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“Alright, I’m done with your bullshit, Hank. Get out of my office and don’t come back before you’ve seen someone about your back.” 

Jeffrey Fowler is facing Hank from his side of the desk and pointing a threatening finger in the direction of his office door. 

“Jeff, I’m fine, I don-”

“I don’t wanna hear it. For Christ’s sake, Hank, even Reed is complaining about you when it’s usually the other way around.” 

Hank’s jaw tightens against the unkind words that want to come out to express his thoughts on Gavin Reed, but his boss’ unimpressed stare is what really helps to keep them at bay. Hank deflates and nods in acceptance. 

“Fine,” he grumbles unhappily and stands from the chair he’d been sitting in. 

He bites back the pained grunt when his back twinges at the angle he rises, but rolls his eyes at Jeffrey’s expression of “I told you so.”

About a week ago, Hank had wanted to lift a heavy, wooden beam on his own and had nearly thrown out his back. He’d felt the strain in his muscles, but the pain hadn’t come until Hank had been back home and his body started to cool down. He’d been pretending to be fine, except that he’d been flying off the mouth even quicker than usual, and giving everyone a piece of his mind — deserved or not — whenever the pain would act up. 

If Jeffrey has called him in, however, Hank knows that it’s worse than he thinks. They’ve known each other and been friends for decades, meaning that Jeffrey knows how moody Hank can get. It turns out that this time, Hank has managed to annoy Jeffrey as well with his dark muttering and bouts of anger. That’s the main reason why Hank relents.

Back home, Hank’s big Saint Bernard, Sumo, decides to tackle Hank to the floor in excitement, happy to see his human again after a long day without him. As Hank lies there, winded and his back aching something fierce, Sumo resting his head over Hank’s chest while his tail thumps repeatedly on the floor, Hank reaches for his phone in his chest pocket. He spends a while on the floor, looking up the best massage places around town. He only gets up when he’s done with calling this place called Cyberfingers, managing to get an appointment for the following afternoon.



It’s late afternoon, and Connor is sitting at his desk, adding information to his last patient’s file, when Markus stops at his door. 

“Knock, knock.” He raps his knuckles against the door frame. “Weren’t you supposed to be leaving with Josh?”

“No, I still have a patient,” Connor tells Markus, tapping away on the keyboard before looking at him. “They called last minute yesterday and I told Simon that he could just give them to me. What about you?”

“Mh, got one last one, too.”

Markus is about to say something when the buzzer on Connor's phone rings. Connor presses the button on it.

“Hey, Simon.” 

“Hey, your last appointment is already here. I asked him to wait, but if you wanted to finish a bit earlier?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll be there in a minute.” Connor clicks out of his previous client’s profile and opens a new one before standing and joining Markus at the door. 

Together, they head to the lobby, where Simon is sitting behind the reception desk. 

“Hank Anderson,” Simon tells Connor, while Markus winks at Simon as he keeps walking to the waiting room to get his last patient as well. 

Connor taps lightly on the glass table of the reception with a quiet thanks and sends Simon a smile. 

“Mr. Anderson?” Connor calls once he’s at the door to the waiting room, where only two people are sitting in.

Connor's breath catches when the man called Hank Anderson stands from his chair and turns towards Connor. He had not expected his last-minute patient to be a man that ticks so many boxes on his ‘ physical-preferences-in-partners ' list. 

The man is tall — taller than Connor, who isn’t short himself — and has broad shoulders and a large chest. Actually, he’s big all around. Hank Anderson has a body that could fully envelop Connor in a hug or pin him down on a bed with no effort at all. Clear blue eyes look at him from under a thick mane of silver hair that is long enough to be pulled into a loose ponytail and accentuates the middle-aged man’s bearded jaw.

Connor tries to swallow inconspicuously against his suddenly dry throat. 

“Hello, my name is Connor, I’ll be your massage therapist today. Please follow me.”

Connor wills himself not to blush when the man lets his eyes travel over Connor’s form. He's probably only assessing Connor. He really shouldn’t read too much into it. 

“Call me Hank,” the man says with the faintest of smiles, wincing not a second later when he takes a step into the direction that Connor is indicating him to follow. 

Connor goes into ‘work mode’ immediately, gaze sharpening on Hank’s back posture. 

“You pulled a muscle in your lower back, correct?” he asks, opening the door to his office. 

Connor’s office is a square room holding, to the front right side, a desk where he keeps his patient’s files and his laptop, while a changing room stands in the back. On the left side are a massage table that has a small side table with some oils and lotions on it, cabinets that are filled with towels, and other massage paraphernalia, and a large sink. 

Hank grunts in confirmation at Connor’s question, as well as in discomfort.

“Had the clever idea to lift something real heavy. ‘Cept I’m not thirty anymore and the fucking thing weighed a ton. My back and shoulders didn’t care for the treatment they got.”

Connor nods in understanding, easily imagining Hank lifting heavy materials with his thick arms over his wide, muscular shoulders. Connor has to forcibly shake himself out of visualizing Hank holding him down with those same arms. Clearing his throat, he waves for Hank to take a seat in front of his desk and sits down to face the older man. They go over the places that Hank feels pain in, Connor typing everything into Hank’s patient file, before he asks Hank to undress, giving him a large towel and bathrobe. 

Connor raises an eyebrow at Hank’s grimace when the man takes the offered clothes from him. 

“Gotta take it all off?” Hank asks, voice carefully neutral.

Connor frowns this time.

