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Hank hadn’t made a big deal of his birthday in a long time. He’d loved them as a kid, of course. Partied hard at 18 and 21... even up toward 30. Once he’d gotten married, Jen usually made him a nice breakfast, gave him a gift, and called it good. Hank was grateful, always.
But even that had tapered off, despite Hank still being on good terms with his ex. She usually gave him a card these days, and took Cole shopping to buy Hank a gift. Hank just didn’t care much for his birthday anymore. Reminded him a bit too much how old and gray he was getting.
He’d asked Connor about his birthday. Or, activation day. Whatever. Connor didn’t seem to think too much of it, and preferred the date of his deviation rather than his activation as a birthday. Hank had been planning ever since to take him to a museum and get him a gift, but only
lean into it as much as Connor seemed comfortable with.

After all, Hank would attest, sometimes people just didn’t want to make too much fuss about the whole thing.
Hank woke on September the 6th and the thought of his birthday didn’t even cross his mind. Connor’s side of the bed was empty, as usual. He was an early riser by nature. He only lingered in bed on rare occasions, though it was fairly easy to persuade him to return.
He could smell Connor’s cooking from here, the sizzling of bacon faint but distinct. Hank rolled out of bed, lamenting his slightly aching back, and headed for the bathroom. After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, he headed to the kitchen. Cole was stood on a chair,
less than an arm’s length away from Connor. He was giggling, still in his pajamas, and covered in flour. Connor was at the stove, instructing Cole in a low voice. Hank stood in the entrance to the kitchen, just watching them for a moment.

Connor turned, catching sight of Hank,
and smiled warmly. “Good morning, Hank. Did you sleep well?”

“Sure,” Hank said.

“Dad!” Cole exclaimed, jumping down from his chair. “We made pancakes!”

“Smells great, bug,” Hank said, tousling Cole’s hair.

“We’re almost finished,” Connor said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
“Sure you don’t need help?”

“Positive,” Connor said. “Cole and I have it all under control.”

“Connor, I think that one’s burning.”

Connor’s LED flickered red briefly as he spun and removed the pan from heat.
It wasn’t burning too badly, Hank could tell, so he allowed himself to chuckle softly at Connor’s flustered expression before he left the kitchen. He let Sumo into the back yard instead of sitting like he was told, so by the time he came back, there was a stack of pancakes
accompanied by a plate of bacon and a bowl of scrambled eggs waiting on the table for him. Cole looked delighted to see Hank’s impressed expression. “Fancy breakfast, boys,” Hank commented.

Connor placed a pitcher of orange juice on the table. “Only the best for our birthday
boy,” he said. “Right Cole?”

“Right!”

Hank huffed softly. He’d forgotten it was his birthday. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble,” Hank said.

“We wanted to,” Connor said. “Eat up. We have plans for you, Mr Anderson.”

“Plans, huh?” Hank asked as he took a seat. He and Cole
tucked into their breakfast as Connor slid into a dining chair to watch them with a fond expression.

“Oh yes,” Connor said.

“Big plans!” Cole added around a mouthful of pancakes.

“And I’m guessing they’re a surprise?”

“Yep!” Cole affirmed, punctuating the air with his fork.
After breakfast, Cole scurried upstairs to get dressed. Connor rose from his seat at the table, pressed an unhurried kiss to Hank’s lips, and picked up the empty dishes. “You should shower and dress,” Connor told him. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help you, baby,” Hank said, trying to
follow Connor to the kitchen.

“No, I’ve got it,” Connor said. “Go get ready. You might find your second surprise in the closet.”

Hank lifted a brow, now mildly curious, even though he still felt a certain resolution against the whole birthday fuss. “Another kiss first?”
Connor’s face curled easily into a warm, delighted smile. He sat his dishes down in the sink and returned to Hank, sliding his arms slowly up Hank’s arms as he leaned in close. “I’m always happy to oblige that, Hank.”

Hank smiled, dipping his head until his lips met Connor’s.
He took as much as Connor was willing to give him, keeping his hands firmly at Connor’s waist for several minutes as their tongues met. Eventually, Connor pulled away with a sweet smile and patted Hank’s chest gently. “More later. I promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,”
Hank warned him playfully.

