[ hank is acutely aware of connor's presence at his side, the sheer self-control he's exercising not to fidget, or to do any of a million things that hank's figured out that connor wants to do in situations like these. he can read him, he can predict, largely, just what connor means to to. of late, they've been closer than close, spending time together in their bed, twined around each other -- and connor, so much more affectionate than he lets on. he has an inkling of what connor means to do, but he's limited by this bar, and maybe hank's getting tired of this bar a little, too.
hell, connor isn't even commenting on hank's drinking, which means that the other is truly, genuinely concerned -- going straight from greeting to comforting is a rare occurrence unless hank looks like shit. and he probably definitely looks like shit.
he snorts softly at that pep talk, smiling into his glass -- it's small and fleeting, but genuine, at least. ]
Like you did?
[ he says quietly, because hell yeah he remembers, and he was so proud of him for that, unfortunately, reed's made connor his new target, and is now pissing hank off accordingly with it. ]
Some bullshit about you.
[ hank grumbles after a moment's pause, when he'd weighed the consequences of telling him versus not; no point keeping it from connor, he's going to know about that sooner rather than later. ] Fucker found out I'm with you.
[ and hank hadn't denied it -- what for? to save face? fuck, hank's done far worse than connor. he gives him a sidelong glance, attempting to gauge his reaction. ] Had a field day coming up with disgusting shit, so now the whole office knows. And then Fowler just had to be an asshole with another thing.
it makes a hell of a lot more sense that hank would react so strongly when the target of the insults was connor, not himself. hank has always fought much harder for connor's defence than he ever has his own.
hank stood at fowler's office door after the success of the revolution and yelled the list of reasons why he should hire connor back at the DPD until his voice went hoarse. hank rose to bite back at reed every day when he sidled his way past connor and hank's desks. hank insisted he be treated equally in the field, even when that meant arguing with stubborn forensic pathologist with strong anti-android views.
detective reed not only insulting connor but degrading him, and to all of their colleagues and coworkers ( not to mention connor's superiors ), it suddenly makes a lot more sense that hank is sitting in this bar. an ache swells in his chest and he wants to reach out to him again, so much that it feels like it will physically hurt him not to. )
I'll speak with Detective Reed. ( a civil conversation of course. in private, so that people won't know if it becomes...uncivil. ) Ignoring him obviously isn't working.
( he turns his head enough that he can see the booth at the wall behind them, and he checks that it is empty before his gaze returns to hank. he swivels in his stool, enough that his knees are lightly touching hank's thigh. it's nothing, they can barely call it contact, but it's all that connor is allowed under the circumstances.
they really need a change of venue. ) Until then....how can I help?
[ well, what's there for hank to defend about himself? he's a has-been, washed up, someone who was going places before life fucked him over without lube. where's there for him to fight for, if not for someone else? connor deserves better than the treatment he gets by the others. even if there are laws protecting androids now, they still have a long way to go. ]
The hell you are.
[ hank says sharply, finishing up his glass. he doesn't want connor anywhere near that fucking sleazeball, and his gaze is flinty as he looks back at connor. it's admirable, connor wanting to smooth things over, but sometimes people are bastard coated bastards with bastard fillings, and there's no use trying to reason with them. the less reed is exposed to connor, the better, because if it happens again, it's not connor that'll knock him out cold, it'll be hank himself, fuck the whole spiel about holding back.
but then he's sensing the brush of connor's knee against his own, something flickering in the back of his mind. connor doesn't do anything without reason, nor does he resort to idle touches -- no, there's a purpose and objective for everything he's doing, and he raises his brows at him, cottoning on.
this isn't a good place for them, right. ]
We can bounce. [ he says to him suddenly. ] Wait for me, I gotta piss.
[ because he knows full well connor won't obey, and he heads straight to the back to the bathroom. connor's asked him just what he can do to help, didn't he? hank's just thought of one. ]
( connor smiles, a broad sweet thing when hank says that he's happy to leave–
...and it takes all of two seconds for things to click into place.
he doesn't wait long before standing as well, following him into the bathroom. the anti android sentiments are still scratched into the walls and stalls of the bathroom, but connor honestly doesn't even register them when he walks in after hank. when the door swings shut, he's smiling again. this one is smaller, it's a secret smile. still sweet in a way, but more keen, interested, a smile just for hank.
there's stalls in the bathroom, all four doors open and unoccupied. connor levels his gaze at hank, an eyebrow raised but the smile still on his face. if he's judging, he's also into it. )
So this is going to help you forget the terrible day you've just had?
( he asks, leaning gently against the wall and watching hank. it's not the worst idea he's hand, honestly. )
[ to be fair, connor is a sweet, sweet thing, and hank doesn't actually miss that smile -- he can practically hear it emanating from the android who, true to his nature, is disobedient. it works in his favor this time, and he's already waiting for connor when he steps in smoothly through the swinging doors.
he's reaching out, tugging him by the tie into the second stall (it looks the cleanest out of the lot of them) and tries not to think about how so many of their trysts revolve around the bathroom. he likes that smile, he decides; he sees it rarely, but he knows it comes out when connor's genuinely pleased with him, so he lets that judgement go, you judgey little asshole.
he's pushes the stall door shut, cornering connor effortlessly up against him. the android might be able to beat him up six ways from sunday and then some, but it doesn't stop hank from enjoying the height difference he has on him. ]
Think so. Gotta try everything, right?
[ the answer, of course, is yes. his mood had lifted when he'd set eyes on connor, but he'd rather cut his own balls off before admitting that, so there you have it. he's cupping the back of his neck when he's leaning down to kiss him, his hand flat on the door beside his head, convenient covering anti-android sentiments carved onto the wood.
fucking an android in an anti-android bathroom, they're really going places. ]
( connor and hank are both well aware that connor would be more than able to remain stood in his position if he wanted to, aware that when hank pushes him around or manhandlea him into positions that connor is letting him, but it only makes it sweeter when hank opens a stall and connor allows the man to push him in, move him about and crowd him up against the door.
connor quickly pushes up to meet the kiss, immediately intense and more than a little needy. it's not hard to figure out why hank has pulled him in here – for sex, obviously, but more than that to clear his head, try and soothe over an evidently unpleasant day – so connor doesn't waste any time with slowly building the mood. it's already there, and even though this is about hank he would be lying if he tried to deny that the situation is definitely doing something for him. it's not just the thrill of being caught, it's the bar itself, the history it holds and the graffiti scrawled across the walls and etched into the door. connor honestly can't think of a better way to spite bigotry right now.