“Er… yes. I’m aware that the pain is mainly in your back and shoulders, but considering everything you’ve told me about and also from what I saw in your body posture, I thoroughly recommend a full-body massage. You’ll feel much better afterwards, I can guarantee you.”

Hank purses his lips as if not entirely satisfied with this answer, but nods his understanding. 

When Hank returns from the changing room, Connor nearly groans out loud when he sees that the bathrobe barely closes over Hank’s large chest, wiry, silver hair peeking from between the fabric. Hank keeps tugging at the sides to get them closer together, but it doesn’t quite work. Connor’s fingers tingle with the desire to run through that chest hair. 

He notices that Hank doesn’t meet his eyes the same way he’d so easily done until now, though. 

“Hank, if you are uncomfortable with me, I can request someone else to-” Connor tries at Hank’s odd behavior, but Hank stops him.

“No. No, I’m good. I just… don’t like… whatever… Let’s just do this, yeah?” Hank seems to steal himself and walks to the massage table.

Connor follows him and starts explaining what is going to happen. 

“Just remove the top of the bathrobe, lie down on your front, and I’ll cover your hips with a towel before removing the robe from underneath it.” 

Not certain as to why Hank seems so uncomfortable, Connor smiles at him gently and quietly waits until Hank has lied down. Connor does as he’d explained and covers Hank’s middle before taking the bathrobe away and hanging it on a nearby hook for when they’re done. 

“Alright, Hank,” Connor starts with a soothing tone, lowering his voice as well as dimming the light slightly. “I’m going to start with your legs and work my way up. I will keep a hand on you so that you’ll know where I am at any time and won’t startle you. You can close your eyes and just relax.” 

Hank shifts around a bit, fitting his face more comfortably through the hole at the top of the table, and hums his understanding. 

“I’m putting a hand on your right calf,” Connor announces a moment before doing so and after having poured some warm oil into his palms. 

Connor works slowly and meticulously, feeling over each muscle and working on them. Hank is quiet while Connor works on both feet and calves, but grunts when Connor reaches his thighs.

“Painful?” Connor wants to know, although the sound didn’t seem to be due to pain. “You have a bit of pressure here.”

“No, ‘s good. Feels nice, jus’ wasn’t expectin’ it.” Hank’s voice is a low drawl, making Connor smile at Hank’s already more relaxed state. 

“Just tell me if you feel any discomfort.”

Hank hums but doesn’t speak up anymore. 

Connor manages to keep his gaze and thoughts professional for a good while, until he reaches the top of Hank’s muscular thighs and the hem of the towel. Hank grunts and his hips shift when Connor presses his thumbs into the thick muscle. The grunt was low and pleased, making Connor lick his dry lips and close his eyes a second to clear his more unprofessional thoughts away. Like the ones where he wants to lift the towel and… 

“I’ll be working on your back now and focus specifically on the areas we talked about,” Connor puts more oil on his hands to take his eyes away from Hank’s ass and focus them on his back.

At the first press into his lower back, Hank groans long and deep, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure. Connor chuckles at the relief washing over Hank’s body as he loosens up some more. Connor works his way over each painful part, receiving a wince that soon transforms into a sigh of contentment each time.

“Fuck, I never thought this would feel so good. Your hands are fuckin’ magical,” Hank groans and sighs, relaxing with every sore muscle that is being worked to perfection as Connor’s hands move up methodically until they reach Hank’s shoulders. 

Connor, who has valiantly tried not to ogle Hank’s body again, chuckles, delighted by the praise and glad to get some of Hank’s earlier good mood back.

“Thank you… You never had a massage before?” Connor asks, curious. 

“Not this kind,” Hank replies. Connor understands what he’s implying from Hank’s tone and low chuckle. 

Connor feels his face heating from imagining giving Hank a sensual massage. Since he’s done with Hank’s back, Connor clears his throat to stir his mind elsewhere and asks Hank to lie on his back. He needs to work on Hank’s shoulders at another angle, as well as the left pectoral Hank had mentioned during their conversation. Hank seems to freeze for several seconds before moving, but since he doesn’t say anything, Connor decides not to take more notice of it. 

Connor stands to one side of the table and lifts the towel from Hank’s middle, holding it in such a way that it hides Hank’s groin from view. He lays it back over Hank’s hips as soon as Hank has settled on his back and closed his eyes. Connor pointedly doesn’t glance in the direction of the towel. Instead, he steps behind Hank’s head and leans slightly over him. 

He starts working on Hank’s shoulders once more, eliciting a pleased grunt from the man. Connor works his way over the tendons on the thick neck, down to the collarbone and finally presses his thumbs into the pectoral muscles. Hank grimaces when Connor encounters the strained muscle, but sighs as soon as Connor applies just the right amount of pressure. Connor can’t help enjoying the feeling of Hank’s chest hair against his fingers, and loses himself a bit in the sensation. 

As he works, his eyes finally do stray towards Hank’s covered crotch. His face heats up at the large bulge he sees there. And he can tell that it isn't even fully hard yet. He bites his lower lip. He can’t take his eyes away for a long time, and suddenly realizes that he has barely been massaging at all.

Connor looks down into Hank’s upside-down face to apologize for spacing out, but his eyes widen in shock when he sees that Hank is already staring up at him. If Connor’s face had been red before, now he feels like it’s positively burning from embarrassment at being caught in his ogling. 

“Sorry about that,” Hank croaks with an uncomfortable twist to his mouth.

“It’s — It’s fine. It can happen.” Connor waves Hank’s words off, surprised by Hank’s apology when Connor had been the one staring. 

