I try to keep the two as separate as possible."

"Well it worked," Hank replies with a laugh. "I never would have guessed you would be capable of all this." He makes an off-handed gesture. "It truly is amazing, you've got quite the skill."

"Well thank you very much for
that, Mr. Anderson. Though I can't take all the credit. My father is the one who supported me pursuing art in the first place." He gestures to the older man in a wheelchair. "This is my father, Carl Manfred. Dad, this is Hank Anderson - he's one of my clients at the firm."

Hank
extends his hand for Carl to shake, and smiling openly. "Pleasure to meet you," he says.

"You as well, Lieutenant Anderson," Carl says, the man emanating a kind of paternal warmth even Hank can sense. "Pleasure to finally meet you."

Hank raises a brow. "To finally meet me?" he
repeats dumbly, being as he can't recall the man ever being mentioned to him.

Carl grins, "Haven't been able to get Connor to quit talking about you when he's been over."

"Carl!" Connor exclaims, turning beet red, though Hank doesn't think it's from any alcohol.

"Oh really?"
Hank asks with a sly grin. "All good things, I hope." He reaches for Connor, lets one hand slide along the small of his back to settle at his waist.

Carl laughs warmly. "You've certainly caught this one's eye, that's for sure."

Connor hides from his embarrassment by taking
another sip of his wine, his other hand draped low across his stomach.

Something in Carl's eyes harden just slightly, though it's not directed at them as he turns his gaze to Connor. "So things worked out between you two, then?"

Connor blinks, cocks his head at a slight angle.
"You mean.. with?"

"With Amanda," Carl says, and it sounds odd for her name to come quite suddenly from his mouth. Hank starts a little, looks at Connor curiously.

Connor doesn't seem to have any answers either, his response delayed. "Well, yes, but.. how did you know about-"
Something clicks in Carl's eyes, and he turns himself slightly in his chair so he can look at Markus - who looks at his father with raised brows. "Markus - you didn't tell them?"

"Tell them how you called Amanda demanding she let Connor work for the Anderson family or else you
would pull all financial support from Stern Home and Health?" Markus takes a sip of his white wine. "No, I didn't."

Hank staggers a bit where he stands, darts his stare between Connor and Carl, the latter of which looks far too smug.

"You- you did - what?" Hank looks back to
Connor, who looks just as surprised and confused as Hank feels.

"/You're/ why Amanda decided to let me go back and work for Hank?" Connor asks, voice steady and disbelieving. "But how did you even know that I had been pulled from working for him?"

"I guess that is my fault,"
Markus says with a shrug, looking somewhat ashamed.

That doesn't seem to answer Connor's question, and he shakes his head, lost. "But I never told you - the only person I ever told was - .. oh."

Connor cuts off, blinks as whatever he was thinking seems to dawn on him, and Hank
gives him a light squeeze at his waist to bring him back. "What is it, babe?" he asks.

"Simon," Connor says, coming back to himself as he looks to Markus. "The only person I ever told that I got pulled from the Anderson household was Simon."

Markus has the sense to look a tad
sheepish. "Didn't think it was a secret or anything, he was just trying to help when he told me, and then I heard it from Hank, too, when I was helping him with his custody hearing."

"It figures," Connor says with a roll of his eyes, leaning into Hank's arm slinked at his waist.
"If you tell one person in a relationship you might as well have told the other."

Markus looks between the two of them, Hank snickering into his own cup, warm. "You guys aren't mad, are you? We weren't trying to meddle, we just wanted to help."

"Hey, if it weren't for you two
and your meddling, we might not have been able to get back together at all without Connor losing his job." Hank gives Connor a light squeeze at his hip. "We're not mad at all."

"Besides," Carl interjects. "I couldn't let one of the best nurses I've ever had be unhappy if he
couldn't be with the man he loved."

"God, dad, you're such a romantic."

"Well, c'mon, look at how cute they are. I'd say I made the right choice."

Connor bites his bottom lip with a smile, and Hank grins, unable to resist the temptation of placing a soft kiss to Connor's cheek
"We appreciate it," Hank says sincerely. Glances to Markus. "Where is Simon, by the way? I didn't realize you two were dating."

Markus' expression immediately brightens, "He's with the others catching up - I'm sure you'll see him around somewhere."

"Tell him thanks for us,"
Connor says softly. "Don't know where I'd be without you guys."

"Lost and unhappy, obviously."

They break soon after that, congratulating Markus again, thanking and saying farewell to Carl, leaving them to attend to their other guests so Hank and Con can continue to enjoy the
exhibit.

It isn't long after that they go to dinner. A little Italian place Hank had on reservation - small, candlelit round tables for two. A carnation in the center of the cloth-covered table. Gentle music playing in the background of the dimly-lit room.

Connor is worried at
first, frets about going to such a nice place, but Hank silences such fears with a passionate kiss at his lover's lips.

"None of that," he chides, draws a finger down against Connor's bottom lip. Hooded golden-brown eyes gaze at him. "I said I'd treat you, right?" he asks.
Kisses Connor sweetly on the lips. "I know you like Italian food, and I think you'd like this place."

It's very hole-in-the wall. Just a small establishment, but clearly popular with the locals. Strings of green vines cover the walls; Hank isn't sure if they're real or plastic
but it fits the mood either way.

The conversation between the two of them is easy. They talk about the gallery, about Markus and Carl, wonder about how Cole is doing, and to thank Simon if they get the chance.

Connor's feet touch Hank's beneath the table.