a hand slides up to the back of hank's head, fingers taking through his hair before gripping lightly. the other finds his waistband, tugging the hem of hank's shirt out of the way so that he can graze his fingers over the skin just above hank's belt, flattening his palm against hank's stomach and rubbing slowly. he works his fingers under the waistband, softly stroking lower until he's dragging his fingers through pubic hair, which is where connor stops. he keeps stroking, alternating between the slow run down and grazing his nails against the skin on the way up, but he doesn't move any lower. )
We'll have to be quiet. ( connor mumbles, after tightening his grip on hank's hair so that he can pull the man's head away just far enough for connor to whisper the words. they're still close enough that his lips brush hank's as he speaks, close enough that connor can quickly, lightly lap his tongue against hank's mouth. close enough that it takes hardly any movement at all to get hank's lower lip between his teeth and bite down hard enough to hurt, just a little.
he doesn't exactly see this being a gentle, loving sex session, after all. ) If anyone catches us, it won't end well.
You have to be quiet. I'm not the one mewling like a cat in heat.
[ hank counters softly in between kisses, eyes darkened to almost black with unfettered lust. no, they don't need foreplay -- this bar is foreplay enough, this shitty place with its shitty, pointless hate, and hank is going to fuck his android right here just to piss on all of it.
he's looking at him now, really looking at him, a hand cupping connor's face. he's surprisingly tender for being such a grumpy fucker, but connor has done nothing wrong -- he hasn't even asked to exist, and yet here he is, beautiful and young and too damn good for him.
but hank can pretend he deserves to have him, even as he shivers, heart racing when those smooth fingers work their way down his pants to his pubes, his dick filling out the longer connor lingers, a pavlovian reaction to the proximity of those talented digits.
he grinds his hips up against his with a low groan, stifling it against connor's mouth as he ravages it again, the hot slide of tongue against tongue, letting connor sample the burn of whiskey in his mouth even as he savors the sting of connor's nip. god, but he loves it when connor is frisky. ]
You're so fucking beautiful.
[ he mutters, letting go of his face to fumble at connor's belt, the catch of his pants. he's tugging them open swiftly, reaching in to fondle him, to give his balls a good palming because he quite likes them. he's pushing those impeccably ironed pants down his hips, letting it fall to his shoes as he continues. ]
You wanna fuck in this place too, don't ya? Right here in this shithole that has no place to hate androids.
( he snaps back quickly, but there's no actual bite to the words. it's hard to even feign annoyance when he just sounds impossibly fond so he doesn't bother with pretences. he'll bring it up later though, when hank's in a better space and connor isn't in a weird space of concern for hank and horny for him. because he absolutely doesn't mewl.
( he sort of does )
connor is smiling again, because he enjoys praise far more than he'll willingly admit but also far more because he's once again surprised by his ability to love hank even more than before. they're in this nasty little stall in a nastier bathroom, in a dive bar with anti android sentiments scrawled all around them. hank's had an awful day and they're going to fuck as nasty as the bathroom they're standing in until the day looks a little better. and hank, gloriously sweet and kind for all his gruffer tendencies, has taken a moment to tell connor he's beautiful.
but he can't very well smile like a sweet little fool when hank's getting his pants open and groping at him. or well, he could, but he'd rather just move his hand to hank's jaw and tip the man's head back so that he can access his throat. he sucks at a spot high enough that it will be visible even with a collar, a little curious to see if hank will stop him, and he rolls his crotch down against hank's hands. )
Yeah, I really do. ( he murmurs the words without fully removing his lips from hank's neck. his pants will wrinkle like this, but he doesn't move to take them off fully so that he can fold them. it doesn't suit the location to fold them neatly and set aside, and it certainly suits the location to keep them around his ankles. being partially clothed is almost as much of a thrill as fucking in a bathroom, anyway. ) So good it's almost impossible to keep quiet.
[ hank is corrupting his android, one day at a time, he just knows this. weeks ago, connor probably wouldn't be keen to fuck in a bathroom (probably?) and especially in a place like this, but look at him now, willing and eager and smiling -- he can practically feel the contented pleasure emanating from him, and hank almost asks if connor always wears his emotions on his sleeve like this, or if it's just for him.
he doesn't, because a place as nasty as this doesn't deserve that kind of soft talk, so he files it away and curses softly when connor tips his head back, mouth and teeth and tongue sucking what is obviously a lovebite above his collar. he gives him a half-hearted swat for his trouble -- ]
Hey, asshole, watch it --
[ -- but is all too pleased to let connor do as he likes. besides, he can just say it's an animal attack, and watch connor's reaction to that. yeah, that's what he's gonna do. horny as hell and not about to wait, he's pulling away only to coax him to turn around, to brace himself against the door of the stall. ]
Gonna make you pay for that. They're gonna see it.
[ not that hank cares, but you know, a guy's gotta pretend so he has an excuse to spank his pretty, imperious little android. his heart is racing, beating faster with anticipation, warm heat curling in the pool of his stomach; it's just unfortunate he won't get to see his face. ]
Shh, quiet now.
[ he tells him, and no sooner does he say it before the door swings open again, heavy, lumbering footsteps heading over to the urinal just paces away. hank freezes midway with his hand curling over connor's balls, every instinct on alert.
( connor turns easily in hank's arms, cheek and upper body pressing flat against the door with his hands braced either side of himself. his head is turned enough like this that he can just about catch sight of hank behind him, and in turn hank can just about catch sight of the amused look on his face.
he won't deny that the thought of hank walking out with a bruise marking him at his throat makes connor viciously pleased – if connor thought the man would let him he'd waltz out of the bathroom with their hands clasped and held high in the air out of spite, to be sure that everyone knew exactly what they thought of anti-android sentiments, but hank's comfort is more important than connor's pettiness. especially now.
the swat doesn't hurt, not even a sting, and as he gives his hips a gentle roll into the palm of hank's hand connor is idly wondering if he can goad hank into really spanking him – and sure enough someone walks in. connor falls very still along with hank, but apparently he recovers faster than the man does, because even though the backing track of grunts and laboured breathing and an impossibly long piss stream isn't exactly very sexy, connor still drops a hand from the door and reaches back to grind his palm into hank's crotch through his pants.
and he moves his other hand off of the door just long enough to press a finger to his lips in a gesture to be quiet, definitely smirking now. )
[ hank does catch that look of amusement all right, but he doesn't respond to that when whoever it is comes in -- likely heavyset, perhaps one of the truckers who come by ever so often. he doesn't care for the grunt and the piss-stream but he does take this chance to continue fondling connor, jumping when he feels that hand rubbing up against his groin, massaging his already half-hard dick through his pants.