“What? That some ugly, old, creep got hard from being massaged by a cute guy?” Hank snorts derisively, clearly interpreting Connor’s blush and embarrassment to be from unwanted attention. 

“Please, you’re neither old, nor a creep. And even less ugly,” Connor half whispers, though he puts enough force into the sentence to show that he means it. 

He doesn’t look at Hank, however, instead, he moves to one side of the table to take one of Hank’s large hands between his and starts massaging it. Connor disapproves of how Hank talks about himself, but is pleased that Hank thinks that he’s cute. 

There’s a small, incredulous chuckle from Hank after a few seconds of silence.

That’s what you take from what I just said?”

Connor shrugs and bites his lip. 

“I don’t mind that you are…” he trails off with a shrug, still not meeting Hank’s eyes. 

There’s silence again while Connor keeps working on Hank’s hand, delighting in their size and the power lying in them. 

“Are you… Do you… Shit, just… Stop me if I’m reading this wrong,” Hank suddenly utters.

Connor sees Hank’s other hand come up to take hold of Connor’s nape and tug him down slowly, giving the younger man an out if he wants it.

Connor’s brain takes a second to understand what is happening before he looks into Hank’s face at last, and sees want and hesitation in those light, blue eyes. His hold on Hank’s hand tightens as he leans down the rest of the way to meet Hank in a kiss. 

Hank grunts at Connor’s eagerness, the latter moaning excitedly into Hank’s mouth as he holds himself up with his free hand on Hank’s chest. Hank extricates his hand from Connor’s hold to wrap it around the other’s waist and pull him closer.

“Fuck, you really want this, huh? Got yourself all excited here.”

That’s when Connor realizes that he’s half hard and rutting into Hank’s side. 

“You’re hot.” His voice is unrepentant against Hank’s lips.

“I am?” Hank chuckles, but Connor hears the surprise in Hank’s words all the same. 

“Mh.” Connor licks into Hank’s mouth and hums again at the fingers trailing over his spine. 

Meanwhile, Connor slides a hand down towards Hank’s still towel covered crotch, and reaches below to stroke his fingers over Hank’s still hardening length. Hank’s hips jerk at the contact, and he grunts when Connor wraps his fingers around him. Connor exhales at the size and pants against Hank’s lips. He slowly makes his way down Hank’s body with his mouth, marveling at the thick muscles and hair, but Hank stops him with a gentle hand fisting in his hair and making Connor stare up at him.

“As much as I want those pretty lips around my dick…” Hank strokes a thumb over Connor’s bottom lip. “You should know that once I start, I don’t intend to stop,” Hank warns, his voice warm, however, but intense. 

Connor smiles impishly and nibbles the pad of Hank’s thumb. 

“And this is supposed to stop me from continuing?”

Hank smirks and presses his thumb lightly over Connor’s tongue that has come out to lick at him. 

“Depends.” Hank sits up and gets Connor to stand between his spread legs. “Do you mind if others hear you? Because I like my partners to be vocal, and I always make sure that they are.”

An excited shiver runs down Connor’s back at Hank’s words. He’s about to goad Hank into continuing, but his eyes momentarily leave Hank’s to look at the left wall when he remembers that Markus is in the room right next to his. 

“Fuck.” Connor hangs his head in frustration.

Hank chuckles and squeezes Connor’s hips. 

The towel over Hank’s middle doesn’t hide much anymore, and Connor whimpers at the sight, his cock jerking in his slacks. 

“Shit… how am I supposed to calm down when you’re…” he waves towards Hank’s crotch. 

Hank makes a thoughtful sound before gathering Connor in his arms and tilting his head back with a hand under Connor’s chin. 

“Let’s try this.” 

And with that, he takes Connor’s mouth in a deep kiss and cups Connor through the thin material of his work clothes. Connor makes a gasping sound and bucks into Hank’s hand at the unexpected touch. 

“Sh, sh, Sweetheart, gotta be quiet at least for that,” Hank rumbles into Connor’s mouth before sliding his tongue against Connor’s again. 

Connor reaches for Hank’s shoulders and grips them hard when Hank tugs Connor’s pants down enough to wrap a hand around his length. Hank’s towel is gone a moment later, and Connor moans into the kiss when Hank takes them both into one of his big hands. 

“Here.” Hank nibbles along Connor’s bottom lip and guides one of Connor’s hands between their bodies. Understanding what Hank wants, Connor slides his still slick fingers over their cocks, making for a smoother glide when Hank takes hold of them again and squeezes the heads. 

“Oh fuck,” Connor breathes into Hank’s neck, trying to cut off his moans by pressing his mouth into Hank’s skin. 

“So pretty,” Hank croons into Connor’s ear, his other hand drifting around to Connor’s ass, leaving Connor momentarily surprised by the slickness of it. 

Hank seems to have found the oil because Connor spots the upended bottle on the small side table. Hank’s fingers move between Connor’s cheeks and rub lightly over his hole, giving Hank just the time to kiss Connor again before the latter gasps out a loud moan. With both hands back on Hank’s shoulders, Connor holds on for dear life as he fights to keep his voice down while Hank speeds up his hand over their lengths. He bites down on the side of Hank’s lip when Hank breaches him with a finger, pressing it in until the whole digit is inside. 

“You’re doing so well. Can’t wait to be able to really hear you,” Hank talks, voice low, licking over the sting from Connor’s teeth on his lip. “Because you are, right? Gonna lemme hear that sweet voice as I take you apart.”

