Work Text:
Hank, after what feels like the longest day of his adult life full of back to back meetings and barely enough time to breathe, finishes his last business meeting for the day and goes to a nearby bar for a few drinks to unwind.
He didn’t plan on anything eventful happening.
Just wanted to have a beer or two and not think about work for an hour or so before he inevitably had to go home and crawl into bed and do this all again tomorrow.
He really didn't plan on this cute twink who keeps making eyes at him across the bar.
He ignores it, at first, doing his best to keep his eyes down on his phone where he was attempting, poorly, to watch highlights from the game he’d missed earlier. But lo and behold, every time he glances up and around the room that damn kid is looking at him again. He’s clearly only half paying attention to what his friends are saying, leaning against the opposite end of the bar and smiling at Hank in a way that has his stomach clenching in a pleasantly uncomfortable way he hasn’t felt in ages.
Then, before he even realized it was happening, the kid, Connor was his name, approaches him and starts up a conversation.
Seeing him this close Hank can’t help but notice that he looks young.
Like, almost uncomfortably so. But Hank is getting up there in age, so a lot of people are starting to look young to him. He’s also fairly drunk at this point, so he’s not sure if it’s just the dim lighting and his eyes playing tricks on him.
Even still, Hank asks for an ID before offering to buy him a drink.
A few more drinks and an hour long conversation later and they wind up at a hotel a few minutes down the road where Hank fucks Connor into the mattress for the better part of the night.
It’s easily one of the best nights Hank has had in a very long time and he’s not really sure where the hell he got the energy to keep up with Connor, but he’s sure as shit not complaining.
A few weeks pass, uneventfully, and Hank is only a little disappointed when he visits the same bar on two separate ocassions, but Connor is nowhere to be found.
He’s not surprised, really. They hadn’t exchanged numbers, and Connor had been gone before Hank had woken up the following morning, so he probably didn’t want much to do with Hank’s old ass in the daytime anyway. But he is still a little disappointed.
One night, just before leaving work when Hank is debating on heading to that bar one more time, he instead finds himself invited to a dinner with his boss. It’s nothing super formal, but he assumes it’s just another excuse to talk about work, so he’s not particularly excited about sitting down to a meal with the man. He goes anyway though, and it’s all fairly routine, heading into his house and getting a short tour, then sitting down to what seems to be a lovely home cooked meal, something Hank hasn’t honestly had in quite some time. They talk briefly before being interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing, causing his boss to smile and call for his son to come introduce himself and have dinner with them.
Naturally, Hank had heard about his boss’ kid in passing, mostly around the office when he’d talk about his home life, and Hank had half expected some… fresh faced high school student to waltz into the room where he would then be bombarded with boring stories about school and work and other nonsense he would pay just enough attention to so he won’t come across as rude.
When Connor, not just “his boss’ son, Connor” but the very same Connor that Hank had been balls deep inside of, walks in from the other room, Hank damn near faints.
The kid, to his credit, barely spares Hank a surprised blink before introducing himself politely and taking a seat right next to him, as though everything were perfectly normal.
Hank spends the next few minutes making uncomfortable small talk and trying not to let his gaze linger on Connor for longer than necessary, paranoid that a wayward stare at the wrong time will out him. As though somehow his boss would gain the ability to read minds and be able to see the ridiculously inappropriate events playing themselves out on a loop in his head.
When the conversation is interrupted by a phone ringing, his boss apologizes and pulls out his cell phone stepping out of the room to take a call. As soon as he’s out of the room and the sound of conversation can be overheard from down the hall, Hank quickly turns to Connor, looking furious.
“Please tell me this is some sick fucking joke!” He growls, keeping his volume down so as not to be overheard.
Connor sets down his cup and gives Hank a sideways glance, laughing a little. “Oh, yeah. Totally. I just paid him to pretend to be my father just to make some random guy I slept with once uncomfortable.”
Hank hangs his head and lets out a soft groan, scrubbing a hand down his face before leaning a little closer. “H-how fucking old are you? Really?” He whispers, somewhat terrified at what the answer may be.
Connor just rolls his eyes and keeps eating like nothings wrong. "Relax. I'm 19. I'm not a minor, so don’t have a heart attack."
Hank just stares in shock. "Nine... nineteen?" he shakes his head then leans in closer. "Do you have any idea how old I am?" He hisses.