Hank orders a side of
oysters with their food, and he feeds them to Connor across the table.

It's perfect.

Beneath the romantic atmosphere, there's an underlying tension neither can refuse. A coy glance from Connor, a sly wink from Hank, a teasing flicker of pink tongue over savory lips.
Hank is just finishing eating a chocolate-coated strawberry, licking the chocolate off his fingers, when he feels Connor's foot rise and brush up along his calf. The Lieutenant glances over in time to see a sultry look from Connor, who leans forward with his hand stretched out
across the table towards Hank. Laces their fingers together. "Thank you for taking me out to dinner tonight, Lieutenant. I had a great time tonight." He looks up from beneath dark lashes, brown eyes turned gold in the light of the candle from the table.

Hank curls his fingers.
Smiles affectionately to the RN. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, honey," he says. Bites his bottom lip, eyes hooded.

Connor's leg draws up along his calf again, slower. A jolt of anticipation sparks through the Lieutenant. The bite of strawberry he swallows goes hard down his
throat as he tries not to suddenly choke from the heat rising through him.

Hank clears his throat, heat beginning to burn low in his stomach as the pads of Connor's fingers tickle along the inside of his palm. "Pick this up at home, then?" he asks, voice on a bit of a squeak.
Connor's smiles tenderly. "That sounds great, Lieutenant." Hank tries to hide the pleased shudder that passes through his body.

He gestures for the waiter, anticipation making him a bit frantic, "We're ready for the check, please!"

Behind, he hears Connor's bemused laughter.

-
-StROLLS IN CLANGING POTS AND PANS- All right lads we are now entering the NSFW scene! this is now an official nsfw content profile so if you're under 18 thank you for your support but it's time for ya to scamper off! i'll place a note when the NSFW ends but yagotta go! thank yu!
🔞

The ride back home is heated, to say the least. Hank tries to focus on his driving, but it's difficult when there's an insatiable boyfriend trying to get his hands all over you.

"Is that what we are?" Connor asks affectionately, hand teasingly going up and down Hank's thigh.
🔞

There's a smirk in the nurse's voice and along his lips, and Hank grins when he reaches out with one hand to tangle it with Connor's. He swallows, nervous, "If that's what you - I guess we haven't discussed if we-"

Connor laughs, light. "I'd be more than happy to be your
boyfriend, Hank. Although the word doesn't almost feel like enough to describe what I feel for you, but-" Connor swallows, gazes at their linked hands, and circles his thumb around Hank's knuckle. "It's a good placeholder for now."

/For now/, Hank thinks he might faint. He
tightens his hand over Connors, brings it up to kiss the joints of his fingers. "I'll take whatever you can give me, honey."

From the affectionate words, Connor turns the most gentle, lovely shade of pink.

--

There's only a single light on in the Anderson home when Hank pulls
forward into the garage, and it's dead quiet except for the shuffling of Sumo lumbering to greet Hank and Connor from the cold.

"We're home!" Connor calls, greeting the great beast with pets along his head and down over his ears. In the answering silence, Connor looks to Hank
for an answer, a single brow raised curiously.

Hank toes off his winter boots in the hall entryway, shucks off his coat to hang in the side closet. "Cole is with the neighbors tonight. They have my cell so they'll call if there's a problem. But they've been sitting for me for
years; they know the drill."

Connor straightens in the hallway, slowly rising from his crouched position along Sumo while he stares at Hank, gauging this new information and looking like a panther about to strike. "So, what you're saying is-?"

"What I'm saying is, my little
water bug-" And Hank grins, nears Connor so he can slide the nurse's coat off his shoulders to hang up with his own. "Is that you and I have the entire house to ourselves for the rest of the night - except for Sumo, of course."

He has his back turned to Connor for just a second
so he can hang up his coat in the closet-

And that's just enough time for Connor to grab the collar of Hank's shirt and pull him into a fierce and passionate kiss.

Hank lets out a non-surprised but pleased laugh, chuckling as he draws up on hand to curl in Connor's hair while
🔞
the other goes to his hip. He waltzes the two of them up against the wall, and Connor whimpers beneath him, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into the entryway of Hank's mouth, the pink muscle brushing at the gap in Hank's front teeth.

Hank groans,
🔞
tangles his hand further into Connor's hair as he eagerly accepts the kiss, and slots his thigh between Connor's legs, presses down.

The nurse groans, then the sound devolves into a whimper as he tilts his head back. His own slim hips jut forward, grinding against the thick
🔞
thigh he's practically sitting on. "H-Hank," he gasps.

The sound of his name is enough to make Hank want to purr like a cat. He pulls Connor forward again to claim his mouth with another soft kiss. "What is it, my love?" he asks, continuing to grind his thigh up against
🔞
Connor's center rhythmically.

The younger man whines beneath him, turns appeasing brown eyes to meet cerulean blue. "Please- honey, please, take me- take me-"

"Take you where, sweet?" Hank rumbles, voice low and deep. He braces himself against the wall, head turned so he can
🔞
touch his lips to the corner at Connor's jaw. Draws a single hand up along Connor's side, the roughness of his palm and pads of his fingers brushing his bare skin beneath the silky soft shirt. "Tell me where," he croons, settling the wandering hand at the curve of his back
🔞
beneath his arms. Kisses lower along Connor's throat. "Tell me where, baby."

Connor lets out a hot breath, words fervent as pale hands clutch at Hank's long and silver hair. "Take me to bed with you, please!"