Connor nods fervently, “Yes, yes, please, I-”

Connor’s voice is rising as his whines pick up the closer he’s getting to release. 

“Sh, you gotta be quiet now. Show me how quiet you can be, and I promise to make you scream until you’re hoarse later.” Hank finishes his sentence with a second finger entering Connor, slowly stretching him wider. 

Connor crashes his mouth into Hank’s in his desperation to make Hank’s words come true. He keens with his lips still sealed to Hank’s while he comes over their bellies and dicks. Hank groans and twists the fingers inside Connor, receiving another high-pitched whine from him, and comes hotly between their bodies as well. 

They stay locked together for a little while, the bruising kiss turning slower and into a few small pecks. 

“Better?” Hank asks at length, and Connor chuckles with a small nod against Hank’s shoulder, where he’s been resting his head. 

Connor slowly moves away from Hank and grimaces at the mess on his clothes, but can’t bring himself to regret anything when he sees their shared release on Hank’s skin. He quickly moves to the sink to run a soft towel under warm water and hand it to Hank. He shakes his head to clear it when he just stares while Hank cleans himself. Blushing, he mumbles something about changing into his regular clothes. He hears Hank moving behind him a moment later and walking into the changing room to get dressed as well. 

Connor finishes cleaning the room when Hank walks back out, fully dressed again. His hair is loose, however, and Connor wants to card his fingers through it. His skin breaks into goosebumps when he remembers Hank’s earlier promise. 

“My place is close by,” Connor blurts out, and blushes at how eager he sounds.

And he is. Connor has never considered or even wanted to take a customer home, but he wants more of Hank. More of that strength hidden under warm and gentle fingers. He wants to see what lies under the warning, in the promise.

Hank seems startled by Connor’s words, and his eyes narrow as he watches Connor silently. 

“You got a car?” Hank ends up asking, and Connor nods. “Right… Guess I’ll just follow you then?”

Connor is nodding again when there’s a soft, single knock on his office door. He walks over to it and opens to find Markus standing on the other side. 

“Hey, Simon and I are about to leave. Are you — Oh, sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” Markus says as he notices Hank standing near Connor’s desk. 

“Mr. Anderson was just leaving.” Connor opens the door further to let Hank out, who nods at Markus and wishes them a good evening. Connor watches him walk down the corridor and into the lobby before returning his attention to Markus. “You guys go ahead, I still have a couple of things to take care of.”

“Fine, but don’t stay too late again, alright?” Markus squeezes Connor’s shoulder affectionately before saying good evening as well and following behind Hank. 

Connor lets five minutes pass before closing out of his laptop and exiting his office. The lobby is already dark when he walks to the glass entrance doors. There’s one last car except his own in the parking lot, and Connor grins when he recognizes Hank behind the wheel, relieved that the man stayed. Closing up, Connor makes his way towards Hank’s car and knocks on the window, making the older man jerk in his seat in surprise. Connor laughs at the unimpressed look Hank is giving him for startling him, but nods his head in the direction of his car, indicating for Hank to follow him like convened earlier. Hank’s engine starts to confirm his agreement, and Connor quickly walks to his car. 

It doesn’t take them long to get to Connor’s apartment lot. Connor parks in his assigned space, while Hank drives to one of the visitor's spots. Connor steps out of his car and waits for Hank to join him before taking one of Hank’s hands in his and tugging him towards his building. Hank makes a surprised sound at the action, but doesn’t comment on it. They don’t speak while they take the elevator leading to Connor’s apartment, they simply wait for the right floor, hands still linked together.



Connor is on Hank the moment the door to the apartment closes on them.  

“Fuck, you’re eager,” Hank mumbles, startled, while Connor pushes him against the door. 

“Of course I am.” Connor’s hands are everywhere, as if not sure where to start touching Hank first. 

Connor’s matter-of-fact tone takes Hank aback, however. Because he realizes that Connor doesn’t just mean that he’s eager to get off again, but that it’s because of Hank. 


“Just… Have you seen yourself? You’re…” Hank gestures helplessly, and Connor takes a step back at Hank’s agitation. 

“I could ask you the same, exact question,” Connor says with that same tone as before and a soft smile, though his head tilts to the side, clearly confused by Hank’s behavior. 

Hank stares at Connor with an unreadable expression, but Connor looks right back and waits.

“You really mean it,” Hank finally states, voice rough.

No matter what happened earlier, Hank’s old insecurities raise their ugly heads while he’s still reeling that someone as gorgeous as Connor wants him like he seems to so genuinely do. He’d intended to think of what happened in the massage room as a spur of the moment decision and that Connor wouldn’t want more after getting off. Connor cuts into his thoughts with a gentle voice. 

“Hank, just so we’re clear? I’ve never done anything like that before with a patient. I…” Connor slides his fingers over Hank’s middle, up to his chest and to his arms. “You’re everything I could dream of.” Connor’s tone is reverential, voice lowering. 

Something breaks inside Hank at Connor’s words, and makes him push forward to catch Connor by the nape and angle his face up for a bruising kiss. Connor utters a sound of surprise at the sudden change of pace, but throws his arms around Hank’s neck a second later to kiss him back fiercely. His fingers go to Hank’s shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as possible, while his focus lies more on sliding his tongue against Hank’s. Shirt finally open, Connor strokes his fingers over Hank, from waist to shoulders, humming contentedly into Hank’s mouth. 

“So big,” he moans and slides his arms around Hank’s waist to get a better feel. 

