Connor's LED has already been popped off earlier in the night, replaced by a realistic looking scar he configured himself. Hank had said "dress up, do something different, make me a pretty thing to play with." So here Connor is, cigarette smoke still on his tongue and cold from the pouring rain, walking into the Eden Club. Reformed, different, a sultry club more than a now-illegal practice. He passes through the entryway, into the first room where he smiles appreciatively at the people on the poles. The lights feel heavy in a good way as he moves along, and he sees a gorgeous man across the neon blue tinted room.
Hank is an absolute sight with his hair drawn up, wearing a pastel harness criss-crossed over his chest, showing off the vast tattoo and latching up around his throat. Connor openly stares. Under the harness is a blue bralette, sheer, so everyone can see the piercings through his nipples. He may be wearing shorts but they leave little to the imagination, especially with more faux pastel leather squeezing around Hank's thighs.
He's lounging on a fancy couch and chatting with a few of the girls, looking very comfortable. His eyes immediately catch Connor’s as he walks in. Connor feels glued to the spot as such a pretty android leaves the couch to walk his way, pink LED at his temple spinning slow and lazy. His skin shimmers like the other androids’ do but it's the hairy chest and belly that wants him to reach out and touch.
“Lookin’ for a little love, sweetness?” Hank asks and Connor just nods dumbly. “You like what you see?”
“Gorgeous.” Connor breathes.
“You wanna get us a room, stud?”
Connor steps forward with another little nod. Hank takes his hand with an indulgent smile and leads him towards a room, letting Connor unlock the door. They walk in and Hank pauses to let himself be inspected. “I go by Hank. I like sweet-talk though. Would love to call you something sweet, Mr…?”
“Anderson.” Connor is buzzing looking him over, excitement weaving through his body. “Connor. Or, anything sweet you've got.”
Hank looks so pleased. “Oh, honey. I'm in for it now, aren't I? What do you need?”
“What model are you?” Connor asks, hand gently sliding up Hank's chest. The sheer, tinted fabric of the bralette is so soft. His skin is softer.
“Advanced.” Hank grins, rolling his shoulders. “I'm worth a fortune.”
“Yes, you are.” Connor praises, fingers curling around a strap in the harness, “What's this about?”
“In case people wanna handle me roughly.” Hank levels him with a mischievous smirk.
Connor tightens his hand and tugs on Hank's harness. The android wavers forward, dipping his head down to nose at Connor's cheek with a low hum. Connor's so starved for touch, his eyes flutter and he leans into the contact. "Oh, you're…"
"All yours, big guy." Hank brushes his beard over Connor's cheekbone, lips just shy of brushing the skin. "Anything specific you want from me tonight?"
"I'd like many things from you." He breathes, tilting his head up.
"You have to give me permission to touch you, Mr. Anderson." Hank whispers, head turning, breath ghosting over his lips.
"Please, touch me. Any way you want." Connor shivers, holding the harness tighter, "Give me everything."
"Everything? Oh baby, I'll take you apart." He gently kisses Connor's bottom lip, pulling back when his lover gasps and surges up for more. "You haven't been touched in a long time, have you?"
Connor's face flushes a soft red, voice a quiet and yearning thing when he says, "No. Please… I want…"
Hank captures his mouth in a heavy, slow kiss. The kind Connor fumbles with but gathers the motion and feeling of quick. He returns it all with a humming enthusiasm that has Hank shivering along his spine, with the taste of Connor in his mouth. It's a good kiss, especially for someone so eager.
A trembling, desperate noise falls over Hank's tongue when his hand settles warm on the back of Connor's neck. He holds there steady, firm, squeezing to keep Connor in place as he pulls back, "Touch starved is always my favorite. The ones that just… Mm." he applies pressure with his thumb against a tight muscle in Connor's neck, rubbing slow circles. Connor moans unbidden, head falling forward onto Hank's chest, "The ones that just melt in my hands. Are you going to melt for me, Mr. Anderson? What do you want?"
Connor's knees shake, Hank's other hand gliding along his back. "I want to be good for someone. I want to make you feel good."
"Little ol’ me?" He drags his fingers up through the hair on the back of Connor's head and his lover almost crumbles in his arms. The hot, thrilling swoop that runs through Hank's body is incredible. "Jesus, how sensitive are you?"