Connor laughs a little and stabs a piece of broccoli with his fork. "You're in your 40s. You're not a decrepit old man yet."
Hank pushes both hands through his hair and lets out a distressed noise. He leans back in his chair and looks down the hall at his boss, Connors dad, still busy on the phone before returning his attention to Connor. "Your ID said you were in your late 20s."
Connor does grin at that, propping his chin on his hand and raising his eyebrows. "You know, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, because it was dark most of the time... and the rest of the time I wasn't exactly face up--"
"Shh!!"
"BUT, for someone in your profession Mr. Anderson, you certainly are dense."
Connor then leans in closer and bats his eyelashes at Hank, and it’s only then that Hank realizes that his eyes are brown, whereas the eyes of the individual in the ID were blue.
When the look of realization dawns on Hank, Connor smiles and leans back in his seat again, tilting his head. "You know we've been told our family resemblance is striking. Pretty useful for certain occasions." He leans towards Hank a bit more, wrinkling his nose. "It was my big brothers ID, in case you didn’t catch that."
"Yeah... yeah I got it."
Connors dad comes back to the table after another minute or two of awkward tension, and Hank has to sit there and act normal while Connor, the damn brat, has the audacity to reach over and put a hand on his thigh under the table. Hank brushes it off as subtly as he can, only to have Connor laugh softly and turn the conversation back to his father.
Once the meal is over, Hank says his goodbyes and shakes Connors hand, noticing immediately that a paper has been placed in his palm. He unfolds it on the way to his car and, unsurprisingly, scrawled quickly on the little scrap of paper is Connors phone number, and Hank rolls his eyes and shoves it in his pocket without putting it in his phone.
Another few weeks pass by and Hank tries to put the Connor thing behind him, forgetting all about the phone number and trying to act as normal as possible around Connors dad around the office. He almost succeeds, until of course he’s sitting at work one night, pouring over some paperwork and he gets a text.
'I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to stealing your number from my father's phone.'
Hank stares at the screen for a second before realizing who the text is from, and the realization makes him sigh and drop his phone on the desk, determined to ignore it.
Several minutes pass before his phone buzzes loudly as another text comes in.
Connor: Mm. I dont appreciate being ignored Mr. Anderson.
Hank sighs and swipes the message away, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance.
Connor: Have I done something to upset or offend you?
Hank groans and grabs the phone, typing angrily.
Hank: Lying to me about your age was a start.
He drops his phone again and sighs as a response comes in almost immediately.
Connor: hmmm. Would it help if I apologize?
Hank: No.
Connor: well, then it seems we've got a problem.
Hank is looking at his phone about to reply when there’s a knock on his office door and he sighs heavily before standing and going to answer it.
Connor smiles up at him coyly, leaning against the doorframe as Hank opens it, phone held up in one hand and a bottle of what looks like wine down by his side in the other.
He lets himself in, setting the bottle down on Hanks desk. He turns back towards Hank, phone still in hand and types something quickly before pocketing it and looking at Hank again.
"Oh, don’t worry about me. I'll go. I'm sure you’re... " he glances at the paperwork on Hanks desk and shrugs. "very busy, so I wont keep you."
Hank blinks and puts his hands on his hips, trying his damndest not to stare at Connors legs. what kind of fucking adult wears shorts that short?? "Its late. Do you need a ride home?" He makes himself ask, because a part of his brain is telling him to be civil, and that Connors dad would probably not like him being out this late.
Then again he had been out until all hours of the night that one night.
He watches Connors lips spread into a smirk before the boy makes his way back across the room. He stops just in front of Hank and reaches out, adjusting Hanks tie slowly. "A ride home ? No~. It’s clear you don’t want me here right now, so I wont bother you any longer. I'll have Niles come get me, so you don’t have to worry." He lets his hands linger on Hanks chest and Hank doesn't miss the way he licks his lips before making eye contact again. "Just... consider the wine a peace offering. I'll be on my way." He starts for the door but pauses, putting a hand on the door frame and looking back at Hank like he almost forgot something. "Oh, and, um... check your email. Once you get home. Aaand... " he taps his fingers on the door frame. "If you get bored, or, you know, if you're up? My bedtime’s not until very, very late. So feel free to call me." He shoots Hank a wink and saunters off, humming softly to himself as Hank drops his weight into his chair again with a groan.