god, connor is a menace to everything around him.
he bites back a curse, fighting to be quiet when his imperious android lover just about does his darndest to make sure that hank makes some sort of sound. it's very sexy, the knife edge of danger. but hank has some shred of appearance to keep up, and as much as he's fine with being discovered fucking connor in a place like this, he knows there'll be a world of shit coming for them if they're discovered.
most importantly, he probably won't be welcome at jimmy's again and considering that this is his favorite watering hole, that particular consequence is catastrophic.
his mouth finds connor's throat now, sucking a similar lovebite because he's an asshole and because he wants to, going harder just so he can mar that flawless, synthetic skin, so smooth and so real under his attentions. he's unzipping himself when he hears the trucker moves and shuffle, rubbing into connor's hand and all but demanding that he draws him out, and quickly. ]
( connor arches his neck back to give hank more access, lips pressed tight together to keep himself quiet as his eyelids flutter shut. he could disable his vocal component, but that's hardly fair on hank who has to rely solely on self restraint. besides, half the thrill comes from having to force himself into silence.
it's really not going to be an easy task. connor already wants to encourage more from hank with soft, pleased noises. instead he settles for rubbing the heel of his hand into hank's crotch with a little more insistence. the bites won't remain on connor's skin like they do with hank, but when he sucks enough for the synthetic skin to bleed away connor stops the dermal layer from covering the marks over. the result is an effect almost comparable to a hickey, except they're white in contrast to the red-purple bruise already forming on hank's throat.
once hank's zip drops, connor doesn't waste any time. he hooks a thumb in the elastic of hank's boxers and shoves them down just enough to get his cock free from the material, and then he takes his hand away entirely. it's only for a moment though, long enough to grasp hank's wrist and move the man's hand away from his own crotch and place it on his ass. his hand grips over hank's, encouraging a firm grope of his asscheek before his attention returns to the neglected cock now hanging free. he quickly wraps his fingers around the base and he squeezes the shaft before starting to gently pump his fist, slow and teasing the whole time. )
[ hank is, generally speaking, a generous lover. for all his meanness and his ill-temper and his fierce insecurities, he can he surprisingly considerate -- and also more than a bit of an asshole.
he notices that connor hadn't gone the easy way out and muted himself, realising that he actually likes the challenge, which makes him so hot in ways he can't begin to trace. he lets his young lover guide his hand off his dick, and hank gives his ass an appreciative knead and squeeze in return. god, but connor is made for sex, the way he's so supple and firm, made to be ravished and worshipped and not used.
he's spreading those cheeks with his hands now, kneading them and biting back a moan. they can't be heard like this, or they will be roundly fucked, and not in a good way. but there is something real hot about this, even as he lets go of one cheek to slide his fingers up, up, gently nudging between his lips and pushing two inside his mouth, coaxing him to lick, to suck like the obedient boy he is.
he's grinding his cock into connor's smooth hand, happy to quietly indulge as he hears the stranger zip up and the tap running. rolling his hips into his, he eyes the strange new hickey imprinted on his skin, fascinated. he makes another one over it, a little harder this time. ]
( it feels like the stranger has been in the bathroom for hours, although connor's internal timers helpfully inform him that it has actually been two minutes and seven seconds. not abnormally long given that the man is clearly very drunk, but it takes an immense amount of self control for connor to stop himself from shouting at the guy to get out.
his lips part immediately at the press of hank's fingers and he's very deliberate to keep his head craned, neck twisted so that he can just about look at hank while he takes the man's fingers into his mouth. he doesn't have saliva exactly, but thanks to the analysis features on his tongue he does produce a thin fluid designed to keep them lubricated and free from contamination. turns out it's actually pretty handy for more than just lubricating his tongue sensors.
connor quickly sucks his fingers in completely, tongue rolling up against the underside of them before he sucks, hard. his cheeks hollow a little and his eyes never leave hank as he pushes his tongue between the two fingers, coating them thoroughly. he matches the pace of his fist around hank's cock, slow glides in time with the bob of his head as he basically blows hank's fingers.
his focus breaks when hank sucks at his neck. connor's eyes drop closed and his lips close firmly around hank's fingers to muffle any sound he might make. thank god the tap is running, because even with connor's efforts he still might have given them away.
finally the heavy footsteps move towards the exit. the door swings open, closes again, and connor groans, jaw falling slack with the fingers still resting in his mouth. he pumps his fist a little faster, a little more insistent, pushing his ass back towards hank's hips. )
Hank, I can't wait, come on.
( bit strange that his voice is perfectly clear despite the fingers still in his mouth, but it's hardly the weirdest thing connor has done during sex. )
[ it's really, really hot when connor's mouth just automatically opens up for him, like his fingers belong in his mouth, like he was made to just suck him off like that -- hank tries not to think too deeply about that one, because connor was built as an investigative model, not a sex android, even though hank is aware that connor's gone for a few... touch-ups. it moves him, to know that connor would do something like that for him, but it makes hank want to show him that he doesn't mind him as he is as well, with barely any give to him and strong and forceful as well and fully capable of cracking him open like a peanut.
still, he loves this moment when he gets to watch connor take his fingers inside him, and it makes his dick jump, immediately stiff in his trousers. it's too damn sexy, and he forgets what he's about to do for a moment, caught by the sight of it and knowing that he'll never, never forget. connor's mouth is hot and wet, and hank knows that it's on purpose. the cave of his mouth so human-like that he's teasing at his tongue now, brushing his fingers deftly over it while his lover sucks. he barely pays attention to the drunk trucker getting out of the bathroom, only alerted to it when connor groans, so low and so sweet that he swears he's going to come soon if he's not careful.
even worse, connor's jerking him off and grinding against him, and it's his turn to gently brush his hand away so he can grasp his dick himself, letting connor's go so he can line himself up, the buckle of his belt brushing against the small of connor's back before he's pushing the fat, thick head of his dick into that tight little hole, aware that it's wet and practically lubed up for him. he can't help a grunt, because fuck, it should be a sin for anyone to feel this good. ]
Shhh. And stop doing that.