Connor shifts from foot to foot, the burn of his blush only getting heavier, "On a scale? Maybe… 97%."
Hank almost breaks. His breath catches in his throat and he beats down the overflow of excitement. He takes his hands off Connor's skin to push at his leather jacket, smelling like smoke and sweat and still wet from the rain. Connor looks up at him, such dark brown eyes, and they catch on his LED. "Your light's going faster."
"Mm sweet thing, it sure is." He gives a smile, letting Connor's jacket drop at his feet. Connor’s fingers seek out the little ring and trace around it, seemingly fascinated. Hank turns his head to kiss his wrist, "It means I like you."
"Me?" Connor moves a stray strand of hair from Hank's face, but the wisp comes back as soon as he shifts.
"Yeah, you. Never seen such a pretty thing as you walk in here… eyes like they're only for me." Most of the front and collar of Connor's henley is soaked from the downpour outside, and Hank wants to make him warm.
"Did it excite any of those delicate sensors I hear so much about?" Connor’s fingers scrape gently along his beard, lips forever parted like he’s waiting to be kissed. Hank thumbs over them and Connor’s eyes flutter.
“I was all lit up the moment you came in." He pushes his thumb past Connor's lips, reveling in the stifled gasp he gets for it. Connor's mouth closes around him and sucks, little noises leaving him whenever Hank so much as twitches. "If I say I wanna see you undress, will you do it?"
"Please, sweetheart. Take it all off for me." He purrs, slipping his wet thumb over Connor's very pink lips. Connor pulls away so slow, reluctant to be without touch. He tugs his shirt over his head like it's personally offended him and Hank feels the words in his throat already, "Slower. Look at me when you do it."
Connor locks him with such an intense look. It's all want and puts him like putty in Hank's hands. Just where Connor wants to be. He keeps his eyes focused solely on Hank while he trails his hands down his stomach, slowly unlatching his belt. Hank takes in his fill of this wanting, eager man; the soft hair on his chest and the notable scar raised along his skin, from collarbone to the hollow of his throat. The tinted lights of the room bathe his skin in a pale purple, Hank can see every freckle in the vibrancy, every place he'd like to touch. Connor has a tattoo along his ribs that spreads outward, lines that connect a collection of freckles like a constellation. It's minimalist and elegantly done. It's a path Hank would enjoy following with his mouth.
Connor manages to look a little cocky as he unzips, kicks his shoes off, "How slow?"
Hank can’t help himself when he steps forward to kiss him. Pressing their mouths together in a breathless slide, his hand drags along the outline of Connor's cock. Connor cries out against his lips, wrapping his arms around him frantically. His fingers catch on the back of the harness and he holds on tight. Hank keeps one arm firm around Connor's back and runs his palm over him again and again, tongue dipping into his slack mouth. "You hold right on, baby. I was made sturdy."
Connor's knees are weak, Hank's hand is so big and his touch is the only thing he can think about. He moans wantonly as tingling, hot pleasure spreads through his body. He clings to Hank and kisses him with all he has. Hank is so big, it’s easy to fall into his embrace, to be held by him.
"You're so tense, sweet thing." Hank sucks on his lower lip, humming thoughtfully. "How you'd feel about an old bot giving you a massage?"
Connor shudders and lets Hank take him over to the bed, steadying him in front of it as he takes his hands off. Connor hangs there for a moment, his own hands holding tight, their breaths mingling. Hank presses the ghost of kisses on and around his mouth, patient as ever for him. Hank can just hold his weight up with no issue. He aches. He finally gets his legs to hold him again, taking a deep breath while he reaches for his pants.
Hank takes his hips and turns him to face the bed. "Lay down on your belly, spread out for me."
He can see the shiver run down Connor's spine. He steps away to get some lotion, watching Connor take down his jeans and boxer-briefs, the wonderful curve of his ass as he struggles out of his socks and pooled clothes. The way his back arches as he slides onto the bed is graceful, the way he lays with his arms up and his long legs stretched out is like a tragically beautiful period painting. He looks back at Hank, red lips and soft skin. "Like this?" he asks, drawing a leg up and adjusting his hips.
"Just like that." Hank whispers, feeling his heart pound like the muffled music outside their room. He tosses the lotion on the bed by Connor's thigh and rubs himself through his shorts, "Would you care if I took these off?"
