( there's a point where connor realises just how much hank can see and he slows his actions, mouth dry, but then hank turns and connor.....is disappointed. no he isn't, he's not disappointed, he's just – he's relieved that he has the privacy to pull his jeans up without being watched. relieved. that's definitely what he's feeling right now.
it's getting really fucking hard to ignore this little massive stupid crush of his.
once his jeans are done up he gathers up his suit, bag and boots, and he settles them all on a stray chair nearest to the kitchen. when he's back he shakes the frying pan quickly a couple of times before leaning back against a counter, arms folding loosely over his chest as his attention returns to hank. )
I don't not drink. ( he shrugs, helpfully leaving out that whole part where he technically can't drink yet. his ID says otherwise, and he's not been denied goods or services with it yet. ) Why, you offering something?
[ he doesn't not drink -- and if there's anything that makes him pause it's that. it's really an indirect way of telling him he does, isn't it? ah, well. he chalks it up to connor being cheeky, and brings out a light beer for him. he's been cutting back, these days, so the light ones are often better for him.
he sets the beers on the counter, cold and pleasant, and pops one for himself, taking a long drink and leans against it, studying him. connor has on jeans, now, and he watches him, meeting his gaze. ]
I got a buddy, he's abstained for the past couple years. Said it was against his new girlfriend's religion.
( connor takes his own drink, opening it up after hank before settling back to his spot, hip resting against the counter and one arm half folded over his chest. he's not quite as seasoned a beer drinker as hank, his own mouthful is smaller and slower by comparison, but it's certainly not his first beer. not even his first light beer, either.
under hank's gaze he wants to move, check the burgers, start getting buns ready – anything really, because being the sole focus of hank's attention is intense in a way he really doesn't know how to define. hank just watches him, and connor does his best not to squirm under his eyes, not entirely convinced that the man can't see right through him.
hank's definitely the person connor has been the most honest with in this city by a long shot, but even that involves a fair amount of lying. and then of course there's that whole...'in denial about being super interested in hank' thing, but that hardly counts as a lie, right? )
Wow, that's weird. Was he a big drinker before? ( stranger things have happened than a person abstaining from something for the sake of love, but the concept still strikes connor as bizarre. he's not sure he could be so self-sacrificing, if the moment came to choose between something he loved and the person he loved. ) Not sure I could do it, honestly.
[ hank makes a small sound of amusement, because he would do anything to skirt the lust he's feeling for this young man in his kitchen, who manages to look even more comely in those tight jeans and god, he really must be a perverted fucker. he's focusing on the beer and definitely not on the curve of those lips, the little sips he takes.
he looks away now, looking for something, anything to do instead of being a creep because the last thing he wants to do is creep connor out and it'll all be over, whatever this is. after all, connor trusts him, right? he needs to prove himself worthy of that trust. so he pets sumo, who comes ambling up to him, as if sensing his master's inner distress. ]
Give up something that's such a huge part of my life, for someone else. ( he shrugs, sips the beer, tips his head back slightly as he swallows, licks his lips when he brings the bottle down.
he's not flirting. this isn't flirting, he's just drinking. this is how people drink beer, he's not changing his behaviour just because he's around a guy he might possibly have a huge crush on. and he doesn't have a crush, anyway. ) Like, I know it's a different level, but if someone asked me to quit racing for them– I wouldn't be able to do that.
( connor sets the beer down long enough to turn off the burner on the stove top, shaking the pan a little before moving it over to the cool side of the stove top. just casually focusing on the food to avoid all of– that. talking about relationship drama like he has any fucking clue, it's ridiculous. he's showing off for hank, there's no denying that – he desperately wants the man to think he's older, more experienced, more knowledgeable, all that bullshit.
but he doesn't have a crush. sure. ) Ready to eat?
[ this is totally not flirting, totally not, and hank is not sinfully, achingly attracted to him. except he is, and he observes the way connor puts on an act, like he's older than he is the way teenagers do, and he feels a throb of desire, a sharp want spike through him. connor is so very young, so very beautiful, and he watches how his adams apple bobs when he swallows the beer, the soft pink flash of his tongue.
god, he's fucked. hank forces himself to look away, to help out with the buns. he's taking them out from the package, sliding out the sliced cheese from the fridge and puts them on the bread, ready for the patties. he wonders if connor knows that by saying that, he'd pretty much just essentially marked his own age -- that's something someone young would say, and he only smiles, wry and small.
he's seen way too much, but he likes this anyway. ]
Never say never. One day, that might just happen.
[ connor might love someone more than racing -- and that's okay, too. ] Here, put 'em on. I'll have you know that those burger patties are made with my special recipe.
( it's all very in sync and harmonious, the way they get the food ready. it's got to be pushing four AM by now but connor doesn't care. he's spending time with hank, and that alone is worth the sleep deprivation. ...as a friend of course, the man works on his bike, tunes it to perfection, and connor is essentially putting his life in the older man's hands. if something goes wrong at the speeds he races at, even the best suits and helmets couldn't save him. connor is putting a phenomenal amount of trust in hank's work, and the man has never let him down.
also, he's really hungry now.
he smiles as they set it all up, hank prepping the buns and connor sliding the patties into place. he takes his plate and moves to the island counter, standing as he starts to wolf down the first burger. it stops him from responding for a while, more focused on devouring the food in front of him than anything else, but once he's a good two thirds into the first he starts to consider a response. and ever the eloquent one, connor just shrugs. )
Maybe, ( he says once he's finished burger number one. ) maybe I'd want someone that loved all of me. Not just the bits that they preferred.
( maybe that's too much to ask for, maybe his optimism shows his age, maybe he's not the one to talk about love when he's never even been in a real committed relationship before. but a guy can hope, right? )
Also, ( he's already starting on burger number two, and this time he's talking with his mouth half full, but he's still managing to grin as he speaks. ) these are fucking great. Seriously. What do you put in them? Or is it an Anderson secret?