Connor laughed before turning toward the sink. “I’d expect nothing less, Lieutenant.”
Upstairs, Hank didn’t waste much time in the shower - washing himself and his hair before stepping out to dry off. He combed his damp hair back from his face and stepped out to the bedroom to dress.

On top of Hank’s dresser was a primly wrapped box with Connor’s handwriting
on top. He’d abandoned the perfect Cyberlife Sans font in favor of something more uniquely his own. It was thin and wispy and still slightly too perfect, but Hank liked it.

“To Hank,” the card read. “This reminded me of you: vibrant and wonderful. Happy birthday.”

Hank opened
the box carefully, lifting the lid and peeling back tissue paper until he lifted out a pale blue button-down shirt patterned in a bright blue and purple honeycomb pattern. It was in the same family as the rest of Hank’s wardrobe, but a little softer. Classier. Connor’s taste
reflecting in something he knew Hank would like.

Hank dressed quickly and slipped into the shirt last, buttoning it up to the middle of his chest. It was slightly more snug than Hank usually wore his shirts, but the buttons met without resistance or gaping, so he let it be.
Just as Hank was glancing toward the mirror to see the finished effect, Connor slipped into the bedroom and approached Hank quietly, wrapping his arms around Hank from behind with his chin tucked over Hank’s shoulder. “I see you found your first gift,” Connor said.
“It looks lovely on you. Just like I knew it would.”

“You sure it’s not too tight?” Hank asked, rubbing a hand across his stomach.

“Not at all,” Connor said. “You tend to wear your shirts oversized. It’s nice to see you in clothes that fit.”

“If you say so,” Hank said, turning
his head until he could kiss Connor’s temple. “I love it. Thank you, Connor.”

Connor smiled, releasing Hank so he could circle around to face him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Do I get to know where?”

Connor smiled. “When we get there.”

Hank chuckled. “Fine, fine. I’m all yours.”
Connor herded Hank and Cole toward the car, promising Hank again that they had great plans in store for him. Cole sang along with the radio from the backseat, and Hank tried to guess where they were taking him from the route Connor was driving.

Connor finally turned into the
lot at the aquarium, which was not the destination Hank had been expecting. Cole sprang from the car as soon as Connor cut the engine, hurrying Hank and Connor toward the building.

“The aquarium?” Hank asked.

“There’s rain in the forecast for this morning,” Connor replied.
“It’s a good spot for us to all spend family time together but also stay indoors. Plus, I know you like the seahorses.”

Hank smiled, pulling Connor close to his side. “Hey bug, wait up!”

Cole paused near the entrance, already examining everything he could see with wide eyes.
Connor purchased admission for all three of them and they headed inside.

Hank had forgotten how much he liked the aquarium. He hadn’t been in years - not since Cole was very young. Maybe even before he and Jen had split up. Hank loved seeing Cole dart around, wide eyes glued to
the glass and pointing out neat fish he saw. He loved seeing Connor, too, stopping to read every exhibit placard aloud to Hank and Cole. Connor was particularly taken with the dwarf gourami.

“Dad, look at the seahorses!!”

“Oh hey, yeah! Look at that big one.”

“They’re smaller
than I thought they would be,” Cole said. “They’re so cool!”

They spent a few hours in the aquarium, then strolled around the conservatory and nature center attached to the facility. Hank felt so pleasantly relaxed, happy to be spending time with his family. Connor kept his hand
wound around Hank’s, a comfortable constant. Cole bounced around, never quite still and never without a bright smile on his face.

“Connor, I think it’s time for stage three,” Cole said eventually, winking conspiratorially at the android.
"Oh, I believe you are correct," Connor responded, his LED cycling yellow for a moment. He then winked back at Cole. "Commencing stage three."

"You two are a real menace sometimes, you know that?" Hank asked.
Cole wrapped both his arms around Hank's forearm, grinning up at him. "We sure do!"

Hank huffed out a laugh, twisting his hand around in Cole's grip until he could tickle his son's belly. "Oh yeah, smart guy?"