"Please." Connor lifts onto his elbow to watch.
Hank rumbles with a small laugh, undoing his shorts. They've been holding him a little tight now so he eagerly pushes them down and works them off his thighs, briefs coming away wet. Connor makes a ragged noise and drops back down against the pillows again. Hank laughs louder now, crawling onto the bed to straddle Connor's thigh, "You alright, hot stuff?"
"Come on me." Connor whines, going red immediately after and hiding his face.
He groans appreciatively, getting some lotion in his hands and sweeping up Connor's back. He likes the way Connor shivers and squirms under him, "That what you want? I can give that to you. What else do you want, honey? Don't be shy."
Connor takes deep breaths and Hank lets him take his time to speak. He spreads the lotion over Connor's skin, starting to knead the muscles while Connor moans. He thinks about how this guy really can't sit still, follows the shift of his shoulder blades with his hands. Thinks how perfect his skin is even when he finds the scar of a grazed bullet on his bicep. He digs his fingers into the tense muscles in Connor's neck, hearing a choked groan and muffled, breathy words.
He squeezes Connor's neck, "Try again, Mr. Anderson."
Connor's hips shift against the sheets and he raises his head, panting, "I want to fuck you."
Hank shivers, the sentence gathering low in his gut. He drags his hands down Connor's back, massaging in earnest, "Oh, I've been waiting for you to say so."
He watches Connor's hands grip the edge of the mattress above his head. "Hank… please.”
“Keep asking, makes me all wet for you.” He murmurs, spreading his hands down Connor’s flanks. His cock nudges the back of Connor’s thigh as he shifts down, grabbing two handfuls of such a supple little ass. Connor almost sobs, arching up against his palms. He kneads the muscles there too, chuckling softly when he has to pin his riled-up lover down. He slides his thumb between those cheeks, rubbing against Connor’s hole.
Connor chokes, writhing against the soft sheets, “Fuck— please, fuck…”
Hank presses down until he feels the give of muscle, the pad of his thumb starting to press in. Just for fun. Connor makes such a beautifully broken noise. “Oh, baby…” he croons, pulling his hands back as they drag along Connor’s tense thighs. He decides to take a little pity on him, grabbing for his hips, “Let’s turn you over, come on.”
Connor groans and lets Hank help him roll over onto his back. He’s flushed pink along his cheeks and down his torso, chest heaving with labored breaths. The line of his body is gorgeous as Hank follows it down with his eyes, but his own breath catches in his throat at the delicate curve of Connor’s cock. It’s red and wet, leaking precome all over his belly and hip. What really stops Hank in his tracks is the jewelry pierced through the head of his cock. It’s a pretty iridescent metal with a blue shift, and Hank feels his arousal burn heavy in the cradle of his hips.
“Do you like me?” Connor asks, breathy and eager, hips shifting up like he’s begging to be touched. “Is this good?”
He caresses over Connor’s calves, just enough to be brushing along the hair. “I do… God, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Connor preens, sighing as Hank’s hands draw up along his thighs. He twists, trying to get Hank to touch his cock, “Is it big enough for you?”
Hank finds himself blushing. It’s a cute ask, Connor really wants to be good for him. It’s on the smaller side, circumsized, a good average thickness. Connor’s balls look heavy, full, and Hank’s going to have such a good time on this pretty cock. Especially with that piercing. He tucks his thumbs into the crease of Connor’s thighs, hands framing his cock. Connor gasps and arches. “Honeybee, I think it’s gonna be my new favorite.”
Connor squeezes his eyes shut and groans. He rests his cheek against the pillows and presses up against Hank’s hands for attention. Hank grins, running his hands up over Connor’s hips, over his sensitive belly. He grabs at the meat of Connor’s chest, it slips under his slick hands and has Connor gasping. His whole body is like a livewire, all so reactive to touch. Hank kneads at his shoulders, over his biceps. His fingers circle Connor's throat just to see the reaction, and Connor's desperate whimper fuels his satisfaction as he trails back around to his chest. Connor shakes under him, drops of precome gathering against his jumping stomach. He does start to get quiet, less moans and more low huffing breaths, little whispers of “Hank, Hank…”
Hank thumbs over the hard peaks of both nipples and Connor tenses up, thighs pressing around Hank’s as his cock jerks and spurts over his belly, into the dip of his hip bone. He moans long and low, rocking into it while his neck cranes elegant and straining against the pillows. His noises are hushed, turning almost embarrassed as he comes down from his high. Hank watches, amazed and hungry.
