( hank takes hold of his chin, tips his head, and connor opens his eyes – half-opens, really, he's still lazily stroking his erection and it's hard to do much more than that – but when hank kisses him connor stops touching himself long enough to help shove his pants back down.
and he's backing him to the bed, ordering him around, and heat immediately pools in his abdomen, his dick twitches and he complies without so much as a whisper of protest. he sheds his shirt, doesn't even bother to tease, and though he takes a moment to fold it before dropping it on the floor, the pants don't get any of the same care. he kicks his pants and underwear off his ankles, tossing them away quickly.
now he's fully naked, so hard he thinks it might start to hurt soon, and he levels his eyes at hank. he's not drunk any more, it's been enough time that he's just tipsy now and he doesn't sway as he looks at hank with a heady, lusty gaze that just screams desire. this has been the object of a number of fantasies he's had – ones he's been having since he met hank, if he's being honest. )
How do you want me? ( he asks, a slight smirk curving at his lips as his hand comes back to his cock, though he doesn't actually start stroking himself again, just gripping it now. ) Just– take me Hank, however you want. Ruin me, please.
( okay, maybe he's a little more than tipsy. or maybe hank is just able to get connor to ask for exactly what he wants. )
[ it's in this moment that hank knows there's no turning back. connor is looking back at him, clear-eyed and determined, and hank should probably feel guilty about fucking someone behind his boyfriend's back -- he's never really been that kind of guy until connor came along, with all his bad decisions and wearing his heart on his sleeve -- and he decides fuck it.
fuck it, because he's always wanted connor more than he's wanted anything else, and he shoves aside that pang of conscience before he shoves him to the bed, crawling in above him as he gives him a hungry, ravenous once-over. connor is beautiful, so beautiful tonight that his breath catches in his throat. the scant light from the windows illuminate his fair, fair skin, the smattering of moles and freckles only serving to make him more comely.
and then he's grasping his cock, and while hank knows alcohol tends to have the opposite effect on dicks, it's heartening to know that connor's already hard. he's leaning down to kiss him just to shut him up, his hand curling around connor's to join him, tightening briefly so that he can thrust into it. ]
Want you on your back. [ he tells him gruffly. ] You're looking at only me when I fuck you.
( this is going to destroy connor when he wakes up – because of what happened, because of the hangover, but mostly because he doesn't feel guilty. he's aware that he's doing something wrong, but he doesn't think about gavin at all as hank rushes him onto the bed flat on his back.
god, he wants him so badly. connor whines softly at the touch – just the hands on him, pushing him onto the bed, hank isn't even touching his erection yet and connor's already practically begging for him. no, not practically. he's begging. )
God, yes, okay. Only looking at you, yes. ( connor reaches up, a loud moan coming from low in his throat that connor tries to suppress and fails miserably. his hands find hank's face, he grabs hold of the man's cheeks, rubbing fingers through his beard as he rolls his hips into hank's touch. his movements are needy, demanding, desperate even. connor isn't exactly the most patient person in the world to begin with – when it's a rather demanding boner and the man of his dreams touching it, it's only natural he'll be a little impatient. )
Hank, fuck, I want you. ( connor rarely swears. that's quite an achievement. he huffs out slowly, tugs his hands a little on the beard hair, fights to keep his eyes open and on the man above him. ) I'll do anything, anything.
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and he's backing him to the bed, ordering him around, and heat immediately pools in his abdomen, his dick twitches and he complies without so much as a whisper of protest. he sheds his shirt, doesn't even bother to tease, and though he takes a moment to fold it before dropping it on the floor, the pants don't get any of the same care. he kicks his pants and underwear off his ankles, tossing them away quickly.
now he's fully naked, so hard he thinks it might start to hurt soon, and he levels his eyes at hank. he's not drunk any more, it's been enough time that he's just tipsy now and he doesn't sway as he looks at hank with a heady, lusty gaze that just screams desire. this has been the object of a number of fantasies he's had – ones he's been having since he met hank, if he's being honest. )
How do you want me? ( he asks, a slight smirk curving at his lips as his hand comes back to his cock, though he doesn't actually start stroking himself again, just gripping it now. ) Just– take me Hank, however you want. Ruin me, please.
( okay, maybe he's a little more than tipsy. or maybe hank is just able to get connor to ask for exactly what he wants. )
no subject
fuck it, because he's always wanted connor more than he's wanted anything else, and he shoves aside that pang of conscience before he shoves him to the bed, crawling in above him as he gives him a hungry, ravenous once-over. connor is beautiful, so beautiful tonight that his breath catches in his throat. the scant light from the windows illuminate his fair, fair skin, the smattering of moles and freckles only serving to make him more comely.
and then he's grasping his cock, and while hank knows alcohol tends to have the opposite effect on dicks, it's heartening to know that connor's already hard. he's leaning down to kiss him just to shut him up, his hand curling around connor's to join him, tightening briefly so that he can thrust into it. ]
Want you on your back. [ he tells him gruffly. ] You're looking at only me when I fuck you.
no subject
god, he wants him so badly. connor whines softly at the touch – just the hands on him, pushing him onto the bed, hank isn't even touching his erection yet and connor's already practically begging for him. no, not practically. he's begging. )
God, yes, okay. Only looking at you, yes. ( connor reaches up, a loud moan coming from low in his throat that connor tries to suppress and fails miserably. his hands find hank's face, he grabs hold of the man's cheeks, rubbing fingers through his beard as he rolls his hips into hank's touch. his movements are needy, demanding, desperate even. connor isn't exactly the most patient person in the world to begin with – when it's a rather demanding boner and the man of his dreams touching it, it's only natural he'll be a little impatient. )
Hank, fuck, I want you. ( connor rarely swears. that's quite an achievement. he huffs out slowly, tugs his hands a little on the beard hair, fights to keep his eyes open and on the man above him. ) I'll do anything, anything.