Hank can’t help the amused chuckle at Connor’s petting and the feeling of pride at being desired like that. His laugh dies on his lips when Connor sinks to his knees with no further ado, and proceeds to undo Hank’s pants with quick movements. He bites into his bottom lip when he reveals Hank’s still mostly soft cock. 

“Ah… Give me some time, I-” Hank starts, but Connor shakes his head and noses along Hank’s sack in a far too sweet manner for the place he’s doing it to. 

“Allow me to take care of it,” Connor croaks, lips grazing the skin where Hank’s leg meets his groin. 

Hank stares, fascinated, as Connor slowly makes his way along Hank’s skin, kissing and nibbling around his length. Connor’s lips glide over it, just a slow tease, until they reach the head, and he sucks it in with gentle pressure. The tip of his tongue presses against the frenulum, getting a long exhale and a groan from Hank for it. Connor hums in pleasure when his mouth has to accommodate Hank’s growing length and lets Hank slide against the back of his throat. 

“Ah — Fuck,” Hank grunts, fingers tangling in Connor’s hair while his eyes take everything in. 

Connor’s hands, meanwhile, never stop their exploration of Hank’s body. They stroke over Hank’s thighs, up his stomach and around his hips when he wants to get more of Hank in his mouth. One thing is certain, he's slowly driving Hank mad with his eager tongue and gentle fingers.

Reaching his limits, Hank grabs Connor by an arm and pulls him up, amused nonetheless by the small, indignant sound coming from Connor when he has to stop his ministrations on Hank. In the same move, Hank fits an arm under Connor's ass and lifts him off the ground, so that Connor nearly folds at the waist over Hank's shoulder. Connor shouts in surprise, but immediately starts fretting over Hank's back. 

“I'm fine. Told ya your hands are magical. And you weigh less than that beam I lifted.”

Connor holds on to Hank as best as he can, while the older man easily finds Connor's bedroom and more or less throws him onto the bed. Connor's breath leaves him as he bounces on the mattress and stares up at Hank with wide eyes, his cheeks stained red and mouth agape. Hank also notices how Connor's pants obscenely tent at the front from where he has his legs parted and bent at the knees.

“You liked that? That I'm strong enough to lift you like that?”

Connor licks his lips and swallows before answering with a breathless, but heartfelt, “Yes.”

“Wanna be manhandled?” Hank puts a knee on the mattress before leaning over Connor with his hands at each side of Connor's head. “Hold you down while I fuck the voice out of you?”

Connor blinks rapidly, breaths coming in quick succession, and nods fervently. “Please.”

Hank’s eyes soften at Connor’s easy admittance and plea. 

“Oh, Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” Hank leans in to press a demanding kiss to Connor’s lips, before retreating to kneel back up.


Connor executes himself immediately, his hands going to the hem of his sweater to pull it off in one fluid move, leaving his hair to stick up at various angles. The moment his hands are free of his sweater, they go to his pants to undo the buttons and pull down the zipper. It’s when he’s about to tug the material down his hips that he suddenly stops to look up at Hank. 

“What about you?” He asks, his eyes roaming hungrily over the skin peeking out from between the open lapels of Hank’s shirt. 

Hank smiles lightly and shrugs out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. 


Connor blinks a few times and licks his lips. Hank needs to get used to the way Connor seems to be unable to take his eyes off his body. He has to bite down on a groan when Connor’s eyes continue to lower until they focus on Hank’s erection, that is back in his underwear but straining against the cotton. 

“Later,” Hank promises, using a firmer tone, though, to get Connor out of his trance. 

It works. Connor looks back into Hank’s face and nods while his hands finally push his pants and underwear down his legs to then kick them off to follow the sweater. 

Connor is, simply put, stunning. Hank takes his time observing Connor’s pale skin that is dotted with small beauty marks, the long legs, parted to reveal his flushed cock, the open anticipation and bright eyes on his handsome face. All of this for Hank to feast his eyes on. 


Hank had gotten so lost in his perusal that he’s startled by the near quiet whine in Connor’s voice. 

“Later,” Hank repeats when he leans back down over Connor and catches the younger man’s hand that tries to reach for Hank’s pants. 

Hank kisses Connor deeply, enjoying the pleased hum coming from him and how his arms wrap around Hank’s shoulders. He cuts the kiss short however and bites playfully at Connor’s jaw when the latter tries to reel him back in. Without any warning, Hank kneels up again and flips Connor with his hands on the younger man’s hips. Connor yelps, but gasps a second later when Hank moves him until he’s resting on his knees, ass in the air and upper body on the bedsheets, his hands close to his face. 

“Shit, look at you,” Hank croons, stroking a few fingers up and down Connor’s spine, the skin there breaking into goosebumps. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 

Hank notices how Connor’s face, that is facing to the side against the bed, stains red and moves to hide in the crux of an elbow. 

“No, no, sweetheart, you don’t get to hide from me. I wanna hear you and see your face while I take you apart.” Hank extends an arm towards Connor’s, pulling it away to reveal Connor’s face, eyes meeting Hank’s shyly. 

“Okay,” he whispers, eyes wide and pupils blown, at Hank’s eyebrows lifting in question.

“Good boy,” Hank rumbles and kisses the middle of Connor’s back before straightening once more. 

The choked out gasp and whine that leave Connor at those words have Hank stilling for a second and staring at the way Connor squeezes his eyes closed and fights not to hide his face again. Hank’s face slowly morphs into a knowing smirk. He puts his hands on the sides of Connor’s ass and strokes his thumbs over the soft skin of the cheeks, the pads sliding slightly between them. 