Connor's face burns as he relaxes against the bed, looking at Hank with big eyes. "I'm sorry, I… it was so good, I tried not to, I—"
Hank isn't really listening. His eyes are trailing down to the mess on Connor's still-tensing belly, and he swipes two fingers through it before bringing them between his lips. Connor shuts up so fast it must hurt his throat, how quickly that apology dies.
Hank hums, sliding his fingertips over his tongue before sucking them clean. "Mm… that’s definitely interesting."
Connor's moan is soft, overwhelmed. He reaches for Hank, for the warmth of his body, "You liked that I…?"
"Making someone feel good gets me off, Mr. Anderson." He pushes further between Connor's thighs, pressing forward to let their cocks brush, "You finish early, you go again, and again, because I got you all night. And I want that cute little cock spent when you leave here."
Connor groans shakily, his eyes rolling back. His voice is feather-light, high in the clouds, “Oh god… Yes, sir.”
Hank chuckles, dipping to kiss the soft skin on Connor’s neck. He mouths over a patch of freckles, tongues the scar at the hollow of his throat. “So pretty when you say yes.” Connor gives a soft sigh and he drags his fingers through more come, pressing them up into Connor’s open mouth. Connor eagerly closes his lips around those fingers, a muffled moan loud as he sucks them clean. Hank hums low in his throat, taking in the view of such a sweet mouth. “Mm, what do you want next, baby? More massage? You want my mouth on you?”
Connor pulls off his fingers with a little gasp, “Please sit on my face.”
“Well, that’s something not even I could resist… especially when it’s said like that.” He leans up to brush their lips, moving aside to crawl up to Connor’s head. He runs his fingers through those soft brown locks, looking down at him, “You want it like this? You sure?”
“Yes.” He pushes the pillow away, adjusting his head against the mattress. His damp hair is drying into wild curls, he looks like a dream and sounds like it, too. “It’s yours to use.”
Hank shivers, his cock pulsing heavy and wet. He straddles Connor's head, stifling a laugh at how eagerly his lover guides him above his face. "That's my line, sweet thing."
"Let me be good for you." Connor's big doe eyes peer up at him, the ghost of his breath over his inner thighs.
"Fuck. You're already good, baby." He strokes his thumb over the wrinkles on Connor's forehead, feeling hands wrap around his thighs, weave around the leather straps. Connor doesn't wait for him to come down, he presses up and trails his tongue over Hank's cock, one slow move like he's testing Hank's restraint.
He doesn't have much. He holds there maybe a second before rocking down against Connor's face, a low groan falling from his mouth. Connor answers it back with one of his own, burying his face between Hank's thighs to drag his lips over his dick. It's wet and a little messy, the way Connor moans and gives him friction, sloppy kisses and tentative little sucks. Hank thinks Connor might come again with how he makes noise, feeling Hank's cock throb against his soft lips. He rolls his hips, making an encouraging sound. "Take it all. Make me feel good."
Connor's hips twist against the bed and he opens his mouth, letting Hank push those few inches past his lips, the heavenly feeling of Connor's hot mouth all around him. He stutters out a groan, tingling from thighs to ass and up his spine. He can feel himself dripping on Connor's chin and he grinds against him, taking that pleasure Connor wants him oh so eagerly to have.
Connor is almost lost with Hank's pleasure. He moans like he's the one being sucked off, stuttering breaths through his nose, his eyes can't stay open for too long. But when they are, they're looking up at Hank with some kind of reverence. Hank thinks those dark eyes could do him in. He strokes back Connor's hair, keeping it from the sweat gathering at his temples and groans, "Make it a little tighter for me."
He gets a soft warbling moan in response, then more suction around his cock as Connor gently bobs his head. He rumbles out praise and Connor's eyes flutter with it, his knees draw up and brush Hank's lower back. "You gettin' excited again, sweet thing? You gonna come?"
Connor whines against him, opening his mouth wide to drag his tongue from Hank's slick hole back up to his dick. Hank gasps raggedly, thighs flexing with a sharp flash of pleasure as he pulls up from Connor's face, "—Oh fuck. Oh fuck, baby."