Hank chuckles, bites his teeth softly at Connor's neck. "All you
🔞
had to do was ask, love," he murrs. With a stern push of his hands, he guides the two of them through the doorway of his bedroom. Let's Connor fall onto it beneath him, and Hank is on him in a moment, his body caging him in while Connor wraps his arms at Hank's neck. "Though I
🔞
do like it when you beg," he growls.

Connor whines, pulls Hank's mouth back to his own so he can fumble at the buttons of Hank's shirt.

Hank chuckles above him, takes one hand to move them more gently and assuredly down his chest as each button opens up. Connor's mouth gapes
🔞
at the sight, hands reverent as they pass over Hank's chest. Feels the wiry gray curls over rough and tattooed skin, presses up to the soft fullness of his belly, then to the top of his chest where Hank's nipples are.

Without realizing it, Hank has stopped, and he doesn't
🔞
even take notice until he hears Connor's soft voice, lilted high and breathy as his hands continue to worship him. "I love all of you-" he murmurs, his words like a song. "So soft," he presses into what Hank self-consciously thinks of as his "man-tits," screwing his eyes shut
🔞
ashamedly as Connor opens his palms, allowing the flesh to fill his hands. "So big-" he sighs, squeezing.

Hank gasps from the sensation, finds himself unable to open his eyes and face Connor as his own self-doubt start to permeate. How can someone as beautiful as Connor want
🔞
someone as old and as washed-up as he is? When the young man writhing and worshiping his body beneath him is an Adonis and he's just some old goat that got lucky.

"How can you not realize how perfect you are, Hank?" Connor says, soft. One of the nurse's hands travel to cup
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the Lieutenant's jaw, angling his face toward him. A thumb brushing at the corner of Hank's eye prompts him to open them, further ashamed when he feels the burning in his eyes that he knows are tears.

But gazing up at him, Connor's eyes are glistening, too.

"Sorry," Hank
🔞
blubbers, grabs the hand at his face. "I didn't mean to - wasn't expecting-" He lets out a sigh. "You're really amazing."

Connor's whole body seems to flourish from the praise, a tremor going through him as he smiles tentatively up at his lover. "You're amazing," he says back
🔞
"desirable and worthy of love. And I want you." Connor's brows arch, appeasing. "And I want you to know and take that to heart."

Hank nods against the hand at his face, eyes still watery, and doesn't break his gaze from Connor's. "I'll try. I will."

The nurse gives a half
🔞
smile, a little grumbly as he settles further beneath Hank. "It's a start," he says, and begins the process of flicking the buttons open of his own shirt.

"Ah-ah," Hank interrupts, halting Connor's progress with a single hand. He loops Connor's arms so they rest at his neck,
🔞
allowing his own hand to go at the buttons. "It's my turn. I owe you, at least, for ruining the mood, right?"

"You didn't ruin anything, love," Connor says, arcing his back up when the buttons are released, the silk spilling at his sides where Hank can freely touch all over
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his pale and milky skin. "Just give me all of you."

Connor's slim hands brush along Hank's shoulders, easing off his own open shirt and exposing more of himself to be touched and adored.

"All of me," Hank says in turn, and it sounds like a vow as his own thick hands linger
🔞
at Connor's hips. "For all of you."

It can only be love that shines in Connor's eyes as he gazes up at Hank, and he nods, fingers tangling in Hank's hair. He pulls the lieutenant down for their lips to brush and tug at each other. "Then I'll give it," he sighs. Lifts his hips
🔞
so Hank can slide the slacks down his hips, and he suddenly pauses at what is revealed.

Lace. Straps of flowery, baby-blue lace at his lover's hips. Crosses low over his thighs, just see-through enough that he can see the tint of skin behind it.

A smile edges its way up
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Hank's lips. "What's this, baby?" he asks, touching the lacey lingerie with a feather-light brush of his fingers.

"Do you like it?" Connor asks a bit self-consciously, propping himself up a little on his elbows. He bites his lip. "I thought you might- I liked the color." He
🔞
tugs a little at the hem before looking up at Hank from beneath dark eyelashes. "I thought they matched your eyes."

Hank releases a trembling breath, and lovingly traces the flowery pattern. "I /love/ it, baby boy," he croons, leaning forward with a smile to kiss Connor, who
🔞
hums in appreciation at the attention. Hank can't stop the grin, nor the disbelieving laugh as he slides one of Connor's hands down his back to the top of his ass. The gesture a nonverbal request for him to return the favor; he readily complies.

"I just think it's funny,"
🔞
Hank says with a laugh in his voice, "How similarly we thought."

Connor's movement stills, though if it's from the feel of what's beneath Hank's pants, or from the lieutenant's words, he'll never know. All Hank knows is that suddenly Connor is laughing, too, and tugging
🔞
impatiently at Hank's pants to fully reveal what's beneath.

Black lace lingerie, patterned by flowers, though they're blocky, less slim than what Connor has on so they go further down Hank's thighs. But-

"We match," Connor says lovingly, tracing one of the larger flowers.
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Hank laughs from above, face blushing pink. "I figured you might - I don't usually get stuff like this."

"I /love it/," Connor gushes. Soft fingertips drift from the flowers at his thighs to over the bold outline of Hank's arousal pressing against the fabric. "I almost don't
🔞
want to take it off," he simpers. "You're so pretty in them."

Hank gasps at the contact, breath escaping through his teeth in a hiss as he thrusts his hips forward from the touch, seeking out more contact. "Honey-" he grinds.