Cole laughed and squirmed away, circling until he could hide on the
opposite side of Connor. "Dad!"

"Lead the way, bug," Hank said, squeezing Connor's hand gently.

Cole took them back to the car, Connor again slipping into the driver's seat to take them to their next destination. It wasn't terribly long before Connor was pulling into the lot at
Riverside Park.

Before Hank could take much else in, there was a deep bark and Hank was accosted by a familiar, furry blur running up and nosing at his hands. "Hey Sumo," Hank said automatically, stooping slightly to give his dog a good scratch behind the ears. He glanced up,
saw Nines and Gavin standing a few feet away. Sumo's leash was held in one of Gavin's hands, and there was a large basket in Nines', which he quickly relinquished to Connor.

"Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen," Connor said. "We appreciate it."
"It was no trouble," Nines said. His gaze slid toward Hank calmly. "Happy birthday, Lieutenant Anderson."

"Thanks Nines," Hank said, still petting Sumo's furry head. "He got you in on this too?"

Nines almost smiled. Almost. "Only for this one small favor."
"You two owe us one now," Gavin said, handing the leash over to Hank. "But, uh, happy birthday, old man."

"Thanks Reed," Hank said dryly, rolling his eyes.

"You could join us, if you like," Connor offered politely. Hank didn't even have time to object before Nines was
shaking his head to refuse.

"We are on our lunch break," Nines said. "We should be getting back."

"Someone's gotta hold down the fort while you two are out here playin' hooky," Gavin added.

"I don't believe previously scheduled time off counts as 'hooky', Detective Reed,
but I'm sure the city of Detroit is grateful for your service," Connor replied cheekily.

Gavin rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Nines, lets bounce. I wanna get tacos on our way back."

"I'm right behind you, Detective." Nines turned toward Connor with a knowing look. "Have a good
evening, Connor. Lieutenant Anderson. Cole."

"Bye Nines!" Cole called.

Connor hefted the basket in his arms as the other detectives left, then turned toward the park. "Let's go find a good spot. You want to find one for us, Cole?"

"Yeah! C'mon Sumo, let's go!"
With a bark, the dog was off, running at Cole's heels through the park. Connor and Hank followed at a much slower pace.

"Breakfast... aquarium... picnic in the park," Hank said. "You sure did pack in the plans today, huh?"

Connor turned his head far enough to smile at Hank.
"Maybe so," Connor said. "I know you don't usually do much for your birthday but... I've never really participated in these kinds of celebrations before. Cole had a lot of ideas, so I helped narrow it down to the ones I thought you would enjoy most. Is it too much?"

Hank shook
his head, letting his hand slide down to catch Connor's hand in his own again. "It's more than I'm used to -- more fuss than an old man like me needs -- but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it."

"You deserve to be fussed over, Hank."

Hank huffed out a breath, bringing
Connor's hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "Just promise me this is the last of the fussing."

Connor shook his head, withdrawing his hand with a playful smirk on his lips. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Hank. The day has only just begun."
“Connor, what else could you possibly—“

“I found the best spot!” Cole cried from a few dozen yards away. He waved his arms over his head and began spinning in place, Sumo running circles around him as he did so. After a moment, he collapsed to the ground, giggling and trying to
push Sumo back as the dog licked his face, tail wagging excitedly. Connor and Hank reached him a few moments later, and the dog let the little boy sit up as Connor sat his basket down and pulled a large sheet out from the top to spread over the grass.

It was a light affair—
ham sandwiches, carrots, and fresh fruit salad. Connor had even packed little juice pouches, which he said he bought for Cole, but he handed one to Hank, too. Sumo was kept content with a fresh rawhide Connor had packed for him, and they lounged in the sun for a while, Cole
plucking out grapes from the fruit salad and tossing them so Hank would catch them in his mouth.

“You wanna try, Connor?” Hank asked, laughing after Cole hit him in the nose for the third time in a row.

“I cannot eat it,” Connor said.

“So don’t swallow it, silly,” Cole said.
“All right,” Connor agreed, sitting up a little straighter, hands on his knees.