"Come back." Connor croaks, tugging on the straps. He licks his shiny lips, swallowing with the taste of Hank on his tongue. Hank's hand tightens on his hair to drag him back in and he whimpers. He feels restless, so much energy, pent up arousal he only wants to expend on Hank. He starts wiggling more and more, working himself down the bed. Hank lets his hair go, letting him freely move. He pops off Hank's cock and tongues over his hole, listening to his lover's sounds grow louder.
He drags his hands over Hank's ass, squeezing those soft cheeks. His fingers skim between them and catch on the plug set flush against his body. He tips his head back and moans, arching up to lap at Hank's dick while he takes hold of the plug. "God, Hank…"
"Go on. I've been waiting for you." Hank braces his hands on the bed when Connor works the plug out of him, teasingly fucking him with it a handful of times. He lets out a low growl when it slides free, leaving him slick and empty. Connor dips into his ass with the tip of a finger while his tongue flirts inside of him, just barely skimming and Hank grunts, "I want to pin your head down when you tease like that."
Connor makes an almost distressed noise under him and Hank's almost worried, until Connor grits out, "I'm gonna come again."
"Really, now? You got a kink for that, baby? We know you like praise. A little firmness never hurt anybody." Hank tries egging him on, grinding his hips down so Connor's head gently meets the bed again. He pulls up right after and gets to hear Connor's strangled moan clearly.
Connor slips out from under him. Hank's about to ask where he's going, but his open mouth only stutters a moan while Connor spreads his cheeks and licks into his ass. His blood pounds in his ears and he tries to work through the pleasure instead of giving in. Connor's satisfaction first, that's what he needs to take care of. But when Connor's hand slips down to stroke his dick, a little breathless murmur of "Please, Hank…"
Well. He folds himself on the bed with Connor's guidance, ass up and head down, and lets pleasure steep in everything that comes out of his mouth. Every groan and grunt of encouragement spurs Connor on, every bit of praise and mention that Connor's working his systems overtime has him shuddering wrecked noises against his skin.
"Is it a voice kink? You like some deep voice telling you all the good things you wanna hear, like it's getting them off to tell you?" Hank pants, hips twitching and trying not to grind down. He drools onto the sheets, feeling an orgasm drawing up under Connor's hands and mouth. As soon as he's breathing in to tell Connor to approve the action, Connor stops and leaves him aching, ass clenching for that sinful damn tongue that's left him. He huffs against the mattress, shifting his weight. "Fucking…"
Connor's hands caress his hips, then down along the curve of his back. His palms are rough and sweaty, his cock nudges the back of Hank's thigh. "Yes, it is." he says, voice strained. He leaks precome against Hank's skin. "Look at the mirrors, Hank."
Hank turns his head dutifully, to the four lengthy mirrors attached to one wall of the room. He sees himself bent on the bed, flushed and panting. Connor behind him, eyes burning over the shapes of them as he reaches to fondle Hank's cock. His LED strobes wildly, pleasure sweeping through him as an orgasm builds up again. "Shit… I-I can't unless you say so… Connor, I can't. Not yet."
Connor's thumb pauses right at the tip, white-hot and dangling Hank above the edge. "You're not kidding, are you?"
Hank growls, fisting one hand in the sheets, "No. It takes you saying it. It takes you telling me to come."
Connor pulls back and wraps his hand around his dick a second too late, coming over his own thighs with a wounded noise. He drops his head onto Hank's lower back, sobbing softly as his hips hitch against air. He takes a moment to collect himself while he runs his fingers over Hank’s neck and up into his hair.
"Good boy." Hank coos, feeling himself throb for Connor. "That's so fucking good… Don't stop yourself. Can you go again? Touch yourself."
"Too sensitive." Connor shivers, giving himself a tender stroke anyway. He sighs and pulls himself up, leaving kisses along Hank’s back. He rolls him over and collapses against his chest, Hank's arms circling him.
"So sensitive." Hank rumbles indulgently, big hand drawing up and down his back. He lets Connor relax before dragging his nails over his skin on the way back up. Connor gasps sharply, hips grinding against Hank's. They both moan, Hank can feel slick starting to leak from his ass. They're both wet messes. "Can you be good for me?"