Later, when Hank is sitting on his couch at home, having finished half the bottle of wine that Connor gave him, he remembers to check his email.
He checks his work email and finds nothing, and almost closes his laptop before thinking to check his personal one. he didnt think Connor had that one, but the kid got his phone number, so its not outside the realm of possibility.
Sure enough, there’s a new email in his inbox, simply titled "Mr. Anderson." and Hank holds his breath as he opens it. The attached file takes a minute to download, and Hank finishes another glass of wine while he waits, partially dreading seeing whatever Connor sent him. When the file finally opens Hank glances at the video that starts playing and starts coughing as he swallows some wine too quickly making it go down wrong.
The video currently playing on his computer screen is obscene and loud and.... really fucking sexy.
Hank sits there with a hand covering his mouth, leaning forward on his elbows while he watches the video play out.
There’s no preamble, no pointless time wasting with introductions or setting things up, the video just opens up with a damn whimpering noise that goes straight to Hanks dick without his permission.
It’s dimly lit, but Connor is clearly visible as he sits up a bit on his knees, adjusting what appears to be a bunched up pillow between his thighs and reaching next to him for a little remote.
He clicks a button a few times, the little light on the remote glowing blue with each press, before his mouth falls open in a shaky exhale and he leans back a little, setting the remote down and grinding his hips back against whatever is situated inside him.
Hank tosses back a bit more wine before setting his glass down and reaching for the laptop. He hovers the cursor over the X in the upper corner, fully intending to... stop.... watching as Connor let's out needy little noises and leans forward a little, grinding his cock against the pillow under him.
He’s about to close the video really when he swears he hears his name, spoken on a gasp.
Sure he’s hearing things, Hank takes the video back a couple of seconds, and sure enough, there it is.
A soft, faint "Hank..." gasped into Connors palm while he rolls his hips particularly slowly.
Hank can't fucking breathe. And his pants are getting very uncomfortable.
Connor leans over a little and grabs the camera, moving it closer as he lifts his hips again, showing off the thin, shiny string of slick that stretches from the head of his cock to the pillow under him before grinding his hips down into the wet patch there.
"Fuck..." Connor breathes, and Hank has to undo his pants. "You see this?" Hanks heart leaps into his throat as Connor starts talking, still rolling his hips slowly. "This is what happens when I think about you." A shuddering sigh. "Have you thought about me, Hank? … God I can't stop thinking about you. That big, thick cock of yours filling me up..." his thighs visibly shudder slightly as he undoubtedly clenches around the toy inside of him. " So good .."
Hank sits back on the couch and palms himself through his underwear, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from groaning.
Connor lets out another whimper and Hank has to pull his cock out, gripping it in his hand and stroking it a couple of times.
He tries to force himself not to think about how wrong this is, jerking off to a dirty video sent to him by his boss’ kid.
Connor keeps doing what he's doing, rutting against that damn pillow between his thighs while whatever toy he's got buried in his ass buzzes away, making him jolt and whimper every so often, probably due to whatever setting he has it on.
Before hes realized it, Hank has been steadily stroking himself for the better part of 20 minutes, hypnotized by what Connor's doing on the screen in front of him.
When Connor seems to pick up his pace a little bit, his breathing becoming more urgent, Hank quickens his own hand.
" Fuck ..." Connor breathes, picking up his little remote again, still rolling his hips while he rests his hands on his thighs and sits up a little more. "God, I wanna cum… do you want me to cum for you, Hank?" His thighs tremble again and he gasps a little. "I wish you were inside of me right now. I don't think I've ever cum as hard as I did that night…" Hank watches his back arch a little as he leans back on the toy inside of him, biting his bottom lip with a broken little whine. His hips still for a second before his body tenses up, and Hanks own hand stills on his cock while he watches Connors fists clench and unclench on his thighs, his cheeks puffing out slightly as he shudders out a deep breath, clearly having stopped himself from nearly cumming.
"I'm not going to cum yet." Connor sighs when he regains control of his breathing.
Hank realizes his own fist has been clenching his pant leg so tightly his knuckles are white, and he lets go and flexes his fingers while keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him.