“You’re full of surprises, Con,” he says conversationally. “Are you, though? You're gonna be a good boy for me?” 

“H — Hank, please.” Connor’s fingers twist in the sheets while his voice breaks on the plea. 

“Are you?” Hank insists, and leans down to lick over Connor’s tailbone before nibbling at the skin of one cheek and sucking on it lightly. 

“I — I,” Connor stutters and stops. 

“Are you?” Hank parts the cheeks and swipes his tongue over the twitching hole, the skin still soft from earlier. 

YES! Yes, I’ll be a — a good boy!” Connor screams at the feeling of Hank’s tongue pressing into him at last. 

“Think you should be rewarded for your honesty,” Hank says against hot skin.

In the next second, he presses his lips around Connor’s hole and sucks at it with relish, alternating with teasing swipes of his tongue and using the tip to push further inside. Hank has to wrap his arms around Connor’s thighs as the younger man thrashes in Hank’s hold, his legs trembling as they fight to keep him in the right position. Hank speaks words of praise each time he switches up what he’s doing, and receives loud keens and unintelligible cries from Connor in return. Connor sobs when Hank uses both thumbs to spread him open even more and teases his tongue around the rim before fucking his tongue back inside. 

Hank straightens to look at his handiwork, pleased to see how the skin on the inside of the cheeks has gone a nice pink color from his beard rubbing against it continuously. 

“So pretty,” Hank swipes a saliva covered thumb over the abused flesh while Connor whines and bucks into the touch. “Where d’you keep your stuff?” Hank then asks, never removing his eyes from how his thumb pushes easily enough inside Connor. 

Connor tries to rise, although his quivering legs make it harder for him, but Hank uses his other hand to keep him down and in the same position. 

“Just tell me.”

“But — ah — bedside table drawer.” 

“Good boy,” Hank whispers roughly, chuckling at the way Connor shivers and whines faintly. 

Hank stands from the bed to get to the bedside table and open the drawer. He wants to comment on the two vibrators inside it, but chooses to focus on taking out the lube and a condom. He’s about to return to his position behind Connor, when the latter’s words stop him. 

“I wanted to see you.” 

Hank looks into Connor’s face lying on the bed, his eyes completely dark in arousal as they look at Hank. His face has a constant flush to it, and parted, bitten lips emit small pants. Hank contemplates him for another second, before he puts the items on the sheets and takes off the rest of his clothes. Connor’s eyes run over Hank’s body, eyes going wide in awe and zero in on Hank’s thick length, the tip glistening. Hank groans at the way Connor licks his lips at the sight and takes himself in hand to give his cock a few perfunctory pumps. 

“Another time,” Hank rasps, the idea of getting to come in Connor’s mouth too heady not to be considered for a later time. 

Connor’s eyes snap to his, and he nods fervently. Smiling, Hank strokes his fingers through Connor’s soft hair, before letting them trail up his spine until they’re on his ass again and Hank is standing behind him once more, taking the lube and condom with him. He pumps a few spurts into his palm and warms the liquid before sliding a thumb and two fingers over Connor’s entrance. Connor gasps at the contact and pushes his ass back into it.

“Please, please,” Connor whispers repeatedly. 

Not waiting for more consent, Hank pushes inside with index and middle finger, the glide made easy with the lube and the previous preparation. Connor moans feebly, until Hank turns his hand and his fingers press over Connor’s prostate, making him cry out shrilly. He babbles and curses while Hank takes his time looking at the way his fingers stretch Connor for him, his dick jerking at the thought of being inside the tight heat. The thumb of his other hand holds one butt cheek open to give him more room and a better view. 

Hank leans over Connor while keeping his fingers deep inside him, slowly kissing his way from the middle of Connor’s back until he arrives at his shoulders and trails his lips along their width and the nape. Hank’s chest touches Connor’s back when he moves closer to speak into Connor’s ear. The younger man presses back again with a pleased sigh, so Hank pushes him down further. 

“You’re doing so, so well, Con. Wish you could see how fuckin’ hot you look with my fingers inside you.” Hank places a kiss right under Connor’s ear. “Now let’s see how it feels if I add a third one, hm?” 

Hank angles his head in such a way that he can see Connor’s face when the aforementioned finger presses against the rim and pops inside before it starts moving in more. Connor is already panting harshly, wet lips parted and saliva staining the bedsheets a few shades darker, but his mouth opens further on a drawn out moan at the stretch. His whole body jerks under Hank when he rubs his fingers gently over Connor’s prostate, a few nonsensical words falling from his mouth. 

“You’re a fuckin’ piece of art, y’know? I could watch you taking my fingers for hours with the way you react to them. So damn sensitive.” Hank intensifies the circles he’s drawing into Connor’s sweet spot. “So damn, beautiful. Such a good boy for me.”

Without warning, Connor suddenly comes with a high-pitched keen, his hole clenching tightly around Hank’s fingers and having the older man groaning at the sensation. 

“I — I — I’m so sorry, Hank. I didn’t mean to — I — I didn’t realize I was so close — I —.” Connor’s words fall over each other as he apologizes profusely, his back heaving with shuddering breaths, but Hank peppers sweet kisses along his visible cheek and shoulders, shushing him gently. 

“Hey, hey. You did nothin’ wrong. You’re allowed to come as many times as you want, sweetheart. And that was so hot to watch. You’re amazing. You did so good.” Hank lets the words of praise and reassurance flow freely, while he keeps pressing soft kisses to Connor’s skin. Because Connor is everything and more. 