Connor's touch only grows bolder, but they remain
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feather-light and teasing. "Yes, honey bear?" he asks, smile turning devilish while he familiarizes himself with the outline of Hank's cock through the thin fabric.

Hank laughs breathlessly at the name, the sound halfway to sounding like a groan. He thrusts again. "C'mon," he
🔞
urges. "Please-"

Connor rewards Hank by palming at him more intently, prompting a moan from Hank. His head falls forward on the bed, and he thrusts instinctively into Connor's hand, braces his hand along Connor's ribs. "Oh god, Con-" he flexes his hand. Kisses his temple, his
🔞
neck. "You're so good, baby, so good-"

Connor laughs quietly under the praise; he reaches to Hank's behind, sliding the lingerie aside and down the globes of his ass. "I'm ready for these to come off, I think," he decides.

"Mm, yes please," Hank agrees, shifts his hips so
🔞
they're easier to get off, then lifts his legs so he can kick the thin fabric off.

He doesn't see it, but he hears Connor's reaction as his erection is exposed to the air. A gasp, and a reverent touch from the base up to the tip. "Hank - I don't want to sound cliche, but-"
🔞
"I'm big?" he finishes for him, chuckling a bit.

Connor smiles, a shy behind his blush, but his smile warms Hank nonetheless. "I guess that's something you've probably heard before."

"Mm, maybe a little," he says, and guides Connor's hands to the front, urging him to touch.
🔞
Connor's hands enclose carefully around his length, almost tentative, but when Hank exhales with obvious pleasure, Connor's grip changes. Newly confident, he wraps his hand around Hank, pumping slowly from root to tip, the cock straining to Hank's stomach.

"Means more coming
🔞
from you, though," Hank breathes.

Connor's laugh is a soft hum, and he angles his wrist, "Does it now?" he asks, twisting his hand with the movements. Electricity sparks through Hank's nerves, his body singing from Connor's ministrations.

"Everything means more coming from
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you, Con."

Adoration fills Connor's eyes, his brown orbs turned silver from the moonlight through the window of Hank's bedroom. "You're sweet, Hank," he murmurs. "I can't believe you're mine."

"Heh," he chuckles, kisses both of Connor's cheeks. "How do you think /I/ feel?
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Having someone as beautiful as you wanting me?"

Connor laughs, then goes quiet as Hank's hands begin to drift down to where Connor's lingerie sits at his hips. "Let's get these off, then, huh?" he asks with a purr.

His lover arches beneath his touch, and nods, needy. Hank
🔞
hooks his fingers over the lingerie and draws it down. The baby blue color looks magnificent against the creamy expanse of Connor's skin, and Hank can't withhold from the temptation to lean down and kiss he newly exposed skin there. He mouths at the skin, humming, leaving nips
🔞
along Connor's interior thighs. But he doesn't pull the fabric down all the way, instead leaving it rolled up right at where it presses to Connor's arousal, held against the lingerie. He feels Connor's questioning look directed his way, but he doesn't pay it much need before
🔞
Hank has his mouth at the thicker fabric over Connor's cock.

Connor cries out, his hand snapping to Hank's head, keeping him in place as the Lieutenant sucks at the soft panties.

"Ah-oh~! Hank-!" Connor cries, lithe hips straining against Hank's touch.

Hank hums, his
🔞
tongue tracing the outline through the underwear and leaving a dark visible spot. His nostrils flare, taking in the scent of Connor's musk through the underwear, the subtle taste, all while Connor whimpers and writes under him. He hums again, urging another delightful sound
🔞
from his lover.

"Hank - I'm not - I'm not going to-!"

Hank chuckles. "What is that, sweet?" he asks, giving Con a break as he grins.

Connor whines, "I'm not going to last if you - if you keep doing that."

He hums in approval, large hands spanning the width of Connor's
🔞
thighs. Squeezes and rubs them encouragingly. "Well we can't have that, can we?" He moves to pull the panties down the rest of the way, but is suddenly halted as Connor grabs at his hands.

"Wait," he says, breathy.

Hank stills at once, attentive as he reaches a hand to cup
🔞
Connor's cheek. "What is it, hun?" he asks, not wanting to push Connor past his comfort level.

"There's, there's something I need to tell you," Connor stammers. "Before we continue."

Hank frowns, his thumb circling his face. "What, baby? Is everything okay?"

"It is," Connor
🔞
says, placing his hand over Hank's. "I just- I need to confess something."

Hank has no clue where this is going. Simply frowns in concern, and waits.

Connor chews his bottom lip. "Do you remember the night at the movies? When we bumped into each other on accident?"

A chuff
🔞
of breath escapes from Hank's lips, unintended. He lovingly caresses the corner of Connor's eyes, drifts his touch down to his lips. "Of course, hun," he says. Hank can't help the smile from edging up his lips, and he lets one hand go to hold Connor's, twining their pinkies
🔞
as they did that night. Connor's lips go up to a soft smile in turn at the memory, and he flexes his pinkie in Hank's. "I actually think of that as our first date together," the Lieutenant admits. He can't help but bring Connor's hand to his mouth where he can kiss the back of
🔞
his lover's hand. "Wanted so badly to kiss you, then. To hold you. But couldn't then, was too scared to."

Connor hums, the sound almost musical as he curls pleasantly to Hank. "Do you remember I called you after? When you were at home?"