His lover nods, pressing his face into his chest. His tongue comes out to wet the fabric over Hank's nipple, flicking the piercing. Hank's breath catches, "Get your fingers in me… Androids don't need to be stretched… but I want to feel you do it."
Connor softly rubs his cock against the crease of his thigh, "I need lube."
"I'm ready for you." He promises, feeling Connor's unsure fingers at his ass again. One slender finger prods gently and then slides in, and Connor makes an almost surprised noise against his chest. Hank hums, shifting his hips with want. "I'm an advanced model, Mr. Anderson… I've got a few features."
"Hank." Connor whispers, close to breaking, pressing his finger all the way in.
Hank props one leg up and angles himself for the best feeling, sighing at the goosebumps tingling over his thighs, “Yeah. Give an old bot a little love. Fuck, your fingers are long… Connor?" he pauses, gathering attention. Connor looks at him with an awed expression, face so red. "You're doing such a good job."
Connor huffs and looks away, everything about him flustered beyond measure. He slips a second finger into him, his soft cock giving an interested twitch at the sound of Hank's shaky 'ah!'. He keeps them there, lets Hank get comfortable with them and maybe a little beyond that, just to see him rock down for them. Then he gives in, as if he could stay still long with Hank laying here. He rubs Hank’s thigh to soothe the little tremors, fingering him slow, sighing at the give of his body. “I didn’t know androids ran so hot…” he says, marveling. Hank smiles indulgently. “Or were so soft inside.”
Hank groans, stretching his arms up to pull a heart-shaped pillow under his head. He blushes and preens, “Oh, I see you like a little sweet talk yourself… Am I your first?”
Connor’s eyes sparkle, even as he looks away. He follows the line of his hand up Hank’s thigh, “Yeah…”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Hank lets out a low moan, feeling Connor’s fingers rub against his walls, “Fuck, kiss me.”
Connor all too eagerly stretches up his body, kissing him messy and Hank shakes with the passion Connor gives him so readily. He tastes himself in his mouth and draws his hands up Connor’s arms, feeling the strain of muscle as Connor crooks his fingers, goes a little faster. The quiet wet noise starting to become truly audible from it makes Hank clench down and huff into his lover’s mouth. Connor groans and flicks his tongue against Hank’s, a shiver running down his spine. “You’re the first person in so long that’s touched me…”
His hips start to rock gently against Hank, his hand drawing up his thigh to grasp at the softness of his belly. Hank feels some kind of ache for this man, feels his body want to draw up and please him. A third finger joins, stretching him so nicely and Hank gasps, “Connor… you ever been in love?”
He presses kisses against Hank’s slack, panting mouth. It comes against his lips like a devotion, murmured so tender, “Once.”
Hank takes his face between his hands, rubbing the velvet coarseness of five o’clock shadow against his thumbs. The softness of his eyes makes Hank want to eat him up. Connor’s fingers search out his dick again and he shifts his leg around Connor’s hip, “Make love to me like you would’ve with him.”
Connor shudders, dropping his forehead against Hank’s as his eyes squeeze shut. Goosebumps prickle over his skin and Hank holds the back of his neck, moaning in their shared air while he slides his fingers out of him. He doesn’t speak, just urgently takes Hank’s hips and draws him into his lap, prepping his cock with Hank’s slick. They both take him in hand to guide him, the brush of that piercing startlingly cool against Hank’s sensitive skin. He looks up at Connor, eager and more breath than words, “Go on, baby. I want it, I want you… Please…"
"Hank…" Connor whispers, pressing in slow and heavy. He hisses softly through his teeth at the spike of pleasure. “Tell me you love me like he would.”
Hank gasps raggedly, letting Connor push one leg up and cradle the back of his knee in the crook of his elbow. He wants the words to be right, Connor deserves this. He twists his fingers in the grown out back of Connor’s hair and meets his eyes, voice a deep mess not by design but by desire, “I love you. I love you, the only one for me… Everything to me. My heart…”
Connor’s breath stutters. He catches Hank in one of the slowest, softly filthy kisses he’s ever had. He even looks into Hank’s eyes until they flutter closed with pleasure, his hips pressing flush against Hank’s. The moments they rest together, moving only with mouths and hands, Connor makes every movement count. He caresses Hank’s bare skin, his belly and thighs, skirts his fingers over Hank’s chest. He plays with his piercings, curious fingertips, and sucks on his bottom lip, dips his tongue in when Hank gasps. He holds the side of Hank’s face and looks at him with something tender in a way clients don’t. Hank kisses him like lovers do, reaching down to grasp Connor’s hips and rub over what skin he can reach. Connor drops down onto his elbow and rests against him in full— finally, chest and belly along with hips. The contact feels so good and he rocks against Connor’s warm body to tell him he needs more.