Cole grabbed a grape and tossed it in an arc toward Connor, who caught it effortlessly. This, of course, led to Cole getting very adventurous with it, throwing raspberries at Connor from several feet
away, and Connor catching each one - even once with his eyes closed.

Eventually Cole grew bored and took Sumo for a run down the path by the river. Hank laid down with his head on Connor’s lap, Connor’s hands scratching through his hair, and dozed off in the warm sunshine.
He wasn’t sure how long he actually slept - if it could be called sleep when he was fully aware of every twitch of Connor’s fingers against his scalp and the distant chirp of birds and Sumo’s distinct squirrel-chasing bark. Eventually Connor brushed a gentle hand across his chest
to rouse him. “We should head home, darling,” Connor said. “There’s more fuss to be made.”

“‘M nappin’,” Hank protested sleepily. “For a bony little android, you’re pretty fuckin’ comfy.”

“Would you like me to send your comments to Cyberlife?” Connor teased.

Hank blinked his
eyes open, seeing Connor staring down at him with those big, brown eyes that Hank loved so much. Hank smiled. “Absofuckin’lutely not, sweetheart.”

Connor smiled, helping Hank sit up. He stretched, cursing his age as he stretched, trying to ease the tension out of his back.
“Cole!” Connor called, standing up. “We’re leaving soon!”

Cole tossed Connor a thumbs up in acknowledgment and started heading back toward them, Sumo at his side. Connor quickly finished packing up what was left of their picnic and they headed back to their car.
Hank settled back in the passenger seat, still feeling lazy and content from his little nap in the park. Connor drove, navigating around rush hour traffic as best he could. At a certain point, though, Hank noticed Connor was definitely not headed for their house.
“Hon? I thought you said we were going home.”

“We are,” he said, flicking on his blinker. “We’re just making a quick stop first.”

Hank lifted his brow as Central Station came into view. “At work? Con, it’s our goddamn day off.”

“I know,” Connor said. “Captain Fowler requested
we stop by.”

Hank scoffed. “Bastard knows it’s my birthday.”

“I promise we won’t stay long,” Connor said.

Hank glances in the rearview mirror. “We got Sumo with us anyway. It’s as good an excuse as any.”

“Are we gonna see Nines again?” Cole asked, excitement tinging his voice
“Assuming he and Detective Reed are not currently out on a case, we very well may,” Connor said.

Cole pumped his fist in the air excitedly. “Nines is the best!” he declared. “Besides you, Connor,” Cole amended quickly.

“And what’s your old man?” Hank chuckles, catching Cole’s
eye in the mirror. “Chopped liver?”

Cole wrinkles his nose. “No, Dad. You’re the best, too. You an’ Connor are tied for best dad, and Nines is the best uncle.

Hank burst out laughing. “Don’t let your uncle Gavin hear that, bug. Or actually, do. I want to see his face.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Hank watched Connor’s LED flash red for the briefest moment, before cycling into a blinking yellow. It stayed there as he pulled into the parking garage outside the station. As they headed inside, Hank caught Connor’s arm. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Nothing,” Connor said quickly.

Hank tapped his index finger gently against Connor’s LED. “Not nothin’.”

Connor looked away, staring at something near Hank’s shoe. “He— he’s never called me his dad before,” Connor said softly.

“Oh,” Hank said. He hadn’t even thought twice
about it when Cole said it. Connor was part of the family — had been for nearly a year at this point. “Does that bother you?”

Connor shook his head. “No, I— I...”

“What’s the matter, honey?” Hank asked, catching Connor’s chin in a gently cupped hand so he could meet Connor’s
eyes.

“I didn’t know he thought of me that way,” Connor said finally. “I didn’t know he—“

“Of course he does, Con,” Hank said softly. He smiled gently, stroking his thumb against Connor’s cheek. “Sweetheart, you have slotted yourself into our lives in every conceivable way.
You fit so perfectly into our family that I sometimes have a hard time believing you weren’t here the whole time. Of course you’re Cole’s dad. He adores you, and he has since the moment he met you.”

Connor huffed a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I suppose I’m being silly.”
Hank shook his head and wrapped Connor into a hug. “Nah, I get it. I’ve just been thinking of you that way for so long that I didn’t realize you’d never heard him say it.”