The redirection gives Hank pause as he
🔞
tries to recall, and it comes with an unpleasant twist of annoyance in his gut at what he remembers. "Yeah," he says, beginning to place kisses slowly up Connor's arm up to his shoulder. "That was the first time I fought with Susan about keeping you as Cole's nurse."

Connor
🔞
tilts his head to one side, hums, "I didn't know that," he says distantly.

Hank still wants to return to whatever Connor's original point was. "So what about that night, honey?" he asks, mouth beginning to linger at the spots along Connor's arm, wanting to ease his the mind
🔞
of his boyfriend.

"Well, you actually called me first, that night." Connor says.

Hank doesn't hide his confusion at the statement. Connor leaves a clear gap, like something is supposed to surprise him, and he just feels so slow on the uptake. "You - did I?"

"You butt dialed
🔞
me, in the middle of your argument with Susan."

Yeah Hank feels like that's something he would do. Still doesn't get how this is supposed to relate. "Okay..?" he says. "Happens sometimes. What about it?"

Connor bites his lower lip, loops his arms over Hank's neck and lowers
🔞
his voice sweetly. "I heard you defending me from Susan that night. Heard the fight you guys were getting into."

Hank's smile flickers, keeps a hand held softly at Connor's side. Connor tugs and twines his fingers through the hair at Hank's nape. "So I called you when it went
🔞
on for long enough. I didn't like hearing you angry."

He looks almost embarrassed, but Hank laughs, lets his head fall onto Connor's chest. "You're adorable, Con. Of course you would do that." He places whiskery kisses along Connor's collarbone, then down across his chest.
🔞
"Is that it?" he asks, voice rumbled and amused.

"No," Connor says, love shining in his eyes.

Hank lifts himself up enough so he can look Connor directly. "What is it then, love?" he asks, a touch exasperated, though he keeps his voice light. "What's on your mind?"

"I just-
🔞
Connor looks abashed for a moment, but looks lovely with his face colored pink, and he stammers, "I just wanted to - to let you know that was the day I knew I had fallen in love with you."

Adoration floods Hank in spades, and he can't stop the little "oh" that escapes him.
🔞
His head falls forward into the crook of Connor's neck, spreading sweet kisses all over the throat of his love. "Oh, honey," he purrs while Connor relaxes beneath him. "You're the sweetest," he places a hand over Connor's pectoral. "Is that what you wanted to tell me, Con?"
🔞
Connor nods, whimpers beneath Hank's touch. "Yeah," he says.

Hank hums, bowing and angling his head as he moves to place reverent kisses along Connor's collarbone, then lower to circle his tongue around a dusky nipple. "I fell in love with you in the autumn," he murmurs. "On
🔞
our walks with Sumo and Cole. You were so beautiful. I never had a chance."

"The autumn?" Connor asks, his chest arching up, chasing that sensation of the tongue over his hard and pebbled nipple. His curl up along Hank's scalp to tangle in his hair, urging him greedily for
🔞
more. He laughs breathlessly. "That was so long ago - I had only just started working for you."

Hank hums in assent, switches to the other nipple to give it equal attention. "Shows how little of a chance I had since you first entered our lives." Hank's hands finally find
🔞
their way back to the lingerie at Connor's hips, curled down teasingly half-way.

"We could have been doing this for so much longer," Connor sighs regretfully.

Hank silences the negativity with a searing kiss back to Connor's lips, "Well we better make up for lost time, then.
🔞
The soft blue lingerie finally slips down past Connor's groin, exposing his flushed and hard cock, fully erect and pressing up against his stomach.

"Oh, you're so beautiful, baby," Hank croons. He pulls at the lace, and Connor lifts his hips and legs so they can slide off.
🔞
Hank doesn't waste any time, and wraps his large hand around Connor's length. It disappears in his grip, and as soon as he does, Connor cries out and makes a meager thrust up into Hank's hand. "Hank!" he whimpers as the lieutenant begins to work his wrist.

"What do you want,
🔞
Con?" he asks, voice low, relishing the slick sounds from his hand and cock. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

"Anything," Connor whimpers, sounding on the verge of tears. Hank thumbs the head, smearing the bit of pre-cum from his lover's dick. "Everything - Hank - I dont,-"
🔞
"Leaving me with a lot to work with there," he growls, pleased, but warm. "You tell me if there's something you don't like or aren't sure about, okay?"

Connor nods, eyes fluttering with pleasure. "Okay, Hank."

Hank breathes heavy, "All right-" He slows his hand along Con's
🔞
cock, and at first Connor whimpers at the loss, but Hank doesn't keep him in suspense for long. He slinks his body low over Connor's, breathes hot air to the inside of his thigh. Nips the sensitive skin, relishes the soft cry from his lover. Hank keeps his hands braced at
🔞
Connor's thighs, his limbs lithe branches compared to the thick trunk of Hank's. But he loves the differences between them. Connor's soft and paler skin to Hank's tanned, rough calluses. The timbre of his voice to Connor's lilting melody. Small and limber to strong and steady.
🔞
"I love our differences," Hank finds himself soothing into Connor's skin, lips teasingly close to the erect cock. But he closes the distance, and brushes them up along his length. "You're so pliant beneath me, Con. Want to bend you, kiss you all over."

Connor sighs, and the
🔞
sound devolves into a whimper of need, "Please, Hank," he begs, voice sweet.

"What is it, baby boy?" he rumbles. Kisses the soft flesh of Connor's inside thigh, leaving little bites and hickeys there, but avoiding what he knows Connor really wants. "Want to hear you say it."
🔞
"I want your mouth, Hank, please, baby.. Lieutenant - please."