[ he can hear voices outside. hank might not be fazed by just how his voice seems so clear despite the fingers in his mouth, but still. ]
( the moment the bathroom is empty some of connor's restraint relaxes. a little too much, most likely, because he can still hear people in the bar talking close to the bathrooms but connor moans loudly all the same. the sound surprises him a little, and he quickly makes a point to seal his lips tight around the fingers again. huffing a breath out of his nose instead to try and relieve some of the tension.
connor quickly brings both of his hands back up to brace against the wall, arching his back and angling his hips to try and give hank better access. there's a moment when his cock first presses against connor that he thinks there's no way he'll be able to stop himself from letting the whole bar know what's happening here when hank bottoms out. he's barely pushing in at all and connor is already breathing out through his nose hard again, short hard exhales to stop himself from moaning loudly again. )
I'm trying.
( his voice is still clear, but at least connor moves his mouth as though he needs it to speak this time. as he presses back against hank's cock he moves his hand off of the door, reaching for hank's hand and pushing a third finger in his mouth. because clearly that's going to help. )
hank grunts when connor tries to take his third finger to his mouth, and he pulls out of his reluctantly, his fingers slick before he clamps his hand firmly over his mouth to more effectively shut that up, probably, but his connor has always had an annoying way of circumventing things like that.
even so, he keeps his hand firmly clamped around him -- it's not like connor strictly needs to breathe, anyway, although hank himself has to stifle a groan as he presses his face to his shoulder, sinking it right to the base, his balls pressing against those cheeks. he's fully, wholly inside his lover now, gripping connor tight as he shivers, fighting not to move too quickly. he needs to let connor adjust to his girth, his length, his hand letting go of connor's cock to rub up gently against his lower abdomen, as if through it he could feel the barest hint of his cock sheathed deep inside him. ]
god, look at you.
[ he murmurs, low and soft and ragged, before slowly, slowly pulling out. ]
( it technically doesn't stop him from making noise, any more than the fingers pressed onto his tongue, but it certainly feels like it helps. connor parts his lips enough to run his tongue lightly over his palm, but after that he allows his eyes to slip completely shut.
once hank pushes fully into him he lets out a soft whine, much quieter than the moan, and he's already pushing himself back against the man. hank is much more concerned with connor adjusting to the intrusion than connor is, and connor is quickly urging him to move with insistent rocks of his hips. )
Feels so good, Hank.
( connor moves his mouth under the hand again to make the voice projection a little less weird. once hank starts to pull out again connor has patience for all of a few seconds, and then he flattens his hands on the door and locks his arms in firmly, so that he can use the leverage to fuck himself back on hank's cock. )
[ connor is a menace, just look at him. here hank is trying to be careful -- trying not to hurt him, and look what connor's doing, practically driving himself back onto his cock like he'd die if hank pulls out or doesn't go quick enough. it occurs to him to give his ass a warning slap, but then the doors swing open again, and this time it's two other dudes who are chatting animatedly about a football game.
his own response is cut off, and he manages a deep thrust, and another before he stills, buried deep inside him. they have to be quiet, to take it slow, and he's gripping connor's hip (even though he knows he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell of stopping connor if the android sets his mind to something) to keep him slow, still, gently squeezing his jaw in silent warning.
they really have to be quiet, now, and hank rolls his hips to reward him, to try to take the edge off connor's fierce longing to be fucked. ]
( the door swings open and connor abruptly cuts off mid-moan – he's disabled his vocal component this time, because even connor knows when he's been beat. now that hank is actually fucking him there's not a chance in hell connor will actually stay quiet enough to keep them from being caught. certainly not that abruptly, at least.
connor listens to the cheerful conversation between the two men, their brevity only delaying the amount of time they take to make it to the urinals and unzip. when hank rolls his hips slowly connor's jaw falls slack but he's still silent. his component buzzes slightly, a muffled sound deep in his throat that sounds more like a phone on silent than a voice box, but other than that he's quiet.
the hand at his hip stills him for a moment, but it's not long before he's very slowly rolling his hips back to meet hank's torturously slow thrusts. he's sure he'd be making a hell of a lot more noise if it weren't for the pseudo-gag he'd placed on himself, and instead he presses his cheek up against the wooden door and lifts up onto the balls of his feet, curving his hips upwards and pushing back against hank's cock.
he doesn't have a prostate in the traditional sense, but there's a number of different sensitive spots within him that can be stimulated by different angles. moving like this hits a new one, and without his voice online to express the sensation somehow connor just ends up with trembling thighs, synthetic muscles twitching rapidly every time hank slowly bottoms out. )
[ there's everything relatively unsettling about connor just suddenly cutting himself off -- it's different from the usual, and hank has had sex with him enough times to know that this is him disabling his vocal component just to ensure he stays quiet. it's sexy in its own, twisted way, knowing that connor can't be quiet unless he pretty much ensures that he just about mutes himself.
but he can hear it in the other ways, that buzzing little component that hank knows the other two gents in the room won't notice, and he goes harder, shallow and rapid thrusts while they're pissing, certain that they won'e be picked up, not when they're boisterously laughing at the same time.
he's groping connor's cock, squeezing and fisting his dick, inviting him to thrust into it at the same time hank surges balls deep into him, reckless and fierce and full of need. those thighs tremble, synthetic muscles pulsing around him, and hank realizes just what connor might be feeling -- his body might not be a normal human's, but hank is intimate enough with it to know the silent giveaways, and so he pretty much keeps to that angle, fucking into him and rubbing up against this new, sensitive little spot. ]
( now that connor has actually cut off his vocal component he's far less hesitant. he should really be more considerate, hank can't mute himself like connor has and the result will be just as bad if hank is caught moaning as it would if connor gives them away, but he's confident that hank has better self-control than connor does. hank's usually quieter than him during sex, and he has full faith that the man can keep his mouth shut for a few minutes until the guys chatting at the urinals leave.
or more accurately, he doesn't really think about that too much. selfish little thing that he is.
now that hank is fucking him properly connor has to push off of the door to stop it from rattling against the hinges. he spreads his arms wide to brace against the stall itself instead, on the frame either side of the door, and his elbows lock into place. he can't really thrust back against hank when he's focusing on keeping himself upright and not revealing them with the shaking door, but hank's more than making up for it.
his muscles tremble again, rolling twitches that run along the full length of the insides of his legs from calf through to thigh. the same trembles move up his spinal column, outwardly looking similar to a shiver, and he rocks his hips into hank's fist, into his thrusts, just enough that his arms have something of a tremble too. as hank keeps driving in at that angle connor's head drops, hanging loose in front of him, and from here he can see hank's hand tightly pumping his cock.
it's all a lot, and he buzzes again, and again, and again. )
[ connor's pleasure is unmistakable. he's buzzing, vibrating with sheer pleasure and delight, and while under normal circumstances hank is far too happy to encourage it, this time it's dangerous -- and he's squeezing his hip in warning, stilling to allow him time to collect himself, to keep it down. meanwhile the two have paused in their conversation, one of them asking the other if it's their phone.
no, the other says -- must be the guy in the stall there. hank freezes -- even if connor's braced himself nicely against the stall's frame, he doesn't trust that they won't be discovered, and he moves to still him, his dick buried balls deep in that sweet, tight, wonderful ass made just for fucking, and he gives his ear a warning nip.
easy, darling. they have to still be careful; this ain't a sex club. his other hand comes to rub at his lower belly, sliding up to pinch his nipples, drawing his attention to places other than his fine, fine ass.