[ oh, that is so sweet, and that is exactly what a teenager would say and hank feels like a filthy old man who should be too old for this, but here they are. connor tells him what he really would like to find in a person, and hank thinks that it's easy to love him for everything that he is.
his mouth is dry, just a little, and he's taking his own burger, thoughtfully chewing through it instead of wrecking it like a damn hurricane like what connor's doing. it's quite something, watching him, and he can't help but smile briefly. ]
A little salt, pepper, and some steak sauce. You have no idea how delicious that shit is when you put them together.
[ what's wrong with telling him, right? he's pleased that connor likes the patties -- maybe it means he'll come over more often, who knows? ]
Well, I'm sure you'll find that person. [ he says at length. ] It's not hard for someone to do that.
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no subject
it's getting really fucking hard to ignore this little
massivestupid crush of his.once his jeans are done up he gathers up his suit, bag and boots, and he settles them all on a stray chair nearest to the kitchen. when he's back he shakes the frying pan quickly a couple of times before leaning back against a counter, arms folding loosely over his chest as his attention returns to hank. )
I don't not drink. ( he shrugs, helpfully leaving out that whole part where he technically can't drink yet. his ID says otherwise, and he's not been denied goods or services with it yet. ) Why, you offering something?
no subject
he sets the beers on the counter, cold and pleasant, and pops one for himself, taking a long drink and leans against it, studying him. connor has on jeans, now, and he watches him, meeting his gaze. ]
I got a buddy, he's abstained for the past couple years. Said it was against his new girlfriend's religion.
no subject
under hank's gaze he wants to move, check the burgers, start getting buns ready – anything really, because being the sole focus of hank's attention is intense in a way he really doesn't know how to define. hank just watches him, and connor does his best not to squirm under his eyes, not entirely convinced that the man can't see right through him.
hank's definitely the person connor has been the most honest with in this city by a long shot, but even that involves a fair amount of lying. and then of course there's that whole...'in denial about being super interested in hank' thing, but that hardly counts as a lie, right? )
Wow, that's weird. Was he a big drinker before? ( stranger things have happened than a person abstaining from something for the sake of love, but the concept still strikes connor as bizarre. he's not sure he could be so self-sacrificing, if the moment came to choose between something he loved and the person he loved. ) Not sure I could do it, honestly.
no subject
[ hank makes a small sound of amusement, because he would do anything to skirt the lust he's feeling for this young man in his kitchen, who manages to look even more comely in those tight jeans and god, he really must be a perverted fucker. he's focusing on the beer and definitely not on the curve of those lips, the little sips he takes.
he looks away now, looking for something, anything to do instead of being a creep because the last thing he wants to do is creep connor out and it'll all be over, whatever this is. after all, connor trusts him, right? he needs to prove himself worthy of that trust. so he pets sumo, who comes ambling up to him, as if sensing his master's inner distress. ]
Could do what? Not have beer?
no subject
he's not flirting. this isn't flirting, he's just drinking. this is how people drink beer, he's not changing his behaviour just because he's around a guy he might possibly have a huge crush on. and he doesn't have a crush, anyway. ) Like, I know it's a different level, but if someone asked me to quit racing for them– I wouldn't be able to do that.
( connor sets the beer down long enough to turn off the burner on the stove top, shaking the pan a little before moving it over to the cool side of the stove top. just casually focusing on the food to avoid all of– that. talking about relationship drama like he has any fucking clue, it's ridiculous. he's showing off for hank, there's no denying that – he desperately wants the man to think he's older, more experienced, more knowledgeable, all that bullshit.
but he doesn't have a crush. sure. ) Ready to eat?
no subject
god, he's fucked. hank forces himself to look away, to help out with the buns. he's taking them out from the package, sliding out the sliced cheese from the fridge and puts them on the bread, ready for the patties. he wonders if connor knows that by saying that, he'd pretty much just essentially marked his own age -- that's something someone young would say, and he only smiles, wry and small.
he's seen way too much, but he likes this anyway. ]
Never say never. One day, that might just happen.
[ connor might love someone more than racing -- and that's okay, too. ] Here, put 'em on. I'll have you know that those burger patties are made with my special recipe.
no subject
also, he's really hungry now.
he smiles as they set it all up, hank prepping the buns and connor sliding the patties into place. he takes his plate and moves to the island counter, standing as he starts to wolf down the first burger. it stops him from responding for a while, more focused on devouring the food in front of him than anything else, but once he's a good two thirds into the first he starts to consider a response. and ever the eloquent one, connor just shrugs. )
Maybe, ( he says once he's finished burger number one. ) maybe I'd want someone that loved all of me. Not just the bits that they preferred.
( maybe that's too much to ask for, maybe his optimism shows his age, maybe he's not the one to talk about love when he's never even been in a real committed relationship before. but a guy can hope, right? )
Also, ( he's already starting on burger number two, and this time he's talking with his mouth half full, but he's still managing to grin as he speaks. ) these are fucking great. Seriously. What do you put in them? Or is it an Anderson secret?
no subject
his mouth is dry, just a little, and he's taking his own burger, thoughtfully chewing through it instead of wrecking it like a damn hurricane like what connor's doing. it's quite something, watching him, and he can't help but smile briefly. ]
A little salt, pepper, and some steak sauce. You have no idea how delicious that shit is when you put them together.
[ what's wrong with telling him, right? he's pleased that connor likes the patties -- maybe it means he'll come over more often, who knows? ]
Well, I'm sure you'll find that person. [ he says at length. ] It's not hard for someone to do that.
[ yeah, he's just going to leave that vague. ]