“You make it sound like you have,” Connor muttered.

Hank laughed, pulling back and gripping Connor by the
shoulders. “It came up at the parent teacher conference. Apparently Cole never stops talking about his android dad.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“What can I say? The kid thinks you’re the best,” Hank chuckled.

“Guys, what’s wrong?” Cole called from near the entrance to
the station.

“Nothin’, bug, we’re coming!” Hank called back. He squeezed Conor’s shoulders. “You good, hon?”

Connor nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” He leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Hank’s mouth. “You’re so good to me, Hank.”

“Only ‘cuz you’re good for /me/,” Hank said.
They entered the station, stopping briefly at the desk to check Cole in as a visitor, and then headed for the bullpen. Hank barely made it two steps in before there was a chorus of “Happy birthday, Hank!” from the cops littered around the room. Hank lifted his brows, taking in
the hand painted birthday banner above his desk and the cake on Connor’s. (Hank’s desk is too cluttered, or else he presumed it would be on his)

“The hell’s all this?” Hank asked gruffly.

“Just a little appreciation for our favorite lieutenant,” Ben chuckled, approaching to
pat Hank on the shoulder. “Even the captain’s in on it, so there’s nowhere to hide.”

Hank shook his head, quietly accepting the warm wishes from Ben, Chris, and a few other detectives. Chen approached with a stack of paper plates and grinned at him. “I heard it was all the
captain’s idea,” she said.

“That’s a dirty lie, Chen, I thought you were a better cop than that,” Captain Fowler said, stepping down from his office to enter the bullpen. Chen rolled her eyes, helping Officer Person cut the cake. “Happy birthday, Hank.”

“What the fuck, Jeff?”
Jeffrey chuckled. “Just enjoy it, Hank. Show off your kid.”

Hank glanced down to where Cole stood at his side. “Cole, you remember Captain Fowler, right?”

Cole nodded.

“You’re gettin’ big, Cole,” Jeffrey said, kneeling down to look Cole in the eye. “What grade are you in now?”
As Cole spoke with the captain, another detective came up to wish Hank a happy birthday, then Chen pressed a slice of cake into his hands. “Can the kid have some, too?” she asked.

“Sure,” Hank said. “Bug, if you ask politely, Tina here will get you a piece of cake.”

Cole looked
up with bright eyes, following Tina toward Connor’s desk. Connor himself was perched on Nines’ desk, chatting quietly with Chris and a PM700 by the name of Gillian. They both wished Hank well, and moved on after a few moments. Hank raised a brow at Connor. “Captain’s request?”
“Ben and Chris wanted to throw you a surprise party at our house,” Connor said. “I talked them down to this. You can thank me later.”

“I could thank you now,” Hank said, teasing.

“Fraternization rules still apply if it’s your off day,” Gavin called loudly, entering the bullpen
and planting himself at the desk beside Nines’. “Trust me.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “I don’t need one of my detectives reading me the fraternization rules.”

“Then stop flirting with one of your detectives in front of my fuckin’ desk.”

Nines slapped the back of Gavin’s head.
“I highly doubt he needs your commentary,” Nines said crisply. “Is your paperwork finished, yet?”

“No,” Gavin groused, rubbing the back of his head.

Connor pushed himself off of Nines desk and pressed a kiss to Hank’s whiskery jaw. “We wouldn’t want to impede on your
investigations, detective.”

“Yeah he’s plenty good at not doing his paperwork without the distractions,” Hank added. He turned, seeing his son approaching with his cake balanced precariously in one hand. “Hey Cole, come sit down with that, bud.” He pulled the empty chair facing
Nines and Gavin’s desk over and patted the back, beckoning Cole to sit. He eagerly did so. “Nines, Sumo and I found the biggest frog ever at the park today! Wanna see a picture?”

“Of course,” Nines said, turning his attention to Cole. “Where did you find it?”
Hank mingled a little more, begrudging the attention but not entirely opposed to it. If it was this or a whole party at his house, he’d definitely take this. Before long, though, he started getting antsy. Connor caught on quickly and made the excuse for them that they had Sumo
waiting in the car and they needed to go. “We will see you all later,” Connor promised because — well they were coworkers. They’d all still be around next week.