( right around the point where the men comment on the occupied stall is when connor actually realises he's the topic of their conversation, technically – that it's not just an internal buzz but an audible sound. connor frowns, stilling with hand and clenching his fists against the stall as he tries to get himself under control.
it's just hard with a cock still deep inside of him, but hank seems to recognise that. when the hand comes up to his stomach connor looks like he sighs, except with no sound. his eyes just flutter closed briefly and he visibly sags, back looser and muscles relaxing as he pushes back against hank just a little.
he's trying really hard not to clench around him, honestly.
when hank pinches his nipple connor jerks just a little, but it's good, it's new sensations that aren't coming from his filled ass and the sensors alight in there. he wriggles his hips just a little, but he looks over his shoulder at hank, and winks. he actually winks.
meanwhile the tap is switched on as the conversation outside continues, and connor takes the opportunity to squeeze the synthetic approximation of muscles around his asshole and bounce just once on hank's cock, just a quick forward and backwards motion before he holds himself still again. )
-- oh, he did, that devil, that minx, that awful, terrible android and hank has no idea where he learned how to be so evil when he thrusts back against him just once, that delicious surge of warmth closing around him and pushing hank nearly past his limit. it's unbearable and wonderful, the way he fucks himself just the once, and he bites back a low moan because he can't, he can't and he swears that's connor's plan all along.
so he pinches his nipple a little harder in retaliation, sliding down to cup his dick and squeeze, jerking him off slowly so that the guys outside can't hear, and fucking hell he wants them gone already. and when the door finally shuts hank moves like a wild animal.
no warning, no pause, he goes hard and fast, pulling out completely before thrusting him, pinning connor against the door and practically pounding into him, wild and ferocious and full of pent-up lust that connor had so playfully been tweaking out of him. his own control slips, every thrust rough and thorough, designed to make his lover feel all of it, the stretch of his cock against his hole. he pants, low and soft, intent on wholly ruining him.
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hell, connor isn't even commenting on hank's drinking, which means that the other is truly, genuinely concerned -- going straight from greeting to comforting is a rare occurrence unless hank looks like shit. and he probably definitely looks like shit.
he snorts softly at that pep talk, smiling into his glass -- it's small and fleeting, but genuine, at least. ]
Like you did?
[ he says quietly, because hell yeah he remembers, and he was so proud of him for that, unfortunately, reed's made connor his new target, and is now pissing hank off accordingly with it. ]
Some bullshit about you.
[ hank grumbles after a moment's pause, when he'd weighed the consequences of telling him versus not; no point keeping it from connor, he's going to know about that sooner rather than later. ] Fucker found out I'm with you.
[ and hank hadn't denied it -- what for? to save face? fuck, hank's done far worse than connor. he gives him a sidelong glance, attempting to gauge his reaction. ] Had a field day coming up with disgusting shit, so now the whole office knows. And then Fowler just had to be an asshole with another thing.
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it makes a hell of a lot more sense that hank would react so strongly when the target of the insults was connor, not himself. hank has always fought much harder for connor's defence than he ever has his own.
hank stood at fowler's office door after the success of the revolution and yelled the list of reasons why he should hire connor back at the DPD until his voice went hoarse. hank rose to bite back at reed every day when he sidled his way past connor and hank's desks. hank insisted he be treated equally in the field, even when that meant arguing with stubborn forensic pathologist with strong anti-android views.
detective reed not only insulting connor but degrading him, and to all of their colleagues and coworkers ( not to mention connor's superiors ), it suddenly makes a lot more sense that hank is sitting in this bar. an ache swells in his chest and he wants to reach out to him again, so much that it feels like it will physically hurt him not to. )
I'll speak with Detective Reed. ( a civil conversation of course. in private, so that people won't know if it becomes...uncivil. ) Ignoring him obviously isn't working.
( he turns his head enough that he can see the booth at the wall behind them, and he checks that it is empty before his gaze returns to hank. he swivels in his stool, enough that his knees are lightly touching hank's thigh. it's nothing, they can barely call it contact, but it's all that connor is allowed under the circumstances.
they really need a change of venue. ) Until then....how can I help?
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The hell you are.
[ hank says sharply, finishing up his glass. he doesn't want connor anywhere near that fucking sleazeball, and his gaze is flinty as he looks back at connor. it's admirable, connor wanting to smooth things over, but sometimes people are bastard coated bastards with bastard fillings, and there's no use trying to reason with them. the less reed is exposed to connor, the better, because if it happens again, it's not connor that'll knock him out cold, it'll be hank himself, fuck the whole spiel about holding back.
but then he's sensing the brush of connor's knee against his own, something flickering in the back of his mind. connor doesn't do anything without reason, nor does he resort to idle touches -- no, there's a purpose and objective for everything he's doing, and he raises his brows at him, cottoning on.
this isn't a good place for them, right. ]
We can bounce. [ he says to him suddenly. ] Wait for me, I gotta piss.
[ because he knows full well connor won't obey, and he heads straight to the back to the bathroom. connor's asked him just what he can do to help, didn't he? hank's just thought of one. ]
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...and it takes all of two seconds for things to click into place.
he doesn't wait long before standing as well, following him into the bathroom. the anti android sentiments are still scratched into the walls and stalls of the bathroom, but connor honestly doesn't even register them when he walks in after hank. when the door swings shut, he's smiling again. this one is smaller, it's a secret smile. still sweet in a way, but more keen, interested, a smile just for hank.
there's stalls in the bathroom, all four doors open and unoccupied. connor levels his gaze at hank, an eyebrow raised but the smile still on his face. if he's judging, he's also into it. )
So this is going to help you forget the terrible day you've just had?