The noise sighed against the corner of his mouth resonates deep as Connor shifts himself back and forward again. They both grunt and arch against each other, Connor tries to go slow and steady. Hank breathes deep beside Connor's cheek, letting himself be taken for gentle kisses whenever they're wanted. The rhythmic drag of Connor's cock inside him highlights how full he's always going to be, how well Connor can keep himself under control even if he's sweating and panting to do so.
When he's had enough of playing with Connor's restraint, he grabs for both ass cheeks and tugs him in deeper. His words mix with a groan but he doesn't think his lover minds, "You've been doing so good… showing me all your control, to make me feel good… Come on, let me see you take it."
Connor moans and rolls his body, working against Hank's hands like he wants to show him how much better he can be. It works his cock into Hank roughly and his pubic bone rubs against Hank's dick so well. He tosses his head back with a sharp groan, pressing up for more, "Fuck, honey. Like that, like that…"
"Hank, please—" Connor shivers, gripping the bed sheets and starting to fuck into him desperately. He wants nothing more than to rail Hank into this bed and make him feel good even as he has to brace against the headboard from it.
Hank pants heavily, digging his fingers into Connor's ass and guiding him, loving the way he twists and bucks. It rubs him in all the right ways, surprises him when he thinks it's about to get repetitive, that piercing brushing past heavy and rigid. It all makes his thighs shake; that building, hot pleasure swooping through his gut again and again. Connor’s head drops onto his shoulder, the low whimpers of his name beginning again, like it's the only word he wants to know. He draws one hand up Connor's back and into his hair, tightening his legs around that little waist. "I'm right here. You can, you can… It's alright. Come on, sweet thing. Make some noise for me."
Connor makes a ragged, deep noise and tucks his face into the crook of Hank's neck. He shifts only to heft Hank's leg over his shoulder and grip at the straps for leverage. Hank takes his body weight with a surprised but pleased yelp, and Connor's now free hand slips between them. Hank gasps, one hand flying to the headboard to push himself down against Connor's everything. "Holy shit."
"Can I? Hank, Hank…" Connor doesn't slow, and his voice wavers. He presses sloppy kisses to Hank's neck, his fingers sliding along his dick down to his hole.
"God… Yeah! Yeah—" He sucks in air so greedily, bent in half for this pretty little thing giving him the best ride he's had all month. Two of Connor's long fingers sink into him and immediately go for his sweet spot, leaving him wailing at three points of stimulation. He swears he hears Connor's amazed huff at his volume.
His orgasm approaches quickly, with all the attention and Connor sounding like he's been on the edge for minutes now. His stomach jumps with it and he's making the invigorating mistake of lifting his head to look down at them, the way their bodies move and how they cling to each other. It comes on like a wave, his body buzzing high. "Connor—" he chokes out, "God, please. You gotta—"
"I want you to come, Hank." Connor pants into his ear, "I'm telling you to. It's all I want. It's all I want."
Connor's thumb brushes the tip of his dick and he's gone, some broken sound falling from his mouth as it shakes through him with force. His legs turn to jelly almost immediately and Connor makes a heavenly gasp against him, thrusts shallow and erratic as Hank squeezes around him so tight. He shudders full-bodied when he comes too, and Hank moans with him through it.
His body relaxes in slow, heavy waves even as Connor keeps going - even with his hand off his dick, achingly hot pulses fire off in his belly. He basks in them with bliss, thinking he'll rest like this and take his fill of aftershocks, until he realizes it's building up big again. His heart lurches and he tries to sit himself up, Connor's lips pressing to the corner of his mouth, "Shit… Fuck, I'm— I might—"
"Again. Again." Connor whimpers low, fingers frantic as he gives his permission. Hank sounds almost surprised, pushing his hand between them to twist his fingers around his dick now that Connor isn't. The movement throws him over a messy edge, spent body going through another round of intense waves as the orgasm takes him. It's hotter than the first, gathered low and deep and he knows he makes desperate noises while it rushes through.
