( connor has never killed a patient. he's lost some, and he still wears their names on his heart and thinks about them at night when he can't sleep, but he's never killed someone. it's never been his fault that someone has died. honestly, connor doesn't know how he would cope with that – certainly he needs to separate himself from death a lot better, or that might just ruin him.
it's another layer of guilt to weave into connor's twisting gut, but connor stops thinking about mr. hansen and his family the moment hank takes a hold of his chin.
he wants to kiss the older man, gazing back into hank's eyes and watching him just as intently. he thinks he could stare into hank's eyes forever, which he might have to, since the grip on his face is firm enough that connor can't lean in and close the gap.
connor's eyes flutter closed briefly as hank's hand moves up his shirt. he's still talking about gavin, and the guilt digs in sharply as connor's dick stirs as hank's fingers brush over the delicate lingerie under his scrubs shirt. )
I don't think about you when I'm with him. ( connor retorts, and it's supposed to be sharp and snappy, but it comes out in a breathy gasp that really just ruins the punch of his statement. besides, it's a lie. they both know it's a lie. ) Maybe I thought about how he'd take it off me. Did you consider that?
( connor can't take the high ground at all right now – not when he's gasping under hank's touch and already on his way to half-hard – but he's desperately trying all the same. )
[ hank tells him swiftly, not batting an eyelid. everything about connor tells him that he's lying, that he's only saying this for the sake of it. ]
I can see how much you want this.
[ he growls, leaning in to kiss his cheek, to rub his beard over his skin before he comes to capture his mouth, slow and resolute and heated. connor gets off on being bad, of coming apart every time hank touches him, and hank is more than willing to play. he inhales, breathing him in as he becomes the one to close the gap instead, drawing him into another kiss. ]
If you didn't, you wouldn't be staring at me when I walked by. You want me to peel it off you, don't you? You want me to come all over those pretty little panties of yours, tear it up and make it nice and wet.
[ he's smiling, and fuck, he's getting off on this, and his hand slides back down, pushing into his trousers to cup his cock, so full and so half-hard in his hand. ]
Look at you, such a needy little slut.
[ he teases softly, nipping at his lower lip as he admires just how good connor is for him, how they always come back to this, every time. ] You need my cock, not his. Does he still satisfy you...?
( this is different from their typical stolen moments. it's always got an edge to it, some kind of kink that connor warps into a justification for his actions. it's never deliberately tender, save for brief moments that slip through the cracks – but this is new. there's an element of humiliation, degradation. connor shouldn't be getting off to this, but then he shouldn't be getting off at all. and yet–
and yet he's still here. not only is he still stood in the corner that hank crowded him into, he's actively turned on by hank's words, cock twitching under hank's hand as he calls connor a needy little slut.
his head drops back against the wall and a breathless little moan escapes, one he's trying to keep stifled. it doesn't work, and connor grinds his hips shamelessly into hank's palm. ) You want me to talk about my boyfriend fucking me with your hand down my pants?
( he tries to smirk, but his little gasps and breathless moans make that hard, he can't get it together long enough to maintain any kind of front. he surges forward, wrapping a hand around the back of hank's neck and pulling him in close, licking the shell of his ear before biting at the lobe. a little harder than is usually pleasurable, hard enough to hurt. )
Do you want me to tell you all about how when he pushes my face into a pillow and fucks me into the mattress I think about your cock instead? ( connor presses the full length of his body against hank's, pushing off the wall entirely to press against him instead. he sucks lightly on his lobe, the same spot he'd bitten just before, and then whispers against his ear. ) Or when he pushes his fingers into my ass I remember how much thicker yours are, how you could probably make me come from that alone.
( connor slides a hand down to hank's pants, palms him gently over his pants, enough to see if he's reacting to connor's whispered confessions. enough to tease him into an erection too. ) Is that what you want me to tell you?
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it's another layer of guilt to weave into connor's twisting gut, but connor stops thinking about mr. hansen and his family the moment hank takes a hold of his chin.
he wants to kiss the older man, gazing back into hank's eyes and watching him just as intently. he thinks he could stare into hank's eyes forever, which he might have to, since the grip on his face is firm enough that connor can't lean in and close the gap.
connor's eyes flutter closed briefly as hank's hand moves up his shirt. he's still talking about gavin, and the guilt digs in sharply as connor's dick stirs as hank's fingers brush over the delicate lingerie under his scrubs shirt. )
I don't think about you when I'm with him. ( connor retorts, and it's supposed to be sharp and snappy, but it comes out in a breathy gasp that really just ruins the punch of his statement. besides, it's a lie. they both know it's a lie. ) Maybe I thought about how he'd take it off me. Did you consider that?
( connor can't take the high ground at all right now – not when he's gasping under hank's touch and already on his way to half-hard – but he's desperately trying all the same. )
no subject
[ hank tells him swiftly, not batting an eyelid. everything about connor tells him that he's lying, that he's only saying this for the sake of it. ]
I can see how much you want this.
[ he growls, leaning in to kiss his cheek, to rub his beard over his skin before he comes to capture his mouth, slow and resolute and heated. connor gets off on being bad, of coming apart every time hank touches him, and hank is more than willing to play. he inhales, breathing him in as he becomes the one to close the gap instead, drawing him into another kiss. ]
If you didn't, you wouldn't be staring at me when I walked by. You want me to peel it off you, don't you? You want me to come all over those pretty little panties of yours, tear it up and make it nice and wet.
[ he's smiling, and fuck, he's getting off on this, and his hand slides back down, pushing into his trousers to cup his cock, so full and so half-hard in his hand. ]
Look at you, such a needy little slut.
[ he teases softly, nipping at his lower lip as he admires just how good connor is for him, how they always come back to this, every time. ] You need my cock, not his. Does he still satisfy you...?
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and yet he's still here. not only is he still stood in the corner that hank crowded him into, he's actively turned on by hank's words, cock twitching under hank's hand as he calls connor a needy little slut.
his head drops back against the wall and a breathless little moan escapes, one he's trying to keep stifled. it doesn't work, and connor grinds his hips shamelessly into hank's palm. ) You want me to talk about my boyfriend fucking me with your hand down my pants?
( he tries to smirk, but his little gasps and breathless moans make that hard, he can't get it together long enough to maintain any kind of front. he surges forward, wrapping a hand around the back of hank's neck and pulling him in close, licking the shell of his ear before biting at the lobe. a little harder than is usually pleasurable, hard enough to hurt. )
Do you want me to tell you all about how when he pushes my face into a pillow and fucks me into the mattress I think about your cock instead? ( connor presses the full length of his body against hank's, pushing off the wall entirely to press against him instead. he sucks lightly on his lobe, the same spot he'd bitten just before, and then whispers against his ear. ) Or when he pushes his fingers into my ass I remember how much thicker yours are, how you could probably make me come from that alone.
( connor slides a hand down to hank's pants, palms him gently over his pants, enough to see if he's reacting to connor's whispered confessions. enough to tease him into an erection too. ) Is that what you want me to tell you?