Connor takes another deep breath and smiles at the camera. "Here's what is going to happen, Mr. Anderson." He sighs, pushing sweaty hair out of his face. "I'm going to get dressed and pay you a visit, since I’m sure you’re still at the office right now. You're being stubborn, so I doubt you'll want to see me, but that's fine. I got you a present as an apology." He smirks, dropping his remote at his side again and lifting a hand to play with his nipples, grinding his hips downwards once and shuddering. "I'll send you this video before I leave, and I hope you watch it. I want you to think about this. Remember me standing right in front of you after having recorded this, thinking about you. I might even still be hard…. But I'll leave, like a good boy, then I'm gonna come back home and keep going, until you call me."
Hank watches as the video ends, letting out a long sigh. He doesn't remember grabbing his phone, but before he realizes it he's holding the thing with Connors contact pulled up.
He lets his thumb hover over the call button, groaning softly after a second and dropping the phone next to him to run both hands over his face.
He doesn't want to call him.
He doesn't.
Fuck he really does.
His cock is throbbing, and all he can think about is how good Connor felt under him, how he sounded moaning Hanks name.
How many times has Connor edged himself by now, if what he said in the video is true? Would he beg, if Hank called him now?
He wants to find out.
He looks down at his phone again, tapping his fingers on his thighs before reaching for the thing and taking a deep breath as he hits the call button.
The phone only rings twice when he puts it to his ear before Connor picks up, a soft laugh in his voice as he answers.
“Hello Hank.” He sighs into the receiver, clearly breathless. “Took you long enough.”
Hank can’t help the chuckle that comes out of him as he palms himself, listening to the faint, barely there sound of buzzing in the background on Connor’s end. “Don’t give me that attitude.” He chastises, getting himself comfortable on the sofa. “I can still hang up.”
There’s a soft gasp that twists up Hank’s gut all kinds of ways before Connor lets out a soft noise. It’s almost a moan, almost a whimper and Hank has to let go of his dick to stop himself from cumming right there as Connor breathes out a soft “I’m sorry. Please don’t.”
It’s a quiet plea, but it makes Hank smile as he takes a deep breath to steady himself then continues the slow stroking of his cock. “That’s better.” He mutters, grinning even wider when there’s another whimper from Connor.
“God… your voice…” There’s another gasp, and Hank can only guess Connor has had to stop himself from cumming again. After a second of quiet breathing there’s a laugh. “You’ve either been drinking the wine I gave you, or touching yourself, Hank… Don’t try to deny it... Your voice gets that same… husky tone when you’re either drunk or turned on…”
Hank smirks, shifting a little to push his pants down a bit more. “Well don’t you just know everything.”
“Mm. Hardly… but I do know your voice.”
“That right?”
“Mhmm.” There’s a shuddering exhale, followed by a shuffling of fabric and Hank glances over at his computer, the image of Connor straddling that pillow paused on the screen. Without letting himself think about it too much he reaches over and mutes the thing then presses play on the video again, the sight of what Connor is doing in the video, coupled with the soft noises now being pumped directly into his ear through the phone enough to have him steadily leaking precum all over his hand as he strokes himself.
“Tell me how.” He instructs, barely stopping himself from groaning as he passes his thumb over the tip of his cock.
“I…” another sharp inhale. “I’ve had it stuck in my head for weeks… the sound of you… breathing in my ear.” Connors breathing speeds up a little. “Telling me how tight I was... How well I took that big cock of yours… fuck, Hank, I wanna cum.”
“Not yet, baby.” Hank has no idea where that came from, but he’s too far gone to care.
There’s another gasp from Connor, followed by a more drawn out whimper and some shuffling. He breathes heavily for a few moments, each exhale punctuated by a needy noise as he tries to calm himself down.
Hank gives him bit, watching his laptop screen as Connor tries to compose himself, matching the stroking of his own cock to the rhythm in which Connor’s cock pushes into the fabric of the pillow between his legs in the video.
“How many times have you edged yourself now?” He asks after a minute, licking his lips.
“I...I lost count.”
Hank huffs out a soft laugh. “Are you still humping that pillow?”
“Mhm.”
“Good boy.” Hank doesn’t miss the soft gasp that pulls from Connor, and he has to stop himself from laughing a little as he continues stroking himself, smearing precum all down his length. “Bet it reminds you of me, huh? Riding me while that pretty cock of yours rubs against my stomach.” Connor breathes out a barely audible ‘yes’ and Hank lets himself let out a soft moan that earns another whimper from Connor.