Connor is all over him, kissing and talking although the words don't all make it through. Hank can't feel the bed under him for the moment let alone hear anything but static. Connor's hands shy away slowly instead of all at once and he drops back against the bed, heaving like he's just gone miles in full sprint. Lips press against his strobing LED and then Connor's body leaves his, collapsing back against the bed as well. Their legs still brush and Connor's head hangs off the end of the bed, both of them with eyes closed and mouths open.
Their breathing takes up the next few minutes, the slight shifting of the sheets, the bump of the heavy music outside their room. Connor swears his body thumps in time with the beat.
Hank's the first to speak, drenched in sweat and almost everything else, "Fuck."
Connor huffs a laugh, rubbing his hand over his chest to calm his pump regulator, "I agree." Hank's hand finds his on the bedspread and he intertwines their fingers before pulling himself up. It's a languid slide up the bed to cup Hank's face and kiss his lips.
Hank looks at him with tired, adoring eyes when he pulls back. His knuckles draw up and down Connor's side, smiling while Connor takes his hair down from the ruined bun. "Happy anniversary, Con."
Connor smiles brightly and drops into the space along his husband's side, throwing his leg over Hank's. "Happy anniversary, baby… Thank you. You made it so special."
"You liked it all?" He curls an arm around him, burying his face into those curls. “You were a good actor.”
"It was incredibly satisfying. I like playing out fantasies like this." He kisses Hank's shoulder, "… How did you manage the LED movement?"
"Health monitor. It tracks my pulse." Hank grins, Connor gives an appreciative hum.
"It went faster for me."
"You usually do that to me." He kisses his android's hairline, "Did you buy cigarettes for your whole aesthetic?”
“I found some of your old ones. I needed another smell.” Connor preens into the affection, having Hank kiss his forehead too. “I enjoy the skin shimmer. It works on you, especially on your shoulders. I like it there the most.”
Hank chuckles, kissing his nose, “You changed so much. The scars, the tattoos, the hair…"
"I configured them myself. I thought you'd appreciate a well-traveled human to play with." Connor smiles, sounding proud of himself.
"I did. You're even sweating. How in the hell…?" He pointedly rubs away beads of sweat at Connor's temple.
Connor kisses his jaw, nuzzles against his beard, "Mm. I installed mesh under my skin that secretes. Only in some places… The leather?"
Hank snorts, patting over his thigh and the straps, "Bought 'em just for you. I really did want you to handle me roughly."
"And, and the— the self lubrication function?" Connor urges, sounding flustered that Hank went to such lengths for him.
Hank groans, "We're down a whole bottle of lube, honey. Had to do some fancy positioning for that one…" he sounds smug anyway, "Worth it."
"God, Hank." He buries his face in his human's shoulder and throws his arm over his belly, holding him close.
Hank gives him a squeeze, sighing at Connor's slick hips pressing against his thigh. "… You know I have to ask."
Connor perks up, wiggling excitedly, "Did you like the piercing? The new cock?"
"Yeah." He says, as if there was a possibility he wouldn't. "Fuck, you 'bout gave me a heart attack with both. And you cranking your fuckin' sensitivity levels to be a touched starved mess…" he blows out a deep breath, he'll be getting off to it again and again, he knows. “How did you get your dick pierced?”
"900 helped me with it." Connor praises and Hank chokes, blushing furiously. He pushes his nose and lips to Hank's blush, "He was very attentive… You wanted something pretty to play with, I wanted to provide you with details to act off of. You took care of everything else, it's the least I could do."
Hank rolls over and hugs himself to Connor's chest, delirious with how in love he is. He laughs and Connor guides him up into a kiss. "You were so good, Connor."
Connor smiles, flushing up pink too, "As you told me, many times." he kisses Hank's nose, "You were wonderful, my love."
Hank grins, fingers finding those grown out locks before Connor can change them back, "Thank you, Mr. Anderson."
The flustered gasp Connor gives has him laughing deep from his belly. They'll clean up in the big two-person shower in a bit, but Hank's content to kiss his husband for a while, between hiccups of laughter with satisfaction still ebbing through his body. Connor latches onto him, happy to do exactly the same.