( he asks, leaning gently against the wall and watching hank. it's not the worst idea he's hand, honestly. )
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he's reaching out, tugging him by the tie into the second stall (it looks the cleanest out of the lot of them) and tries not to think about how so many of their trysts revolve around the bathroom. he likes that smile, he decides; he sees it rarely, but he knows it comes out when connor's genuinely pleased with him, so he lets that judgement go, you judgey little asshole.
he's pushes the stall door shut, cornering connor effortlessly up against him. the android might be able to beat him up six ways from sunday and then some, but it doesn't stop hank from enjoying the height difference he has on him. ]
Think so. Gotta try everything, right?
[ the answer, of course, is yes. his mood had lifted when he'd set eyes on connor, but he'd rather cut his own balls off before admitting that, so there you have it. he's cupping the back of his neck when he's leaning down to kiss him, his hand flat on the door beside his head, convenient covering anti-android sentiments carved onto the wood.
fucking an android in an anti-android bathroom, they're really going places. ]
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connor quickly pushes up to meet the kiss, immediately intense and more than a little needy. it's not hard to figure out why hank has pulled him in here – for sex, obviously, but more than that to clear his head, try and soothe over an evidently unpleasant day – so connor doesn't waste any time with slowly building the mood. it's already there, and even though this is about hank he would be lying if he tried to deny that the situation is definitely doing something for him. it's not just the thrill of being caught, it's the bar itself, the history it holds and the graffiti scrawled across the walls and etched into the door. connor honestly can't think of a better way to spite bigotry right now.
a hand slides up to the back of hank's head, fingers taking through his hair before gripping lightly. the other finds his waistband, tugging the hem of hank's shirt out of the way so that he can graze his fingers over the skin just above hank's belt, flattening his palm against hank's stomach and rubbing slowly. he works his fingers under the waistband, softly stroking lower until he's dragging his fingers through pubic hair, which is where connor stops. he keeps stroking, alternating between the slow run down and grazing his nails against the skin on the way up, but he doesn't move any lower. )
We'll have to be quiet. ( connor mumbles, after tightening his grip on hank's hair so that he can pull the man's head away just far enough for connor to whisper the words. they're still close enough that his lips brush hank's as he speaks, close enough that connor can quickly, lightly lap his tongue against hank's mouth. close enough that it takes hardly any movement at all to get hank's lower lip between his teeth and bite down hard enough to hurt, just a little.
he doesn't exactly see this being a gentle, loving sex session, after all. ) If anyone catches us, it won't end well.
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[ hank counters softly in between kisses, eyes darkened to almost black with unfettered lust. no, they don't need foreplay -- this bar is foreplay enough, this shitty place with its shitty, pointless hate, and hank is going to fuck his android right here just to piss on all of it.
he's looking at him now, really looking at him, a hand cupping connor's face. he's surprisingly tender for being such a grumpy fucker, but connor has done nothing wrong -- he hasn't even asked to exist, and yet here he is, beautiful and young and too damn good for him.
but hank can pretend he deserves to have him, even as he shivers, heart racing when those smooth fingers work their way down his pants to his pubes, his dick filling out the longer connor lingers, a pavlovian reaction to the proximity of those talented digits.
he grinds his hips up against his with a low groan, stifling it against connor's mouth as he ravages it again, the hot slide of tongue against tongue, letting connor sample the burn of whiskey in his mouth even as he savors the sting of connor's nip. god, but he loves it when connor is frisky. ]
You're so fucking beautiful.
[ he mutters, letting go of his face to fumble at connor's belt, the catch of his pants. he's tugging them open swiftly, reaching in to fondle him, to give his balls a good palming because he quite likes them. he's pushing those impeccably ironed pants down his hips, letting it fall to his shoes as he continues. ]
You wanna fuck in this place too, don't ya? Right here in this shithole that has no place to hate androids.
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( he snaps back quickly, but there's no actual bite to the words. it's hard to even feign annoyance when he just sounds impossibly fond so he doesn't bother with pretences. he'll bring it up later though, when hank's in a better space and connor isn't in a weird space of concern for hank and horny for him. because he absolutely doesn't mewl.
( he sort of does )
connor is smiling again, because he enjoys praise far more than he'll willingly admit but also far more because he's once again surprised by his ability to love hank even more than before. they're in this nasty little stall in a nastier bathroom, in a dive bar with anti android sentiments scrawled all around them. hank's had an awful day and they're going to fuck as nasty as the bathroom they're standing in until the day looks a little better. and hank, gloriously sweet and kind for all his gruffer tendencies, has taken a moment to tell connor he's beautiful.
but he can't very well smile like a sweet little fool when hank's getting his pants open and groping at him. or well, he could, but he'd rather just move his hand to hank's jaw and tip the man's head back so that he can access his throat. he sucks at a spot high enough that it will be visible even with a collar, a little curious to see if hank will stop him, and he rolls his crotch down against hank's hands. )
Yeah, I really do. ( he murmurs the words without fully removing his lips from hank's neck. his pants will wrinkle like this, but he doesn't move to take them off fully so that he can fold them. it doesn't suit the location to fold them neatly and set aside, and it certainly suits the location to keep them around his ankles. being partially clothed is almost as much of a thrill as fucking in a bathroom, anyway. ) So good it's almost impossible to keep quiet.
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he doesn't, because a place as nasty as this doesn't deserve that kind of soft talk, so he files it away and curses softly when connor tips his head back, mouth and teeth and tongue sucking what is obviously a lovebite above his collar. he gives him a half-hearted swat for his trouble -- ]
Hey, asshole, watch it --
[ -- but is all too pleased to let connor do as he likes. besides, he can just say it's an animal attack, and watch connor's reaction to that. yeah, that's what he's gonna do. horny as hell and not about to wait, he's pulling away only to coax him to turn around, to brace himself against the door of the stall. ]
Gonna make you pay for that. They're gonna see it.
[ not that hank cares, but you know, a guy's gotta pretend so he has an excuse to spank his pretty, imperious little android. his heart is racing, beating faster with anticipation, warm heat curling in the pool of his stomach; it's just unfortunate he won't get to see his face. ]
Shh, quiet now.