There’s a bit more shifting on Connors end, Hank guessing he probably sat up again to continue the eager movement of those hips. “ Fuck, I was so close when you called… you have no idea how many times I’ve done this while thinking about you these past few weeks…”
“Done what, Connor? Be specific.”
There’s a clearly annoyed groan from Connor that almost makes Hank laugh before the boy speaks again. “Fuck myself. Just like this… a toy in my ass. Something between my legs to simulate that big belly of yours, a pillow, blanket, towel. Whatever works at the time… God, Hank, it’s so wet. Between the lube and all this…” There’s some more shuffling before Hanks phone buzzes and he glances at it long enough to see the photo that had come through from Connor, finger hovered over the tip of his flushed cock, a shiny string of slick connecting the two. There’s an obvious wet spot on the pillow case under him, and Hank groans a little looking at it. “It feels so good…” Connor breathes when he puts the phone back to his ear, the two of them moaning in unison.
Hank bites back another groan as he shifts his legs open a bit more, his hips stuttering up to meet the movements of his hand. “You wanna cum for me, baby?”
“Yes, daddy.”
Hank pointedly ignores the small part of his brain that immediately wants to be weirded out by the name, way too turned on to let it ruin anything as he picks up his pace a little. “Turn up that toy for me.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before Connor exhales shakily. “I… I won’t be able to hold it if I do that… I’ll cum if I turn it up anymore.”
“You’ll cum when I tell you. Now turn it up, baby.”
Connor whimpers softly, shifting a little before a faint clicking can be heard, immediately followed by heavier breathing. “Oh, fuck . Hank. Oh, God. I… I’m gonna…”
“Not yet Connor.” Hanks stopped watching the video on his laptop, now laying with his eyes closed, phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder as one hand strokes himself and the other massages his balls. “Baby…” Another whine from Connor. “Imma count back from ten. When I get to one I want you to cum for me, Kay?”
The buzzing noise is clearly audible through Connors end now, as is the steady brush of skin on fabric, like he can’t stop the thrusting of his hips against that pillow and Hank gets the distinct feeling he’s been put on speaker so that Connor could brace both hands on the pillow.
There’s only a soft ‘mhm’ from Connor before Hank starts his countdown, counting backwards from ten between his own labored breathing and Connors increasingly desperate moans. By the time he gets to five, Connor is chanting soft ‘please’s and ‘yes’s, along with the occasional ‘daddy’, a senseless jumble of pleas and praise that only serves to egg on Hanks own budding orgasm.
By the time he reaches One, he barely gets the words “Cum for me, baby.” Out before Connor is gasping and moaning in such a pornographic way that Hanks own climax punches out of him in a hurry, his own moans and curses only seeming to cause Connor’s to increase.
The two lay there afterwards, the silence only punctuated by their heavy breathing. When there’s a sniffle from Connors end Hank blinks, pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes and sitting up a little, concern twisting in his chest.
“Are you ok?” He asks softly.
There’s a shuddering breath from Connor before a soft laugh, followed by his voice coming through the receiver a bit louder as he takes it off speakerphone. “Yeah.. I’m fine… just… tired, and sweaty, and sticky…”
Hank bites his lip, absently looking around for something to wipe his cum coated hand down with. He spots an old takeout napkin under the corner of his coffee table and picks that up, wiping himself down with a sigh. “Well.” He mumbles before he has a chance to stop himself. “If you’re up for it… I can’t come to your place, obviously, but… if, if you wanna come over here I’ve got a pretty decent sized tub, and snacks, and a really comfy bed, if I do say so myself… so...”
There’s quiet for a second on Connors end before he laughs, the sound bright and cheerful. “Are you asking me to come over so we can attempt the whole… post coitus aftercare thing? Cuddling and all that?”
Hank feels himself flush, his defensive attitude immediately taking over and wanting to tell the brat never mind when Connor just laughs again. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Hank blinks a few times, caught off guard for a second, before gripping the edge of the couch cushion under him. “Connor.” He calls out before he has a chance to hang up, the boy letting out a soft “Mm?” In response.
“Keep the toy in.” He instructs.
Connor laughs again, this time more of the teasing laugh Hank was quickly becoming accustomed to and whispers a quiet “Yes sir.” Before hanging up the phone, leaving Hank blinking and looking around his living room.
Shit.
He really needed to tidy up.