They headed home, and Hank felt a little bit of relief wash over him at the familiar sight. It always felt good to go
home after a long day, even a good day.

“Connor, is it presents time?” Cole asked as he followed Connor up to walk to the front door.

“Is your dad ready to open presents?”

“Dad?” Cole asked, turning pleading eyes up at Hank. “Are you gonna open your presents?”

“We should do
it before Jen comes to pick him up,” Connor added.

“Oh shit, forgot she was coming tonight,” Hank said. “What time?”

“She said she’d come after work,” Connor said. ”I would guess we have about half an hour.”

“Guess I’ll open presents, then, bug.”

“Yes!” Cole exclaimed. As
soon as Connor unlocked the door, Cole was dashing upstairs. “You’re gonna love it, Dad!” he called over his shoulder.

“Would you like a beer, Hank?” Connor asked.

“Sure,” Hank said, settling down on the sofa. Connor retrieved a cold drink from the fridge before returning to
sit near Hank on the sofa. He took a sip before setting it down on the coffee table.

Cole returned quickly with a brightly wrapped box, placing it in Hank’s lap before plopping himself down to sit on the floor in front of Hank. “Open it, Dad!”
Hank shook his head at Cole’s excitement. He tugged open the ends of the wrapping paper, peeling it away until he could open the box. Inside was a small assortment of items - a Detroit Gears baseball cap, a package of Hank’s favorite candy, a keychain with a picture of Sumo,
and finally, a pair of socks patterned with Cole making an absurdly goofy face. Hank laughed aloud at the last item, pulling them out to closer examine them. “Bug, what on earth—“

“He was very specific in what he wanted to get you,” Connor said, smiling softly.

“You said seeing
my monkey face puts a spring in your step,” Cole said, excitedly explaining. “So I put it on socks so it really would!”

Hank laughed harder at that, pulling Cole in for a hug and kissing the top of his head. “I love them, bug,” Hank said. “They’ll always make me smile.”
Cole grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

The doorbell rang, signaling that Jen was here to pick up Cole. He ran to open it, returning momentarily with his mother in tow.

“Hey Jen,” Hank greeted, at the same time Connor stood and said, “Hello Jen.”
“Hey boys.” Hank’s ex-wife smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she cocked a hip. “Happy birthday, Hank. You do anything fun?”

“Con and Cole kept me plenty spoiled,” Hank chuckled.

“Was he grumpy about the attention?” Jen asked, sliding her gaze to Connor as she grinned
knowingly. “He never let me do anything nice for him.”

“He was reluctant at first, but he has not outright objected to anything I’ve proposed today.” Connor replied.

Hank scoffed. “Sweetheart, when have I ever been able to tell you no?”

Jen smiled. “He’s good for you then.”
“What are you and the kid up to tonight?” Hank asked.

“We’re going to my mom’s for dinner,” Jen said. “What about you?”

“Stay in, watch a movie maybe,” Hank said.

Jen laughed suddenly. “It’s cute you think that Connor doesn’t have every minute of the rest of your evening
planned out, Hank. What are you /really/ doing, Con?”

Connor’s smile widened and he offered no response. Jen tipped her head back in silent amusement and hip-checked Connor gently. “Get it, you funky little robot.”

Hank flushed lightly, catching on a little slower than Jen had.
It was a little weird how well Jen liked Connor. Should have been uncomfortable, seeing his ex and his current partner get along like a house on fire. Hank and Jen were on good terms - no fire and brimstone anger behind their divorce, just a mutual decision that they weren’t
at their best when they were together and an agreement that they would put Cole’s well-being first. They’d split almost seven years ago now, and she was still one of Hank’s best friends. That didn’t mean he’d expected her to like Connor. Or for Connor to like her for that matter.
Made life easier that they did, except when they were teaming up to tease Hank mercilessly.

“Christ, Jen.”

“Don’t be such a big prude, Hank,” Jen admonished, still looking amused as hell. “Connor here has a big evening planned for you, and I, for one, think that-“
“I got my stuff, Mom!” Cole announces, darting back into the room with his backpack over his shoulder.