[ he tells him, and no sooner does he say it before the door swings open again, heavy, lumbering footsteps heading over to the urinal just paces away. hank freezes midway with his hand curling over connor's balls, every instinct on alert.
talk about shitty timing. ]
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( connor turns easily in hank's arms, cheek and upper body pressing flat against the door with his hands braced either side of himself. his head is turned enough like this that he can just about catch sight of hank behind him, and in turn hank can just about catch sight of the amused look on his face.
he won't deny that the thought of hank walking out with a bruise marking him at his throat makes connor viciously pleased – if connor thought the man would let him he'd waltz out of the bathroom with their hands clasped and held high in the air out of spite, to be sure that everyone knew exactly what they thought of anti-android sentiments, but hank's comfort is more important than connor's pettiness. especially now.
the swat doesn't hurt, not even a sting, and as he gives his hips a gentle roll into the palm of hank's hand connor is idly wondering if he can goad hank into really spanking him – and sure enough someone walks in. connor falls very still along with hank, but apparently he recovers faster than the man does, because even though the backing track of grunts and laboured breathing and an impossibly long piss stream isn't exactly very sexy, connor still drops a hand from the door and reaches back to grind his palm into hank's crotch through his pants.
and he moves his other hand off of the door just long enough to press a finger to his lips in a gesture to be quiet, definitely smirking now. )
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god, connor is a menace to everything around him.
he bites back a curse, fighting to be quiet when his imperious android lover just about does his darndest to make sure that hank makes some sort of sound. it's very sexy, the knife edge of danger. but hank has some shred of appearance to keep up, and as much as he's fine with being discovered fucking connor in a place like this, he knows there'll be a world of shit coming for them if they're discovered.
most importantly, he probably won't be welcome at jimmy's again and considering that this is his favorite watering hole, that particular consequence is catastrophic.
his mouth finds connor's throat now, sucking a similar lovebite because he's an asshole and because he wants to, going harder just so he can mar that flawless, synthetic skin, so smooth and so real under his attentions. he's unzipping himself when he hears the trucker moves and shuffle, rubbing into connor's hand and all but demanding that he draws him out, and quickly. ]
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it's really not going to be an easy task. connor already wants to encourage more from hank with soft, pleased noises. instead he settles for rubbing the heel of his hand into hank's crotch with a little more insistence. the bites won't remain on connor's skin like they do with hank, but when he sucks enough for the synthetic skin to bleed away connor stops the dermal layer from covering the marks over. the result is an effect almost comparable to a hickey, except they're white in contrast to the red-purple bruise already forming on hank's throat.
once hank's zip drops, connor doesn't waste any time. he hooks a thumb in the elastic of hank's boxers and shoves them down just enough to get his cock free from the material, and then he takes his hand away entirely. it's only for a moment though, long enough to grasp hank's wrist and move the man's hand away from his own crotch and place it on his ass. his hand grips over hank's, encouraging a firm grope of his asscheek before his attention returns to the neglected cock now hanging free. he quickly wraps his fingers around the base and he squeezes the shaft before starting to gently pump his fist, slow and teasing the whole time. )
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he notices that connor hadn't gone the easy way out and muted himself, realising that he actually likes the challenge, which makes him so hot in ways he can't begin to trace. he lets his young lover guide his hand off his dick, and hank gives his ass an appreciative knead and squeeze in return. god, but connor is made for sex, the way he's so supple and firm, made to be ravished and worshipped and not used.
he's spreading those cheeks with his hands now, kneading them and biting back a moan. they can't be heard like this, or they will be roundly fucked, and not in a good way. but there is something real hot about this, even as he lets go of one cheek to slide his fingers up, up, gently nudging between his lips and pushing two inside his mouth, coaxing him to lick, to suck like the obedient boy he is.
he's grinding his cock into connor's smooth hand, happy to quietly indulge as he hears the stranger zip up and the tap running. rolling his hips into his, he eyes the strange new hickey imprinted on his skin, fascinated. he makes another one over it, a little harder this time. ]
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his lips part immediately at the press of hank's fingers and he's very deliberate to keep his head craned, neck twisted so that he can just about look at hank while he takes the man's fingers into his mouth. he doesn't have saliva exactly, but thanks to the analysis features on his tongue he does produce a thin fluid designed to keep them lubricated and free from contamination. turns out it's actually pretty handy for more than just lubricating his tongue sensors.
connor quickly sucks his fingers in completely, tongue rolling up against the underside of them before he sucks, hard. his cheeks hollow a little and his eyes never leave hank as he pushes his tongue between the two fingers, coating them thoroughly. he matches the pace of his fist around hank's cock, slow glides in time with the bob of his head as he basically blows hank's fingers.
his focus breaks when hank sucks at his neck. connor's eyes drop closed and his lips close firmly around hank's fingers to muffle any sound he might make. thank god the tap is running, because even with connor's efforts he still might have given them away.
finally the heavy footsteps move towards the exit. the door swings open, closes again, and connor groans, jaw falling slack with the fingers still resting in his mouth. he pumps his fist a little faster, a little more insistent, pushing his ass back towards hank's hips. )
Hank, I can't wait, come on.
( bit strange that his voice is perfectly clear despite the fingers still in his mouth, but it's hardly the weirdest thing connor has done during sex. )
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still, he loves this moment when he gets to watch connor take his fingers inside him, and it makes his dick jump, immediately stiff in his trousers. it's too damn sexy, and he forgets what he's about to do for a moment, caught by the sight of it and knowing that he'll never, never forget. connor's mouth is hot and wet, and hank knows that it's on purpose. the cave of his mouth so human-like that he's teasing at his tongue now, brushing his fingers deftly over it while his lover sucks. he barely pays attention to the drunk trucker getting out of the bathroom, only alerted to it when connor groans, so low and so sweet that he swears he's going to come soon if he's not careful.
even worse, connor's jerking him off and grinding against him, and it's his turn to gently brush his hand away so he can grasp his dick himself, letting connor's go so he can line himself up, the buckle of his belt brushing against the small of connor's back before he's pushing the fat, thick head of his dick into that tight little hole, aware that it's wet and practically lubed up for him. he can't help a grunt, because fuck, it should be a sin for anyone to feel this good. ]
Shhh. And stop doing that.
[ he can hear voices outside. hank might not be fazed by just how his voice seems so clear despite the fingers in his mouth, but still. ]
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connor quickly brings both of his hands back up to brace against the wall, arching his back and angling his hips to try and give hank better access. there's a moment when his cock first presses against connor that he thinks there's no way he'll be able to stop himself from letting the whole bar know what's happening here when hank bottoms out. he's barely pushing in at all and connor is already breathing out through his nose hard again, short hard exhales to stop himself from moaning loudly again. )
I'm trying.