Connor sighs deeply, and his body relaxes again at Hank’s words.

“Now… You wanna stop or-”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Connor’s head moves back as much as possible so that he can stare into Hank’s eyes fiercely. “Please, I — you said…” 

Hank kisses Connor’s soft lips with a fond chuckle, and pushes back up to get to the condom and the lube. Connor turns his head slightly and watches Hank with open want. While he’s putting on the condom, Hank notices the traces of release on the sheets between Connor’s spread legs, and slides a teasing finger along his half hard length. Connor gasps and twitches at the touch, but raises his ass higher in invitation. Hank’s movements quicken at the sight, and he squirts a few dollops of lube directly onto his dick before coating it liberally. 

Taking a firmer grip on himself, Hank puts the head against Connor’s hole before his eyes drop to Connor’s, who’s still watching him raptly. Hank is about to ask if he’s ready, but Connor is already nodding enthusiastically, a barely audible “Please, please, please,” coming from him. 

With his other hand on Connor’s hip, Hank presses forward, the soft rim giving way while still squeezing around the head once it’s inside. Connor exhales on a loud moan, while Hank groans deeply. Carefully watching for any signs of discomfort on Connor’s face, Hank continues to push until his hips meet Connor’s ass. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” Connor babbles when Hank slowly slides back out, his inner walls tightening around the thick length to try to keep Hank inside. 

“Fuck, you feel — fuck, so damn good.” Hank strokes around the rim with a finger, marveling at the enticing stretch around his cock. “Look at you, squeezing me so, so tight — fuck — yeah, just like that.” 

“Ah — Hank. More, please — I.” Connor tries to push back onto Hank’s dick and whines in pleasure when Hank lets him get a few thrust in. 

“Com’ere.” Hank moves over Connor to slide a large palm around his jaw and lift him up gently. 

Connor moves with him, using his hands for leverage as he pushes up to kneel on the bed, his back against Hank’s chest, while Hank’s other arm wraps around Connor’s waist. Hank’s cock slides in deeper this way and knocks the breath out of Connor. 

“Tell me exactly what you want, Con.” Hank swivels his hips, his cock rubbing all around and sliding over Connor’s prostate, earning Hank a sharp gasp and a whine. “What do you mean with more ? Do you just want harder? Like this?” Hank pulls his hips back until only the head remains inside, before slamming back inside the younger man, who cries out loudly, hands scrabbling along Hank’s arms. “Or faster?” This time, he speeds up, snapping his hips against the other’s ass rapidly.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh-” Connor can only hold on to Hank while the latter fucks him hard and fast.

“H — Hank — k — k, please — oh -”

“Tell me, Con. Anything you want.” Hank slows again but presses his hips hard against Connor’s ass to be as deep as possible, though. 

“What you said before — hold me down. Wanna feel how big you are. I — I want…” Connor trails off, but Hank understands just fine. 

He angles the younger man’s face towards his to be able to slot his lips over his in a deep kiss. Next, he pushes Connor back down into his previous position and fucks right back into him, his hands fitting over Connor’s hips as he pulls him back onto his dick while he snaps forward. Connor wails, his face turned to one side, and his hands reach for nothing until his fingers tangle in the sheets to hold on for dear life. Hank feels more than sees Connor’s legs shake wildly, before they finally give out and Connor’s whole body sinks to the mattress, Hank’s length slipping free in the process. 

This doesn’t bother Hank at all, he’s rather satisfied with himself that he got Connor to this point. It only takes him a second to decide on how to proceed. Reaching for the head of the bed, he grabs a pillow before fitting an arm under Connor’s prone form and lifting his hips with ease to get the pillow under them. Connor emits a small, surprised “Oh,” at Hank moving him like he weighs nothing, and lets himself be manhandled into the new position. Hank leaves Connor’s legs slightly spread and straddles his thighs before leaning over Connor. Hank holds himself up on one elbow as he slips his forearm under Connor’s shoulder, and uses his other hand to guide his cock back inside the tight heat. He intentionally goes in slow, making Connor feel every inch of him and getting a long and high moan in answer. Once he’s fully inside again, Hank does the same thing with his other arm and pushes it under Connor’s other shoulder. This way he can put more weight on his arms as his hips move up and then slam back down. 

Connor just screams, the sound piercing through the room. 

“Like that?” Hank rumbles into the other’s ear as he repeats the motion and presses Connor further into the mattress, getting the same enthusiastic response. 

“Just like that, Hank — Aaah — you’re — Ah — so much, so good,” Connor babbles, his words interspersed with loud cries and whimpers as Hank keeps up his pace and Connor tries to lift his hips even more to meet Hank’s thrusts. 

“Yeah, lemme hear that voice. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel.”

“So, sooo good. Hank-” Connor wails at one particular sharp slap back inside him, voice cracking slightly. 

“You feel so good under me. Takin’ me so deep. Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” 

Hank can’t stop the words from coming. The eagerness emanating from each word or sound that Connor is making as well as his hole fluttering around Hank’s cock are driving Hank mad with want and the desire to give Connor everything he needs. Connor’s words start losing sense entirely, transforming into sharp cries and various loud sounds as Hank picks up speed and pounds him into the bed, making him rub against the pillow under his hips. 

“Ah fuck, I’m so close, Sweetheart. You’re being so good for me that I’m already so damn close.” Hank licks over Connor’s jawline and his neck, nipping at the skin. 

Connor’s whole body is starting to tremble, his hands holding the sheets in an iron grip. 

“Hank, please. Please — Oh — I need — Ah.” 