“Fantastic, kiddo!” Jen said, switching gears effortlessly as Hank heaved a sigh of relief. “Say goodnight to your dad and Connor, and you and I will head for Gramma’s house.”
Cole hugged Connor first, since he was standing closer, with arms wrapped tightly around Connor’s middle. Then he moved to Hank with a tight hug around the neck and a kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Dad! I love you!”

“Love you too, bug,” Hank said. “Thanks for the presents
and the great birthday. Connor said you did a great job coming up with all those ideas.”

Cole leaned in close to Hank’s ear. “I’ve got more ideas for Connor’s birthday, too.”

“Perfect,” Hank said, patting Cole on the back as he climbed off the sofa.

“Ready, Mom?”
“Sure am, kiddo. Let’s bounce.” Jen winked at Hank. “Have a good night, boys.”

“Good night, Jen,” Connor said, waving slightly, at the same time Hank said, “You’re a menace, Jennifer Reed.”

“Hank, that’s impolite,” Connor admonished.

“No, he’s right,” Jen laughed. “Spank him
for me, would you?”

“Jen!”

Hank was still red for a good few minutes after the door closed behind them.

Connor made his way toward the sofa and perched on Hank’s knee, sliding his hands up Hank’s chest to settle on his shoulders. “Are you hungry? Or do you want desert first?”
Hank smiled, more relaxed now that he and Connor were alone. He brought his hand up to touch the line of buttons running down the middle of Connor’s chest. “I was kind of hoping I could unwrap something else...” Hank said.

Connor’s lips curled up and Hank found the motion
sinfully seductive. “Hm. Sounds to me like you’re enjoying being spoiled, Hank.”

“Only when it’s by you, baby,” Hank said.

Connor laughed, shifting a little in Hank’s lap, bringing their hips closer together. “Good, because I’m quite enjoying spoiling you.”

Hank tipped his
face up for a kiss, but before his lips reached Connor’s, he was sliding out of Hank’s lap and standing, straightening his shirt. “Hank, I would like you to go to the bedroom and wait for me,” Connor said, and oh boy, Hank’s cock twitched a little in sheer anticipation. “You’ll
find a present waiting for you on your nightstand.”

“Another present?” Hank asked, furrowing his brow.

Connor nodded once. “Open it. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Hank stood, obediently heading for his bedroom to wait for Connor.
As promised, there was a box waiting on Hank’s nightstand that definitely had not been there this morning. He wondered briefly when Connor had had time to put it there, but put it out of his mind in favor of opening the gift.

A tiny part of Hank’s brain told him he didn’t
deserve such niceties. Such lavish and carefully thought out attention. He ignored that, too, reminding himself of the pleased look on Connor’s face when he told Jen that Hank had gone along with all of his whims today and the heat in Connor’s gaze when he said he was enjoying
spoiling Hank. He wanted to let Connor spoil him because Connor made him feel like he /did/ deserve nice things, and he hadn’t felt like that in a long time.

He opened the box.

Inside, between delicate layers of white tissue paper, was a silk robe and a matching pair of panties
in the softest pale blue Hank had ever seen. He swallowed, fingering a delicate hem and feeling the soft fabric catch against his calloused fingertips.

He hesitated, unsure if he was meant to put it on. He knew they were his size. This was a gift from /Connor/ after all, and if
his earlier gift was any indication, he knew exactly what he was doing. He usually did.

Swallowing his self-doubt, Hank decided to try on his new gift. He stripped out of his clothes, fumbling them into the laundry basket in the closet, and slipped into the panties. He felt as
if he might tear them just picking them up, but they felt sturdier once he did. Delicate but well-made. His dick didn’t sit too well in the silk crotch - or at least, not the way Hank thought it probably was supposed to, despite these clearly being cut for the type of junk he was
sporting - but he liked the way the silk felt against his skin. He put the robe on, wrapping himself in the same silky blue fabric.

Hank looked in the mirror, surveying himself. The way the robe pulled around his broad shoulders, parting across the chest to reveal curly, graying
the chest to reveal curly, graying hair, before rejoining across his belly, held in place by the knotted belt.