( his voice is still clear, but at least connor moves his mouth as though he needs it to speak this time. as he presses back against hank's cock he moves his hand off of the door, reaching for hank's hand and pushing a third finger in his mouth. because clearly that's going to help. )
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hank grunts when connor tries to take his third finger to his mouth, and he pulls out of his reluctantly, his fingers slick before he clamps his hand firmly over his mouth to more effectively shut that up, probably, but his connor has always had an annoying way of circumventing things like that.
even so, he keeps his hand firmly clamped around him -- it's not like connor strictly needs to breathe, anyway, although hank himself has to stifle a groan as he presses his face to his shoulder, sinking it right to the base, his balls pressing against those cheeks. he's fully, wholly inside his lover now, gripping connor tight as he shivers, fighting not to move too quickly. he needs to let connor adjust to his girth, his length, his hand letting go of connor's cock to rub up gently against his lower abdomen, as if through it he could feel the barest hint of his cock sheathed deep inside him. ]
god, look at you.
[ he murmurs, low and soft and ragged, before slowly, slowly pulling out. ]
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once hank pushes fully into him he lets out a soft whine, much quieter than the moan, and he's already pushing himself back against the man. hank is much more concerned with connor adjusting to the intrusion than connor is, and connor is quickly urging him to move with insistent rocks of his hips. )
Feels so good, Hank.
( connor moves his mouth under the hand again to make the voice projection a little less weird. once hank starts to pull out again connor has patience for all of a few seconds, and then he flattens his hands on the door and locks his arms in firmly, so that he can use the leverage to fuck himself back on hank's cock. )
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his own response is cut off, and he manages a deep thrust, and another before he stills, buried deep inside him. they have to be quiet, to take it slow, and he's gripping connor's hip (even though he knows he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell of stopping connor if the android sets his mind to something) to keep him slow, still, gently squeezing his jaw in silent warning.
they really have to be quiet, now, and hank rolls his hips to reward him, to try to take the edge off connor's fierce longing to be fucked. ]
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connor listens to the cheerful conversation between the two men, their brevity only delaying the amount of time they take to make it to the urinals and unzip. when hank rolls his hips slowly connor's jaw falls slack but he's still silent. his component buzzes slightly, a muffled sound deep in his throat that sounds more like a phone on silent than a voice box, but other than that he's quiet.
the hand at his hip stills him for a moment, but it's not long before he's very slowly rolling his hips back to meet hank's torturously slow thrusts. he's sure he'd be making a hell of a lot more noise if it weren't for the pseudo-gag he'd placed on himself, and instead he presses his cheek up against the wooden door and lifts up onto the balls of his feet, curving his hips upwards and pushing back against hank's cock.
he doesn't have a prostate in the traditional sense, but there's a number of different sensitive spots within him that can be stimulated by different angles. moving like this hits a new one, and without his voice online to express the sensation somehow connor just ends up with trembling thighs, synthetic muscles twitching rapidly every time hank slowly bottoms out. )
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but he can hear it in the other ways, that buzzing little component that hank knows the other two gents in the room won't notice, and he goes harder, shallow and rapid thrusts while they're pissing, certain that they won'e be picked up, not when they're boisterously laughing at the same time.
he's groping connor's cock, squeezing and fisting his dick, inviting him to thrust into it at the same time hank surges balls deep into him, reckless and fierce and full of need. those thighs tremble, synthetic muscles pulsing around him, and hank realizes just what connor might be feeling -- his body might not be a normal human's, but hank is intimate enough with it to know the silent giveaways, and so he pretty much keeps to that angle, fucking into him and rubbing up against this new, sensitive little spot. ]
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or more accurately, he doesn't really think about that too much. selfish little thing that he is.
now that hank is fucking him properly connor has to push off of the door to stop it from rattling against the hinges. he spreads his arms wide to brace against the stall itself instead, on the frame either side of the door, and his elbows lock into place. he can't really thrust back against hank when he's focusing on keeping himself upright and not revealing them with the shaking door, but hank's more than making up for it.
his muscles tremble again, rolling twitches that run along the full length of the insides of his legs from calf through to thigh. the same trembles move up his spinal column, outwardly looking similar to a shiver, and he rocks his hips into hank's fist, into his thrusts, just enough that his arms have something of a tremble too. as hank keeps driving in at that angle connor's head drops, hanging loose in front of him, and from here he can see hank's hand tightly pumping his cock.
it's all a lot, and he buzzes again, and again, and again. )
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no, the other says -- must be the guy in the stall there. hank freezes -- even if connor's braced himself nicely against the stall's frame, he doesn't trust that they won't be discovered, and he moves to still him, his dick buried balls deep in that sweet, tight, wonderful ass made just for fucking, and he gives his ear a warning nip.
easy, darling. they have to still be careful; this ain't a sex club. his other hand comes to rub at his lower belly, sliding up to pinch his nipples, drawing his attention to places other than his fine, fine ass.
c'mon, baby. be good for him and settle. ]
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it's just hard with a cock still deep inside of him, but hank seems to recognise that. when the hand comes up to his stomach connor looks like he sighs, except with no sound. his eyes just flutter closed briefly and he visibly sags, back looser and muscles relaxing as he pushes back against hank just a little.
he's trying really hard not to clench around him, honestly.
when hank pinches his nipple connor jerks just a little, but it's good, it's new sensations that aren't coming from his filled ass and the sensors alight in there. he wriggles his hips just a little, but he looks over his shoulder at hank, and winks. he actually winks.
meanwhile the tap is switched on as the conversation outside continues, and connor takes the opportunity to squeeze the synthetic approximation of muscles around his asshole and bounce just once on hank's cock, just a quick forward and backwards motion before he holds himself still again. )
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-- oh, he did, that devil, that minx, that awful, terrible android and hank has no idea where he learned how to be so evil when he thrusts back against him just once, that delicious surge of warmth closing around him and pushing hank nearly past his limit. it's unbearable and wonderful, the way he fucks himself just the once, and he bites back a low moan because he can't, he can't and he swears that's connor's plan all along.
so he pinches his nipple a little harder in retaliation, sliding down to cup his dick and squeeze, jerking him off slowly so that the guys outside can't hear, and fucking hell he wants them gone already. and when the door finally shuts hank moves like a wild animal.
no warning, no pause, he goes hard and fast, pulling out completely before thrusting him, pinning connor against the door and practically pounding into him, wild and ferocious and full of pent-up lust that connor had so playfully been tweaking out of him. his own control slips, every thrust rough and thorough, designed to make his lover feel all of it, the stretch of his cock against his hole. he pants, low and soft, intent on wholly ruining him.
really, he's got it coming. ]
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