The use of rank is enough to send a tremor down Hank's body, and he finally turns his mouth to breathe hot air over Connor's cock, eliciting a delightful shudder from his lover. "All right, sugar," he drawls.
🔞
Lets his lips travel up to the head, then lingers teasingly, his mouth just brushing against the slick pre-cum forming at the slit. Connor writhes desperately, making weak thrusts up, and tangles his hand further into Hank's hair.

"Hank-!" he starts to whine.

"Don't hold
🔞
those sounds back from me," he purrs.

Before Connor can respond, Hank takes him into his mouth.

He tries to go slow, he really does, but Connor is the perfect size, and he just wants to take all of him in as much as he can. The weight of his smaller cock settles against his
🔞
tongue, heavy and hot. Hank moans around him, the scent and taste of Connor's musk overwhelming his senses, and he grips Connor's thighs for stability.

Somewhere else, he can hear Connor crying out, whimpering from pleasure. Hank uses the movement and pressure from Con's
🔞
hands in his hair as a guide for his movements.

He sucks in his cheeks, hollowing them out as he slowly bobs his head up and down the entirety of Connor's length. His tongue wraps and presses against the underside of it while Hank moans and hums with pleasure.

"You taste so
good," he says in between breaths when he comes up for air, delighting in Connor's pleasured sounds. "So good for me, Connor, so good baby-"

"Ha-ank~"

"I want you like this all the time, love you filling my mouth with your cock." He sucks more of Connor into him, the brown,
🔞
wiry curls hitting Hank's nose. "You're so perfect, honey," he gasps, licking and sucking while his heavy hands massage Connor's soft thighs. The wet cock hits the back of his throat, brushes along the roof of his mouth. "The perfect size for me to take all of you." Hank locks
🔞
his lips at the head. Connor is whimpering, almost sobbing above him.

Hank slows down enough so he can look at Connor. His whole body is flushed red, and his hips make tiny thrusts up that fill Hank's mouth. Like he's afraid of choking Hank. "You close, baby?" Hank rumbles.
🔞
"Yes," Connor says, voice breathy as he arches up.

Hank draws another teasing lick long and slow up Connor's cock, flushed so pretty and weeping just for him. "Where do you want to come, sweetheart?"

Connor's eyelids flutter, but he opens them enough to fix his loving gaze
🔞
to Hank. "I don't care," he says with a sweet sigh. His fingertips slide down one side of Hank's jaw, settle soft as butterflies at the tip of his chin. "I just want to come with you."

Hank stares at Connor with nothing short of absolute adoration, and tilts his head to kiss
🔞
the very tips of Connor's fingers. "You're a dream, honey," he murmurs.

Connor sighs lovingly, reflecting the adoration Hank feels right back to him. "You're one to talk," he says, unwilling to ever let Hank have the last word when it comes to them praising each other.
🔞
Hank smiles halfway, and straightens himself back up to stand over Connor. Connor lets his legs fall open, allowing Hank to slot easily in the empty space. "Top or bottom?" he asks Connor, heart racing and slightly breathless.

Connor considers it for only a moment, "Bottom,"
🔞
he says, looping his arms at Hank's neck and driving his hips up to feel Hank's. "I want to feel you over me.. on me." He has the gall to look embarrassed by the request, face turning pink as he looks down.

Hank brings Connor back with a light touch of his chin, tilts his jaw
🔞
back up, "Ain't nothing wrong with that, sweetheart."

Connor doesn't reply, instead accepts the kiss Hank offers, deep and reassuring and perfect.

They hold like that for a short while, enjoying the taste and sensation of the other, unable and unwilling to break away. Connor
🔞
would start to break away, only for Hank to swoop back down, stealing kisses, if not at his mouth, then off to one side, or at his cheeks, over his eyes, his forehead, his nose.

"I love you," Hank murmurs over and over. "I love you. I love you. I /love/ you."

Connor's breath
🔞
catches from each bestowed kiss and sweet whispered word between them.

Hank takes the moment to urge Connor's legs to wrap at his waist, and he shuffles himself into the best position. Connor, in between kisses, gets the idea as he lifts his hips higher to lock his feet at
🔞
the ankles.

At the first sensation of their sexes touching, both erupt into sounds of pleasure. Hank groans, shuddering like a great bull while his lithe lover beneath him cries out with the most pretty voice.

"Hank!" Connor pleas, the sound devolving into a low moan.

"Oh,
🔞
baby," Hank drawls, feeling like he's steadily losing control of himself as he stares between them, trying to ingrain the vision of their cocks pressing to each other in his mind forever. "Con, honey, fuck-"

He envelops them both in hand, every nerve singing from the touch.
🔞
Connor jerks beneath him, involuntarily thrusting into Hank's hold. "Fuck!" he shouts, body trembling as he grasps onto Hank's hard shoulders like they're lifelines. "Shit, Hank, fuck-!"

"Quite a mouth on you, huh?" Hank tries to quip, but it comes out breathless from his own
🔞
pleasure. He attempts a slight thrust forward, sliding his length along Connor's, all kept in the heat of his hand. A spike of arousal goes through him, and his cock twitches against his palm. He chuckles, "Better not hear you say anything like that around my son."

Connor
🔞
looks absolutely affronted that Hank would ever imply he would do such a thing, but any attempts at defending his professionalism are shot as Hank thrusts again, rocking his body to his lover's. Connor's mouth falls open, and his head tips back, groaning.