He didn’t feel like he should be wearing a getup like this. He was too big, too brusque, too old to wear something so clearly intended for some pretty thing.
But it felt soft and smooth and cool against his skin, and Connor had clearly ordered it with Hank’s measurements in mind, so it fit perfectly. Literally made for him.

He loved seeing Connor in pretty things like these. Liked when Connor so obviously enjoyed
seeing himself and being seen in lace and silk and all manner of pretty things. It was nice for both of them.

So he tried to see himself how Connor saw him. How Connor might have imagined him looking when he’d bought this gift for Hank. Tried to imagine the look on Connor’s face
when he would come in and see Hank standing here in nothing but powder blue silk.

Hank’s chest puffed up a little, liking the idea of turning Connor on with such little effort. Even if Hank didn’t care much for his physique, he liked the way Connor touched him. Like he was the
most beautiful thing Connor had ever seen.

He still felt a little awkward. But the robe was nice. Made Hank feel nice.

Which was almost certainly Connor’s intention all along, the sneaky little bastard.

Hank sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Connor to join him.
Connor wasn’t much longer, slipping through the door and closing it behind him with a quiet click. Hank stood, waiting for Connor’s— reaction? direction? something.

“You found your gift.”

“I did.”

“You look perfect,” Connor said, moving closer, his gaze never leaving Hank.
“The blue brings out your eyes so wonderfully.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” Connor hummed, finally stepping close enough to reach out and touch. Hank expected him to run his hand along the soft fabric, but instead Connor buried his fingers in Hank’s chest hair. “I have excellent taste.”
Hank laughed softly, looping his index fingers through the belt loops on Connor’s jeans to tug him closer. “It’s a very nice gift, baby.”

“Do you like it?”

“I feel a little silly. But if you like me in this kinda thing, then I’ll take it.”

Connor tipped his head. “If you are
uncomfortable, you are not required to wear it.”

“No, I-“ Hank sighed. “It’s real nice, honey. I know you mean well.”

“I want you to feel beautiful, my love,” Connor said, nuzzling his nose against the side of Hank’s neck, trailing up until his lips pressed against the shell of
Hank’s ear. “Because you are. So very beautiful, Hank. You are big and kind and strong and funny and loving.” Connor’s hand slid down Hank’s belly over the robe. “But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Hank pressed his forehead against Connor’s temple.
“I like the robe,” he said eventually, voice a bit gruff in his own ears. “‘S nice.”

Connor turned his head just far enough to kiss the underside of Hank’s jaw. “It is. I knew it would be perfect for you. And now we can match.”
“Match?”

Connor smiled slyly, sliding his hand back up toward Hank’s chest, purposefully rubbing across a nipple over the silky fabric of the robe. “I believe you mentioned there was something else you wanted to unwrap?”

Hank growled, surging forward to finally kiss Connor.
Connor made a soft little noise as Hank crushed him close, hands against Connor’s narrow waist. Connor’s hands came up to cup Hank’s jaw, fingers stroking delicately over Hank’s beard as their lips met. When Hank broke for air, Connor drew away, laying himself out on the bed and
staring up at Hank with those irresistible brown doe eyes. Hank crawled over him, kneeling above Connor and running his hands slowly up Connor’s clothed body. Connor shifted enticingly, likely anticipating Hank’s next move. Hank set to work undressing his partner. He undid
Connor’s cardigan before moving to undo the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one at a one until he caught a peek of sheer, blue lace at Connor’s chest. Hank glanced up, seeing Connor watching him smugly. He quickly undid the rest, tugging Connor’s shirttails loose so he
could push the dress shirt out of the way and run a hand across the translucent bodysuit Connor was wearing beneath his clothes - baby blue silk and lace, just as he’d promised.

“Baby,” Hank breathed, stroking a thumb over the spot where Connor’s navel would be. “So beautiful.”
“I wanted you to have pretty presents,” Connor said, fluttering his lashes at Hank. “Things to make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” Hank rumbled, toying with the lace where it met the waistband of Connor’s pants. “You gonna make me feel good, sweetheart?”

Connor smiled. “I am.”
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