Thread by @MLioncat

it's sugar baby connor/sugar daddy hank hours i guess so here we go

When Hank started sugaring, it hadn't initially been sexual. It was just something he did because he had the funds as a CEO, he was bored, and he liked having someone cute and pretty to hang off his arm when he

attended important social and political events. Someone he could show off, adorn with things just as pretty, with crystals and precious gemstones, but also someone who could insight envy from his opponents and competitors.

Hank had two sugar babies before he met Connor that

didn't pan out. One was a beautiful young blonde that eventually left him because she was in love with someone, and the other a fiery redhead Hank had to dismiss because she was too much for him to handle.

Hank doesn't keep up with them or anything, but he hears they're both

engaged to each other now. He wonders sometimes if he'll be invited to the wedding.

But then he met Connor. Beautiful, handsome, pretty, dotted with little moles or freckles. He was reminiscent of great works of art like the statue of david, a body of toned and supple marble,

with a smile so mischievous it would put a sprite or nymph to shame.

He was genuine. And smart. Dressed so plainly when he and Hank first met to see if this arrangement would be compatible between them. Hank couldn't /not/ imagine dressing him up, seeing that body cling to him

and whisper sweet things into his ear while he hung off Hank's arm.

He had to have him.

On their first outing, Hank took Connor to an expensive department store, one with jewels that cost more than some people's homes, and clothes crafted from the finest most elegant materials.

Connor stood at Hank's side, hesitant and uncertain. "I don't even know where to start," he says on a whisper, overwhelmed by the decisions.

Hank didn't hesitate as he assuredly places his hand at the small of Connor's back, curls his fingers against the rough cotton fabric.

"Don't have to worry about that, baby," he rumbles into Connor's ear, like it was a secret between them. "I'll take care of everything. You just do what Daddy tells you."

Beneath his hand, Connor shudders, and his eyes go a little hazy as he leans into Hank's touch.

Connor looks up at Hank, something playful in the quirk in his lips, gaze absolutely /sinful/, and Hank feels something deep in his heart clench with a hunger he hasn't felt in years.

"Okay, Daddy," Connor murmurs. "Where first?"

With just that, Hank knows he's a goner.

One of the workers in the store comes to try and ask if they need any assistance, but Hank waves them away with a hand, and guides Connor to the clothes.

He grabs items of clothing for the young man to try on, casual shirts of silk or other soft material, designer clothes,

shoes with heels, shoes with straps, pants of different lengths and cuts.

Hank lets Connor grab anything he wants, as well, but most of what Hank grabs is things he'd like to see Connor in.

They get to formal wear; at this point Hank does grab someone to help with the fitting.

Connor looks trim in different suits, cuts a fine figure. Hank selects one of dark blue, another in black, dark gray. He can't wait to take Connor out dressed in all these, fills him with an excitement he hasn't felt in a long time.

They're about to head to the jewelry section,

but something catches Hank's gaze that gives him pause.

He grabs it off the hook before he can doubt himself, and hands it off to Connor.

He takes it, looks at the material, touches it delicately with one hand. Hank can read the uncertainty in his eyes, & the note of curiosity.

Connor looks up beneath dark eyelashes, brown eyes threatening to consume Hank body and soul. He doesn't say anything, but Hank swallows and chokes out:

"Try it on for me, Connor baby."

His words have the desired results. Connor burns a lovely red, and nods. Obeys Hank and

retreats toward the dressing room.

Hank grabs his sleeve before he can run off, and Connor turns to look at him curiously. Hank levels him with a steady gaze, "Come out and let me see when you have it on."

That hazy look returns to Connor's eyes again, and he nods "Yes, daddy."

Hank waits on a lounge chair for his pet to come out, sits with one leg crossed up on his knee. He thinks how it's a perfect fit for Connor to sit himself across on, right there on his lap.

There's a rustling from the curtain ahead of Hank, and he tucks those thoughts away for

later. Clears his throat and brings both feet back to the ground. "Need any help in there, doll?"

The shifting of the curtain pauses, "Um, no, I've got it."

Hank doesn't press, and he waits shifting his weight from each foot. He's on the brink of asking one of the attendants to

help Connor out if he won't let Hank do it-

But then the curtain slips to the side, and Connor steps out.

Elegant and blue as a midnight sky, with a long and pale limb that shows from a slit where the gorgeous dress brushes against the floor. It travels all the way up

to Connor's mid-thigh. It's held up with thin straps over creamy shoulders, and Hank's mouth waters as his eyes trail and linger over each scattered mole and freckle.

The fabric is soft, and shimmers subtly with hints of what could be starlight, hugs close to Connor's frame,

showing off every angle and dip in his body.

There's just so much.. /Connor/. Hank can already see a string of diamonds collaring at Connor's neck, or an elegant bracelet at one wrist, sparkling rings on delicate fingers. Earrings that sparkle. Stars that Hank plucked from the

sky just to pretty this beautiful treasure he has all for himself.

Hank staggers where he stands, and almost has to sit back down.

But he maintains his composure. Connor looks up at Hank from beneath those dark lashes, shy, like he isn't already the most striking thing in the

entire world.

"Well?" he prompts, voice soft.

Hank's breath huffs out, and his own eyelids flutter as he tries to recover. He takes a couple of steps forward, his eyes hungrily appraising Connor's lithe frame.

"You're beautiful, my sweet," Hank says on a dizzy sigh.

He reaches with a feather-light touch to draw his fingers through Connor's hair, is struck with the impossibly strong urge to kiss each little star exposed on Connor's skin - at his collarbone and the dip of his neck. "What do you think, Connie?"

Connor ducks his head, smiling

to himself, but he doesn't answer.

"Do you like it?" Hank prompts. As much as he loves how Connor looks in this, he would never force his pet to wear something that doesn't make him feel even more beautiful than he is.

"I do," Connor says on a murmur, drawing his hands down

the dress. "I do like it. I feel.." he bites his bottom lip, plumping it up with his pearly teeth. Hank feels his pants tighten, and he shifts in place.

"I feel beautiful in it," Connor says. "Like something precious." Those stark brown eyes look up to catch the blue of Hank's.

"But only because of how you look at me when I'm wearing it."

Hank's heart thuds like a drum behind his sternum, and his mouth turns dry.

"Then it's yours," Hank says, and a smile begins to curl its' way up his lips. "But, swear to me-" he places a commanding, possessive hand

at Connor's waist, "You'll only wear it for me, so I can see it."

His touch draws Connor in close, and the man breathes out soft from the nearness to Hank. He places a delicate and bare hand at Hank's chest, tilts his head up to meet Hank's gaze. His own lips turn up in a smirk.

"I swear it, Hank."

That deserves him a playful but stern pinch to his butt, and Connor yelps, quick to amend his mistake when he catches the glint in Hank's eye. "I swear, Daddy," he says.

A pleased growl rumbles from Hank, and he pulls Connor close enough to feel the tent

forming in his pants. Connor gasps beneath him, and arches even closer, even dares to slide that slim and pale leg up Hank's thigh. Hank leans in close enough to kiss and suck softly at Connor's slim neck, no longer able to hold himself back.

"Very good, baby."

Connor sighs.