Hank laughs lowly,
🔞
repeating the motion, his hips beginning to fall into a rhythm.

"So good for me, Con, so good," he pants. He slides his palm along their shared arousals into his thrusts, the sound of their bodies hitting each other the most intoxicating thing he's ever heard.

"Yes, Hank,
🔞
please, Hank, yes, please, fuck-"

"What is it baby?" Hank asks, a smile hinting at the edges of his mouth. "What do you need?" He punctuates the question with another well-placed forward rocking motion.

Connor groans.

"Tell me," Hank pleads, hints of desperation beginning
🔞
to hint at the edge of his voice. "Tell me what you want, honey, sweetie, fuck. Connor, baby, please-" He thrusts quicker, but he's starting to lose his rhythm. His mind fogs over, and all he can feel is the pleasure spiking in his body as every nerve sparks with electricity.
🔞
And sweet Connor tries to meet Hank thrust for thrust, his pale hands alternating between holding onto Hank's neck for dear life or gripping the sheets tangled under him. He fixes hot and hazy brown eyes to Hank, amber and blue meeting and holding the other.

A smile flickers
🔞
at Connor's lips, but it immediately falls as his mouth parts after a particularly strong thrust.

Hank is on the verge of begging again, but he's stopped by the pleading sound lilting from Connor.

"I need to come, Hank, please, I want to come."

Hank leans back just enough
🔞
so he can run his hand from Connor's flushed abdomen up to his hot and heaving chest.

Connor watches, gaze heady. The bulk of Hank's fingers slide to his mouth, and Connor puts the pieces together quickly enough as he compliantly parts his lips. His tongue teases along the
🔞
rough pads of Hank's fingers, testing and tasting the ridges of his skin.

"Do it, baby," Hank rumbles deep in his chest. The stuttering motion of his hips pulls another desperate cry from Connor, his cock hot and heavy in Hank's hand. The Lieutenant's breath turns harsh with
🔞
exertion. "Come for me."

There's only a few more quick and aching snaps of Hank's hips against Connor's, and then the man's back snaps like a bowstring. His eyes go wide, mouth gaping and eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head.

"Eyes on me, Con," Hank urges, "Eyes-
🔞
"F-ffuuck!"

He tips right over the edge with Connor, the pleasure enough to whiten his vision for a split second as his hand slows in time with his hips. "Oh Con - Connor, fuck, honey-"

His muscles give out, and he about collapses on Connor, pressed chest to chest. He can't
🔞
stop the slight hitch of his hips through his orgasm, the slick between him and Connor sticky and warm at his stomach.

"God, Hank-" Connor breathes as Hank's body settles over him. Connor runs a hand up and down Hank's bare back, and Hank trembles at the touch.

Hank groans,
🔞
mind hazy as he fixes his hands low at Connor's waist, then up to tangle in his hair. Words escape him, and he presses his lips to the junction of Connor's neck and shoulder in hopes that it will convey what he means.

"Was it good, honey?" Connor asks, voice quiet and pleased
🔞
"Was /so/ good, Con," Hank manages, the afterglow of their joining easing him. His hand brushes along Connor's chest, feeling the thin hairs, soft and fine. "The best, baby, fuck you're so sexy, so beautiful." Hank kisses him again, holds Connor possessively. "And all mine."
🔞
Connor hums, pleased by that. "All /mine/," he returns, and lovingly draws his fingers up and down along Hank's back, ticklish.

"Everything you hoped?" Hank asks.

"And more, love," Connor murmurs. Kisses the top of Hank's brow. He wiggles further down to feel more of Hank's
🔞
weight on him. Hank adjusts his weight, relishing the sensation of his soft stomach pressing Connor's taut one into the bed.

"I love you," Hank says, the words like a song between them.

Connor kisses him again, the touch of his lips soft and sweet. "I love you, Hank."
A shared rush of warmth passes between them. And without needing hardly another word, the two slip into a content and easy sleep.

--
It's the sunlight filtering in through the windows the next morning that wakes Hank from his sleep. And for the first time in years, the sensation of a warm body curled up with him.

He's confused for a moment before his brain catches up, when it recognizes the familiar scent of
peppermint bodywash and an underlying hint of that sharp clean small all nurses seem to have.

Hank chuckles softly, blinking open sleep-heavy eyes to orient himself.

Sometime during the night, Hank had rolled onto his side against Connor, who lay flat on his back, but they
still lay pressed close together. Hank had his nose nestled in the soft brown of Connor's curls with one arm draped lazily over the other man's chest.

His bare shoulder exposed to the open air, Hank shivered, and reached down to pull a thick blanket bundled near the foot of the
bed over them. But he lets his arm return to where it first was, and relishes the sound and the feel of his lover breathing with the rise and fall of his chest.

And from there, Hank just stares at Connor, studies the slope of his nose, the tousled curls of his hair, the slight
part of his lips where Hank can see a slip of pink tongue.

Hank feels what can only be love swell in his chest as he twines his fingers at the center of Connor's chest is, and he swears he can feel the thump-thump of his lover's heart beneath him.

And that's when it falls on
Hank, a thought that's easy and seems totally natural.

He doesn't know how, and he doesn't know when...

But he knows he's going to propose to Connor one day.

Wants to slip a ring over a slim finger, an open statement to the world that they belong to each other. Wants to go to
bed with him every night and wake up with him every morning. Wants to be with him for the ups and downs, wants to share every moment he has left with this man he's fallen deeply in love with.