Hank can only be satisfied at how rough and scratchy Connor’s voice has become after screaming and sobbing in pleasure for so long. Even in his own pleasured haze, even while his release is rising steadily to the surface, Hank still hears Connor’s plea. 

“You’ve been so good, Con. Gonna make me come so hard.” Hank changes the angle of his hips just so, and immediately knows that he’s hitting his mark by the way Connor’s body goes taut, and he sobs in pleasure. “Yeah, you’ve been such a good boy for me. So goo-” Hank’s words get cut off by his loud grunt when Connor’s hole tightens around him. 

Connor comes undone under him in a spectacular way; his body seizes up, while his voice breaks entirely on the long scream of ecstasy leaving his throat. Hank only gets a few more thrusts in before he’s coming as well, white-hot heat coursing through him. 

Connor is taking in deep and trembling breaths, his eyes half closed as he stares unseeingly at the wall to their side. Hank feels boneless after his second orgasm of the day, but manages to keep most of his weight on his arms. He kisses Connor's cheek, getting a small smile for it, and pulls out with a grunt and a whine from Connor, before he lets himself fall to the free side of the bed. Quickly removing the condom and disposing of it in the small trash can standing next to the bedside table, Hank turns on his side and holds himself up on an elbow to face Connor. The younger man hasn’t moved at all except to turn his head to face Hank, staring at him with soft eyes. 

“You good?” Hank inquires, while stroking his fingers along Connor’s spine. 

“Mhm. Fantastic.” Connor’s voice is hoarse, the one word coming out sounding like he'd swallowed some gravel. 

Hank smiles at how relaxed the younger man is under his fingers, but grimaces at the voice, despite having given his all to get it in this state in the first place. He drifts his hand from Connor’s back up to his shoulders, until it reaches the pale column that is Connor’s neck, and rubs a gentle thumb over the Adam’s apple. 

“You kept your promise,” Connor grins and takes Hank’s hand in his to then kiss the knuckles. 

Hank chuckles and ducks his head to kiss the other’s brow. 

“We should get you off those sheets,” he speaks against Connor’s temple and laughs under his breath at Connor’s unhappy whine. 

“Can’t move,” he pouts. 

“Can’t or don’t want to?” Hank’s fingers have returned to Connor’s back and are trailing down until they get to Connor’s ass and circle the tailbone with a featherlight touch. 

Connor hums at the contact, his eyes closing briefly. “Both?” 

Hank snorts and pushes lightly at Connor’s hip to get him to move. 

“Come on. Otherwise, you’re gonna regret it when the sheets and pillow have dried against your skin.” 

“Gross.” Connor wrinkles his nose.


With a put on sigh, Connor rolls to the side. The sheets and the pillow are a mess, and Hank notices how Connor’s cheeks redden at the sight. 

“If you tell me where you keep your sheets, I can put new ones on while you shower,” Hank offers with a soft smile. 

“Oh — I thought…” Connor’s eyes glance in the direction of the open bathroom door, before they look at Hank again. 

“As much as I’d love to shower with you, I doubt that either of us has the energy to even just make out in it,” Hank says gently, rubbing a finger over one of Connor’s knees. 

Connor huffs out a small laugh through his nose and nods in agreement. Quietly, he stands on wobbly legs that Hank can’t help feeling proud on being the cause of, and ambles towards a closet to get fresh sheets out. Hank stands as well and takes the linens with a warm press of his lips to the other man’s. 

“Thanks.” Connor ducks his head with a smile and walks off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Hank gets dressed and makes quick work of removing the stained sheets and putting the new ones on. By the time he’s smoothening out the coverlet, Connor is walking out of the bathroom wearing soft-looking flannel pajama pants and a simple long sleeved t-shirt. His hair is sticking up slightly, while one curl falls into his eyes. Hank’s heart squeezes at the sight. He had never expected to meet someone like Connor when he’d gotten his appointment just yesterday. 

“How’s your back?” Connor looks sheepish, like he’d entirely forgotten about Hank having been in pain just a few hours earlier. 

“I think I’m gonna regret choosing the last position tomorrow morning, but otherwise I’m good,” Hank shrugs, not really minding if some pain was coming back. It had all been worth it. 

“I could — take care of it in the morning?” Connor asks slowly, carefully hopeful. 

Hank would be a fool to refuse to stay. Not with how Connor is looking at him, lust gone, but the fondness in those brown eyes taking Hank’s breath away even more than any carnal desire ever could. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Connor’s face breaks into a brilliant smile, and he joins Hank at the side of the bed. Together, they fold down the coverlet and slip under it, Hank sitting up against the headboard with Connor slotting into his side and wrapping an arm around Hank’s middle. 

They spend a while talking in hushed tones, to give Connor's voice a chance to recuperate, as well as for the intimacy it provides. Fingers trail lightly over skin in a soft caress, until their stomachs let themselves known, and they decide to order in. 

“I’ll get it.” Connor kisses Hank lightly and gets off the bed when the buzzer goes off at the front door, signaling that their food has arrived. 

He comes back a few short minutes later, take-away bag in hand, and puts it on the bedside table. 

“Got us some drinks too.”

“Good boy,” Hank teases with a playful grin and a wink, making Connor groan and cover his face with both hands in embarrassment.  

“Oh God, please stop.”

Hank laughs and lifts a hand to grab one of Connor’s wrists to tug the younger man over his lap, noticing the sweet blush on his face as he lands. When Hank kisses him, all he can feel is the smile on Connor’s lips.