And the thought is so powerful to Hank that tears swell in his eyes. He blinks them
away, and they roll down his face into his whiskers.

Connor chooses then to wake up, and as he rolls over with a content smile to see tears in his own love's eyes, concern falls at once over his expression.

"What's wrong, love?" he asks in that sweet and sleepy voice. One
finger slips along Hank's cheekbone to catch one of the saline crystals, halting it's progression down his face.

"Nothing's wrong, dear," Hank says with a teary smile. Circles a hand low over Connor's hips. "Just thinking about how much I love you."

Connor's brows arch, a sweet
"Oohhh, honey~" slipping from him as he cups Hank's face, and draws him forward for a soft and claiming kiss. When they part, they don't go far, and instead rest their foreheads together. Almost like they can't bear to be more than an inch apart.

"I love you, Hank," Connor says,
voice soft and exposed. "More than I ever- more than I ever thought I could love anyone."

Hank squeezes him closer. "Same here, Con. I can't imagine how I was even living before I found you."

Connor hums, wiggling against Hank like he's trying to touch as much of Hank as
possible. "So I guess that means you're gonna have to keep me."

Hank chuckles low in his throat, buries his nose into Connor's hair as he tightens his grip. "Honey, you have no idea. I'm not ever letting go."

His lover arches prettily beneath him, hums in satisfaction. "I don't
think I have a problem with that," and draws a leg up along Hank's.

He sighs into Connor's neck and places some kisses along his throat. Something peaceful settles between them, and they relax back into the bed, both simply relishing the presence of the other. Hank doesn't think
he's ever been so content.

--

Months later, when Hank is picking up Cole from his first day of the fourth grade, he embraces him, places a whiskery kiss to his son's cheek, then turns to Connor.

"How did it go?" he asks, exchanging a kiss with the pretty nurse.

"Went great!"
Connor says with a smile. "His teacher seems pretty nice, I think it'll be good. Cole thinks we should celebrate the first day going well with ice cream."

"Oh does he, now?" Hank asks with a smile, turning to look at his son, who beams from the backseat of the car knowingly.
Hank feels Connor shrug against him. "I dont think it's a bad idea. And it's so hot out, anyway.." Con eyes him mischievously, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"No need for that," Hank teases with a laugh. "Yeah. I think we can arrange for some ice cream."

Con gives Cole
a thumbs-up, and the boy cheers.

"You're way too soft on him," Hank chides playfully.

Connor beams. "You're one to talk," nudges him again, and curls his fingers along Hank's palm with a smile going up his lips.

Getting the idea, Hank latches his hand to Connor's, squeezing it
while Cole urges them to get in the car so they can go.

When they get back into the car, Hank rests his hand between them, leaving it open for Connor to grab.

He does, of course, but Hank pauses before he starts the car to focus on the hand wrapped in his own.

Takes a second
just to focus on the band that glitters silver and blue in the sun. Feels the metallic warmth against his finger, admires the color and the way it sparkles in the light, and how perfect it fits on Connor's finger.

He can't resist the temptation to bring the hand to his lips so
he can press an adoring and possessive kiss to the ringed finger.

His fiancee watches him with nothing short of the most pure adoration, face flushed with love.

"DAA-AAAADDD, that's GROSS!"

Both men laugh, and look back at the insulted boy in the back seat, face twisted in
childish disgust.

"Hey, I'm allowed to kiss my fiancee," Hank says with a laugh, but he doesn't let go of Connor's hand as he starts the car.

"As long as it's not in front of me -EUUGHACKk-!"

Connor looks over his shoulder with a bemused smile to Cole. "You know we're gonna
kiss at the wedding, right?"

"Lots of times," Hank adds with a grin. When he glances lovingly towards Connor, there's a light pink blush stealing across his face.

Cole's response is pretty immediate, "I'm gonna close my eyes at those parts."

That elicits a laugh from both
adults, and Connor is the one to acquiesce, "How about we just warn you when we're about to?"

Hank sees Cole wrinkle his nose a little at that, but he accepts it well enough. "That'd be okay, I guess."

The car is conveniently at a red stop light behind a line of other cars
trying to leave the school grounds.

"Cole," Hank says. He watches in the rearview as his son looks at him, then says with a grin, "Here's your warning."

He doesn't get a chance to see Cole's reaction as he moves toward Connor, who's more than willing to accept the kiss, placed
quickly but passionately at his mouth.

Cole erupts into more groans, and Hank sees the boy's eyes are closed tight. "You guys are GROOSSS!"

"Get used to it, kiddo," Hank says with a grin, turning his attention back to the road as the light turns green. "We're probably gonna
kiss even more when we're married."

Cole rolls his eyes and slouches in his seat, "Ugh. I'm gonna run away to Canada."

Connor and Hank snicker at that, but both have amused smiles twitching at their lips.

"Love you," Connor says to Hank, unable to resist.

"Love you too, hun,"
Hank returns sincerely, and smiles when he catches Connor's eyes.

Cole groans in the back.

Hank gives Con's hand another playful squeeze, and runs his thumb over the silver metal band at his fiancee's finger.

Hank thinks he could stay like this just forever. His love at his
side and his son with them. The most beautiful family he never knew he could have.

Everything is just perfect.

Connor's hair glints amber in the sun, freckles like stars over his cheeks. A loving glance and a knowing tilt of soft pink lips.

Hank smiles.

Perfect.

-fin-
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